❤️🔥His Hot introvert❤️🔥
🏵️(The bet)🏵️
🪻WRITTEN BY CRYSTAL.O.ORI🪻
❌ DO NOT COPY OR REPOST❌
(Episode 20&21)
VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW
As the sun began its descent into the horizon, the light transformed into glistening streaks of soft orange, gracefully painting the sky above our estate with vibrant shades of gold and rose. It was a beautiful sight, but in stark contrast, the silence enveloping my room felt almost suffocating too calm and too still after everything I had gone through just the night before.
Seated cross-legged on my bed, I had my phone resting in my lap. Every so often, the screen would flicker to life, illuminating the room with notifications from the school’s blog. Everyone seemed to still be buzzing about Dylan’s infamous party, and the online chatter was incessant, overflowing with videos, pictures, and an array of gossip threads.
However, there was one video clip in particular that made my stomach churn and left me feeling uneasy; it was the moment when Dylan had carried me out of the party. Someone had captured it on camera, and the caption read, “Dylan carried a girl upstairs………who is she?”With a groan of frustration, I tossed my phone to the side.
“Fantastic,” I muttered quietly to myself,
“just what I needed…….more unwanted fame.” I said sacarsiticaly and brushed my fingers through my hair, trying to remain composed despite the turmoil brewing inside me.
Thankfully, Dylan had been facing away from the camera, which meant my face was obscured in the shot…..it was all a blurry mess. But even so, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be long before they figured out who I was.
Just then, a soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
“Violet, may I come in?” It was Aunt Quinn’s voice.
“Yeah, sure,” I replied quickly, doing my best to sound casual. She entered the room with her characteristic poise, carrying a warm cup of chamomile tea in one hand, her reading glasses perched delicately on her nose. Her keen eyes immediately swept over me, sharp and perceptive, as though she could decipher every unspoken emotion I was trying so hard to conceal.
“You’ve been unusually quiet since you came back,” she observed, setting the cup down on my nightstand.
“And I don’t even need to ask why.” I lowered my gaze, fiddling nervously with the edge of my blanket, acutely aware of how well she knew me.
“I’m fine, Aunt Quinn. Honestly,” I insisted, trying to project sincerity, though my voice wavered slightly.
“Hmm,” she replied, a sound that conveyed her skepticism.
“That’s exactly what your mother would say when she was anything but fine,” she remarked, and I couldn’t help but smile faintly at the memory.
“You miss her, don’t you?” I ventured, and she chuckled softly. There was a unique bond between my mom and Aunt Quinn that I deeply admired……how close they were as sisters. The tension in the room softened just a bit as her gaze became less stern.
“Well, of course, I do. But at this moment, I’m far more concerned about you,” she said, pausing to appraise my expression for any signs of what was really troubling me.
“That boy Dylan…..could he be the reason you fainted?, Did he……..” she asked, her brow arching in curiosity. My head snapped up at her question, panic surging through me.
“No! No, it’s not like that at all. I think you might be misunderstanding me,” I stammered, and she exhaled a resigned sigh. I realized I needed to provide her with at least a brief explanation of what had transpired that night.
“Then what exactly is it like?” she pressed, her eyebrow raised. I hesitated, caught in the web of my own thoughts. How could I find the right words to tell her the whole truth? That my drink had been spiked? That my best friend might have been involved? No, I couldn’t burden her with that just yet.
“I just felt a bit dizzy, that’s all,” I lied, forcing a smile onto my face. The quiet disappointment in her sigh revealed a sadness simmering beneath the surface that I couldn’t quite name.
“Violet, you remind me a little too much of your mother sometimes. Always trying to shoulder everything by yourself,” Aunt Quinn said with a heavy sigh.
“I only wanted to check in on you, dear. I’ll be in my room if you need me,” she added before turning to leave. Yet her words hung in the air long after she had stepped out of my room, permeating the atmosphere between us.
QUINN’S POINT OF VIEW
After gently closing the door behind her, I leaned against it and released a deep breath, feeling a weight settle heavily on my chest. There was something in Violet’s eyes, a flicker of fear intertwined with confusion, signaling that she wasn’t being entirely truthful with me.
Instinct urged me to press her for more details, but I knew Violet well enough to understand that pushing her too hard would only lead her to retreat further into her shell. Despite my attempts to remain calm, a motherly instinct…….one that I felt strongly despite not being her actual mother,whispered that something was amiss.
With a determined stride, I crossed the hallway into my own room. Once inside, I opened my drawer and retrieved my phone, my thumb hovering hesitantly over Diana’s contact. After a prolonged moment of hesitation, I sighed and set the phone back down on the table.
“Not yet,” I murmured under my breath to no one in particular.
