Page 23

Lilith felt like such a responsible adult.

Not only had she decided to have just a few drinks this weekend, but she'd also chosen the activity wisely—Gabrielle by her side. The blonde girl had been drowning in flashcards and highlighters all week, her lashes fluttering with exhaustion as she held onto her Aperol Spritz like it was oxygen.

She deserved this.

And anyone who dared to disagree probably hated her.

Lilith's head rested on Gabrielle's shoulder, a little too comfortable, her blonde hair brushing the collar of Gabrielle's jacket.

Olivia's fingers trailed across Lilith's bare thighs—more of a playful pinch than a caress, which earned a soft giggle from her lips.

She was in the middle of arguing about a recent political scandal—something about EU reform, she didn't even remember what sparked it—with a few of Daniel's guy friends.

Putting Lilith near alcohol and politics was always a disaster waiting to happen, especially with Gabrielle by her side.

Gabrielle and Daniel flanked her like loyal soldiers, jumping into the debate with such passionate conviction that their voices rose above the mellow music playing in the background.

Lilith had a long-standing habit of rolling her eyes the second anyone claimed they weren't interested in politics—or worse, admitted they didn't vote.

People at the nearby tables were glancing over—forks paused midair, eyebrows raised—as if trying to decipher what kind of chaos this group of young, drunk intellectuals could possibly be brewing.

And then, like a divine interruption, their second round of drinks arrived.

"Maybe you shouldn't drink that much after last time," Daniel teased, reaching for a shot with a grin that said he absolutely intended to be worse than her. His dark hair—almost black—curled slightly at the ends, looking just a little too much like Olivia's.

Lilith rolled her eyes, dramatic and fond all at once. She tucked her legs beneath her, folding them on the booth seat and resting her chin on her knees.

Olivia's hand slipped off her thigh in protest, and Lilith casually reached for a single, soggy french fry, chewing it thoughtfully.

"I've got my hero with me," she murmured, nuzzling into Gabrielle and throwing her a wink.

Gabrielle slapped her leg gently, an eye-roll of her own in place. "And I've got a bottle of wine from your CEO lady as an apology," she muttered, almost too casually.

Lilith blinked, surprised, a smile pulling at her lips before she could stop it. She hadn't had the chance to visit Valentina. Or even text her. She had wanted to—but somehow, the week escaped her, and yet... Valentina had already handled it.

Of course she did.

"What CEO lady?" Olivia's voice came from below, a lazy mumble as she curled against Lilith's chest like a cat seeking warmth. Her eyes were half-closed, body pliant under the influence of whatever new pills she and Daniel had gotten their hands on.

"No one," Lilith whispered, letting Olivia lie there—on her breasts, pressed to her ribs—if only to keep her quiet.

"How was she?" Lilith turned slightly, her voice soft as she looked up at Gabrielle.

Gabrielle laughed, tipping her head back just a little, the sound cutting through the low hum of the restaurant. Her arm pressed warmly against Lilith's as she leaned in again, whispering like they were trading secrets.

"That little note was so formal."

Lilith furrowed her brows, distracted. Her eyes flicked past Gabrielle towards Daniel and his friends, all hunched in chaotic conversation, throwing around names and opinions like they were tossing darts. The warmth curled softly in her stomach, but her voice dropped into a hush.

"Note?"

"Yeah." Gabrielle smirked, brushing a loose blonde strand from Lilith's cheek without thinking. "I should choke you for giving her my address—but you'd like it."

Lilith turned slowly, her whole face contorted into confusion, like she had just missed the setup to a joke.

"I didn't give her your address," she said, eyebrows pulling together. "I didn't even have time to talk to her about it."

Gabrielle just shrugged, unbothered, sipping her drink with that same effortless confidence that always made Lilith feel like she was catching up to something already in motion.

"Are you sure it was her?"

"Yes," Gabrielle said, snorting. "She signed it with her full fucking name."

Lilith blinked.

Gabrielle wasn't exaggerating. The note had arrived folded with clean precision, tucked into the neck of a bottle. The handwriting was neat and impersonal.

Something along the lines of—My words were unnecessary. I apologize.

That was it.