“Let her tell her own story.” But deep down, an unsettling feeling stirred within me that perhaps the story about Violet was about to take a much darker turn.
VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW
After Aunt Quinn had left, I decided it was time to change out of the slightly uncomfortable outfit I had been wearing. I slipped into something a lot cozier: a loose-fitting sweatshirt paired with my favorite pair of shorts, which felt perfect against my skin. With that, I made my way downstairs, craving a breath of fresh air to clear my mind.
Thethe cool night breeze greeted me, playfully stirring the leaves in the trees around me. I took a moment to stand there, soaking in the tranquility of the evening. The distant city lights twinkled faintly, casting a gentle glow over everything. Just then, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, interrupting my brief moment of peace. It was a text from Jason.
“Hey, you okay? I’ve been trying to call you,” it read. A small smile crept onto my face as I typed back,
“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for checking on me.”Almost immediately, another message chimed in, but before I could read it, I heard a soft honk from outside. I turned, instinctively feeling a jolt of anxiety and curiosity. Could it be Mom? I cautiously made my way to the edge of the balcony to get a better view.
What I saw made my heart drop. A sleek black car had pulled up in front of the gate, its headlights slicing through the evening haze like two piercing beams of light. My eyes widened as the door swung open and Dylan stepped out. I blinked in disbelief, trying to wrap my head around his sudden appearance.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath. He looked up, his gaze meeting mine almost instantly, and a familiar, teasing half-smirk spread across his face.
“Mon chérie!” he called out with a playful lilt in his voice. .
“I thought I’d stop by to check up on you and make sure you didn’t collapse again.” I folded my arms defensively, surprised by his presence.
“What are you doing here, Dylan?” I asked, genuinely taken aback. How had he even found my house? Then it dawned on me—maybe he had tracked my location through the car he had so generously lent me earlier.
“Just returning a favor,” he replied nonchalantly, holding up his hand, where my silver charm bracelet dangled.
My breath hitched as I recognized it immediately,the one Sophie had given me on my birthday. I hadn’t even realized it was missing!,Excitedly, I rushed downstairs to meet him at the gate, my heart racing with anticipation.
“Thank you,” I said softly, reaching out to take the bracelet from him. Just as our fingers brushed, a jolt of electricity shot up my arm. His hand lingered on mine for a brief second, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze boring into my face, his eyes unreadable yet profound.
“You should be more careful, Violet,” he murmured, his tone low and serious.
“Next time, I might not be around to save you.” The way he said it sent shivers down my spine, not from fear, but from a deeper place I couldn’t quite articulate yet. Before I had the chance to respond, a sudden voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“Violet?” I turned around abruptly, startled to see Jason standing at the gate. The shift in his demeanor was instantaneous; I could see the moment his expression darkened upon realizing Dylan was with me.
“Who’s this?” he grumbled as he stepped forward, his body language exuding irritation.
“Oh, umm, he’s my classmate,” I stammered, trying to diffuse the tension.
“Jason, meet Dylan, my classmate. And Dylan, this is Jason, my friend.” I watched as the two of them simply stared each other down, a palpable intensity thickening the air between us.
“Since when did you start having male friends? I’m sure your mom wouldn’t be too happy about that,” Jason quipped, his tone dripping with skepticism. His eyes narrowed at Dylan, who stood his ground but flexed his jaw slightly.
“Relax, man. I’m just dropping something off,” Dylan replied casually, but the underlying tension was unmistakable. Jason’s glance flicked from my wrist where my bracelet now rested and back to Dylan, a silent challenge in his expression.
“Sure you are,” Jason muttered, and the air crackled with unspoken animosity, thick and dangerous, like a brewing storm.
“Well, I guess I’ll get going then, mon chéri,” Dylan said with a hint of mischief. Jason frowned immediately, clearly unsettled by Dylan’s familiarity.
“Mon chéri? You didn’t tell me your mom changed your name to Mon Chéri,” Jason shot back, his frustration growing.
“Are you serious right now?” I replied, rolling my eyes in exasperation.
“Okay, bye, Dylan,” I added quickly, waving goodbye. Dylan glanced at Jason one last time before getting back into his car and driving off, leaving me standing there with Jason.
VIOLET’S POINT OF VIEW
As Dylan’s car slowly receded into the distance, the sound of its engine faded until it was just a whisper carried away by the evening breeze. The ensuing silence wrapped around me like a thick fog, pressing down heavily against my chest, making each breath feel just a little more labored. The night air was pleasantly cool, a welcome contrast to the heat lingering on my skin where Dylan’s fingers had brushed against mine just moments before. I blinked several times in an attempt to clear my head and shake off the peculiar flutter in my chest that his touch had ignited.