Gabrielle took a sip of her whiskey, swirling the glass lazily as her eyes flicked back to Lilith.

"You got yourself a stalker," she teased, lips curling at the edges as Lilith stayed silent—wondering, not for the first time, how Valentina had known the exact door to knock on that evening at her apartment... and now, how she had found Gabrielle's address too.

Lilith's thoughts were already starting to drift, floating somewhere between Gabrielle's last words and the muted noise of the restaurant around them—until she felt Olivia's head moving against her chest.

Or more like her face burying into Lilith's breasts.

"They're so nice," Olivia mumbled, half-asleep, the words sticky with wine and laziness.

Lilith blushed, warmth rushing up her cheeks, but before she could say anything, Olivia sat up abruptly. Her hand slipped down the neckline of Lilith's top with far too much ease and tugged out the slim shape of a vape nestled between the lace and skin.

"Bathroom?" Olivia asked, holding the vape like it was evidence.

Lilith only sighed, grabbed another french fry between her fingers, and stood. Gabrielle was too busy now, already in a heated argument with two of Daniel's friends about something philosophical and stupid, again.

The bathroom was cooler, a little too white and sterile for the warmth of the night. The mirror lights buzzed faintly, catching the edge of Lilith's makeup as she leaned in to fix the shape of her brown lipliner.

Behind her, Olivia talked to no one in particular—her voice low, slurred, and sweet, like syrup poured too slow.

Lilith saw the movement in the reflection before she heard it. Olivia's fingers dipping into her purse, pulling out a small, familiar pill.

Xanax.

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, the unspoken question clear.

"Nope," Lilith said, shaking her head.

"And you shouldn't take it either," she added, looking Olivia in the eye.

Olivia rolled her eyes, not dramatically—just the kind of soft, slow motion that meant she didn't really mean it. She slipped the pill back into her bag without protest.

Because why would she go against whatever the blonde-haired angel was telling her?

?

Period was truly one of Lilith's greatest enemies.

It never went easy on her. After arriving two weeks late, it returned with a vengeance. The first two days were always the worst: Lilith throwing up, fainting, curled into herself with cramps that made her feel like she was being punished for something she didn't remember doing.

She was convinced the universe had invented menstruation because it knew women, without it, would be far too powerful. It had to balance things out somehow—and suffering seemed like the chosen method.

Sometimes it wasn't that bad.

Like today.

The cramps were still there, dull and aching in her lower belly, but at least she wasn't sprawled out on her bathroom floor whispering death wishes into the tile. She could move. Breathe. Stand without the room spinning.

And today, she had a free day from university, which felt like a blessing carefully placed into her week.

It also meant she finally had the time to show up at Valentina's office. The empty fridge had been haunting her all morning—she missed the meals from the catering like a spoiled pet missing its luxuries.

She hadn't bothered with makeup, not even a swipe of mascara.

Her skin was bare and flushed, with a few pimple patches carefully covering the worst spots of an awful breakout.

She wore sweatpants that were far too long and baggy, dragging along the pavement as she walked, and an oversized hoodie that nearly swallowed her whole.

The woman at the bakery greeted her with the usual soft smile and gentle hands. With quiet care, she wrapped up the desserts, treating them like something precious.

Lilith truly hoped Valentina liked tiramisu.

And if she didn't, Lilith was willing to sacrifice her raspberry cheesecake—with a quiet, theatrical sob, of course.

The blonde girl stepped into Valentina's office, barely surviving the judging glance of a woman she passed in the elevator. A few days had gone by since she last saw Valentina—and somehow, Lilith had almost forgotten how breathtaking the woman was.

Almost.

But there she sat, in that chair behind the desk, in a long, dark red dress that hugged her form with near-malicious precision. The open back was hidden, tragically, by her rich brunette hair that fell down in waves.

Lilith wanted to faint—and for once, it wasn't just because of the cramps.

Valentina's gaze followed her with quiet intensity as Lilith entered and placed the neatly packed desserts on the desk. Her body ached, the cramps arriving again with wicked timing, making her wince and nearly fold in half. She made her way to the couch and flopped onto it with a soft thud.

"I assumed you would listen to my instructions better," Valentina's voice echoed softly through the space.

"What instructions?" Lilith murmured, furrowing her brows.

"I told you to take care of yourself," Valentina replied, her face unreadable.

"It's not my fault period exists," Lilith pouted, slumping further into the cushions. "Like... give me a break."

Valentina gave her a small nod, a silent exhale of relief that the girl wasn't in pain because of something more concerning.

"Are you taking vitamins?" she asked, reaching for her purse—a beautiful, expensive-looking thing.

Lilith nodded proudly, a little smile tugging at her lips. "I am... I mean—" she paused, "I missed Saturday, but I am."

"Good." Valentina's approval came in a quiet tone, and then she held out a small strip of painkillers, lifting them slightly as if to ask without speaking.

Lilith looked over from the couch, eyes widening, and immediately shot up. "Yes, please."

She stepped closer, brushing her fingers softly against Valentina's as she took the blister pack. She quickly popped two pills out, but as she reached for a third, Valentina's voice stopped her—gentle but firm—as she placed a water bottle in front of her.

"Two are enough."

Lilith nodded, swallowing them with a few careful sips of water.

Little Lilith would have been so proud.

She used to find swallowing pills nearly impossible—a strange, comical kind of torture. But after starting antidepressants as a teenager, and needing higher doses over time, it had become part of her routine. Just one more thing she could do now.

"I think it would've been better if you stayed at home. In bed," Valentina said softly.

Lilith shifted into the chair across from Valentina's desk. "So... you don't want me here?" she asked, already knowing what the woman meant.

"I didn't say that, Lilith," Valentina replied, one eyebrow rising with subtle emphasis.

"If I didn't come, you wouldn't have your tiramisu," Lilith mumbled under her breath as she opened the carefully packed desserts, pulling out the little plastic forks that came with them and setting the tiramisu in front of Valentina.

"Tiramisu?" Valentina echoed, her eyes falling on the dessert.

"I hope you like it?" Lilith asked, her voice gentle, wide eyes looking up at Valentina like she was praying for the right answer.

Any human faced with a girl like that would've said yes without thinking, even if they hated the damn thing. And maybe even eaten it just to make her smile.

"I do," Valentina answered, finally. "Anything with coffee or caramel is good."

Lilith grinned to herself as she picked up her piece of raspberry cheesecake, the response almost too perfect. Of course Valentina liked coffee. Of course she liked caramel.

"Thank you for the food. And the vitamins," Lilith added, tucking her legs up to her chest in that familiar way she always did, arms wrapping loosely around them. "I'm scared you'll actually want my kidney later though..." she whispered, voice playful and low. "Maybe that's how you make money."

Valentina smiled—gently this time—as she opened her drawer to take out a white napkin, laying it neatly beside the dessert box. She picked up the fork with care, almost ceremony.

"Is your opinion of me that low?" she asked, brow arching again with amusement.

"Nope... it's actually better than you might think," Lilith said, her tone soft but teasing, a little wink sent in Valentina's direction. "I fear I can't beat that though."

"Why would you?" Valentina replied, calm and composed, her eyes still fixed on the tiramisu. "No one expects you to beat it. And you shouldn't expect it from yourself either."

She paused, her voice softening just a touch more.

"In my opinion, you've just beaten it."

Lilith smiled.

A smile that stretched all the way to her eyes, making them shine quietly. Because of course a piece of tiramisu couldn't compare to what Valentina had done for her.

But the reassurance in Valentina's words wrapped around her like a soft blanket.

"I heard you came across Amber last week," Valentina hummed, her voice low, almost casual.

Lilith nodded, nervously. "I probably scared her with my psychology talk."

"The opposite," Valentina replied simply.

Lilith beamed at that, pride lighting up her tired features. "Did I seem smart?" she asked with a teasing lift in her tone. "I should give lectures."

"I'll patiently wait for one," Valentina said.

There was no sarcasm in her voice—none of the usual sharpness or humor Lilith might've expected. It was calm. Serious. It made Lilith blink once, briefly doubting her sarcasm radar.

She tilted her head. "Should I expand the topic to include mean women with power complexes?"

Valentina leaned in just slightly, the corners of her mouth unmoved. "Why would you? Do you know one?"

"Yeah... she's cruel," Lilith pouted softly, resting her cheek on the arm she had wrapped around her knees.

"I need to have a talk with her, then."

"Yes," Lilith said, nodding eagerly, the mischief blooming again behind her lashes. "Scold her. Pretty please."

"I'm quite offended that I wasn't the one listening to your thoughts on Games People Play," Valentina said as she finished the last bite of tiramisu, wiping her hands on the white napkin with elegant precision.

For Lilith, hearing those words was something close to a wet dream. It wasn't even about the book—it was that Valentina wanted to hear her talk. About something that mattered to her.

"Really?" she asked, voice unintentionally heavier, more serious than she meant it to be.

Valentina looked up, her tone soft as she traced the napkin's folds with long fingers adorned with delicate, golden rings. "It was pretty sexist, wasn't it?"

Lilith nodded. "Some parts, yeah." She was about to launch into a full-fledged rant, already recalling her tangent with Amber, but Valentina's phone rang.

"I'm sorry," Valentina murmured, picking it up gently.

And just like that, disappointment crashed over Lilith like a slow, bitter wave. It wasn't dramatic—just a phone call—but anything that interrupted their conversations felt like a personal offense. It tugged at something deep in her chest. Something tender and ridiculous.

She told herself it was the hormones. Blamed it on the cramps, on the exhaustion.

But when Valentina softly muttered "Work," Lilith felt a spark of irrational rage towards whoever was on the other end.

Not the kind of rage where she'd actually hurt someone—no, she'd rather slit her own wrists in front of them, traumatize them into silence.

That would teach them to disturb her and Valentina.

She nodded, forcing her limbs to prepare for goodbye. But her curiosity got the better of her. "What is it?"

Valentina flipped through a few papers on her desk, holding them up for Lilith to see.

"You're opening a theatre?" Lilith blinked.

Valentina nodded like it was nothing more than an inconvenient task. "I need to make a schedule for Saturday."

"I can help." Lilith shot up without hesitation.

She hadn't even processed the words before they were out—but they were real, and they meant something. She would've done anything to stay longer. And that concerned her—because it made her feel something she absolutely despised.

"Are you sure?" Valentina asked, watching the blonde with careful eyes, noticing the eagerness in her face.

Lilith nodded without pause.

Valentina stood from her chair and walked towards her, her voice low and firm. "Stand up."

Lilith obeyed, confused but intrigued. Valentina took the chair Lilith had been sitting in and moved it beside her own, on the other side of the desk.

"Sit," she instructed gently.

Valentina pulled out an iPad, handed her her an Apple Pencil, and opened a blank note page.

Then she placed two sheets of paper in front of her.

One was filled with Valentina's neat cursive handwriting and the other was cold in comparison, printed and formal, clearly an email someone else had written—full of bolded names, time blocks, and dry formatting.

"Here's the plans. Rewrite them for me," Valentina started, giving clear instructions. "Here are the hours," she added, pointing at the paper with her handwriting on it.

Lilith started doing what the woman told her to. And she actually enjoyed it.

She loved making notes, schedules—anything like that. It gave her a strange sense of control. She carefully chose the highlighter color and thickness. Her handwriting, usually fast and messy, softened as she tried to be as neat as possible, especially knowing Valentina would see it.

For a moment, she paused, glancing up.

Valentina was typing something on her laptop, eyes focused, jaw resting gently on one hand.

Her posture was graceful even in stillness.

The room was quiet, but not awkwardly so.

It was a warm silence, humming with the softness of shared presence.

Evening was settling in outside and Lilith thought—she could spend her evenings like this more often.

"Don't you have an assistant for that?" she asked softly, still writing.

"Those plans are more... personal," Valentina answered. And Lilith understood—there were a bunch of names scribbled across the page, and keeping them private seemed reasonable.

"I feel honoured," Lilith said, tilting her head, barely looking up as she continued working.

And Valentina couldn't help the small smile pulling at her lips as she looked over the schedule later, noticing the little "good luck :)" written at the bottom of the page, adorned with a few pink little hearts.