Standing next to me was Jason, arms firmly crossed over his chest, his expression a mixture of tension and confusion that was difficult to decipher. The intensity of his gaze was unlike anything I had encountered before, one I couldn’t quite understand, which made me feel even more on edge.
“You didn’t take the time to inform me that you were becoming close to guys like him,” Jason said, his voice low, but underlined with an unmistakable tone of accusation. I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the moment settle upon my shoulders.
“Jason, I really don’t know what you’re getting at. He’s merely a classmate. He came by to return a bracelet that I lost,” I explained, trying to maintain my composure. Jason snorted incredulously.
“Oh, really? That’s the story we’re going with? Because from my vantage point, it didn’t appear as though he was just dropping off a piece of jewelry,” he shot back, irritation palpable in his tone. A wave of frustration washed over me, making my patience wear thin.
“What exactly is your problem? You’ve been away for months, and now that you’re back, your first impulse is to interrogate me as if you’re playing the role of my father?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. I thought I saw a flicker of softness in his eyes, but the firmness of his words remained unyielding.
“I’m just saying, Violet… people like him don’t care about girls like you,” he stated, and I felt a sting deep within me—a sharp pain that caught me off guard.
“Girls like me?” I repeated, my voice rising slightly, disbelief coloring my tone.
“You know what I’m talking about,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to shake off his own discomfort with the situation.
“You’re different, Vi. You’re not like them. He’s trouble, and I can sense it,” he insisted, something deeply concerned in his tone. My scoff slipped out involuntarily.
“You don’t even know him,” I replied quietly, though a part of me couldn’t help but wonder if I truly knew Dylan, either. He was a living contradiction, exuding charm one moment and displaying an unexpected kindness the next.
Jason sighed and took a step closer, lowering his voice as if he were sharing a secret. “Just… be careful, okay? I genuinely don’t trust that guy. And if your mom were here, she wouldn’t either,” he said, his words striking a heavy blow that left me momentarily speechless. I turned my gaze away, feeling the tightness in my throat as my heart sank.
“Well, my mom is not here, Jason,” I shot back, my anger coming through loud and clear. I could see him flinch in response to my harshness, and I instantly regretted my tone. But before either of us could engage further in this increasingly tense conversation, Aunt Quinn’s voice, sweet yet authoritative, drifted down from the balcony above.
“Violet? Is everything alright down there?” she called out, her concern evident.
“Yes, Auntie! Just chatting with Jason!” I replied, trying hard to infuse my voice with a brightness I didn’t truly feel. I watched as her shadow lingered for a moment before she retreated back inside the house. When I turned back to Jason, I was surprised to see a softer expression on his face.
“I’ll head out,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “But I meant what I said—be cautious.”
“I know,” I whispered, the weight of his warning hanging in the air between us.
“Goodnight, Jason,” I said quietly. He gave me one last long look, one full of unspoken words and unshared worries, before he turned toward his bike parked nearby. The rumble of the engine came to life, cutting through the quiet of the night before it too vanished into the darkness. And then, just like that, I was alone again, staring down at the silver bracelet that glinted softly against my wrist, a reminder of fleeting moments and tangled emotions.
DYLAN’S POINT OF VIEW
I found myself almost resenting the suffocating silence that enveloped the car after the music had faded away. Usually, I didn’t mind being alone with my thoughts, but tonight was different. Tonight was heavy with memories—the way Violet looked illuminated under the porch light, her voice trembling slightly when she thanked me; those moments played over and over in my head like a song stuck on repeat, and I couldn’t find a way to hit pause.
When I finally arrived home, the familiar sight of my driveway greeted me, yet my mind was far from settled. Zayn’s voice broke through my swirling thoughts as I pulled into my parking spot. He was casually perched on the hood of his car, tossing a soda can from one hand to the other with an almost effortless rhythm.
“So, how was the late-night drop-off?” he queried, a knowing smirk dancing on his lips. I returned the gesture with a smirk of my own, masking the turmoil in my thoughts.
“None of your business,” I replied, trying to sound at ease, but I could see Johnson’s amusement from his position propped against the wall nearby.
“Come on, Dylan, it’s not like we don’t already know you’ve been spending a bit too much time on the nerd,” he teased, that gleam of mischief evident in his eyes.
“She’s not—” I began, feeling the need to defend her before Zayn interjected.
“Not what? Not your type? Please. You’ve been looking at her like she’s a math problem you’re desperate to solve,” Zayn shot back, unable to suppress his laughter.
“Shut up,” I muttered, even though the defensiveness in my tone betrayed my irritation at his jibe.
Zayn’s grin widened. “Oh, I struck a nerve.”
With an exasperated sigh, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to gather my thoughts.
“It’s not like that, alright? She’s just… different. She doesn’t fall for the same old lines and nonsense like everyone else does,” I explained, hoping my words conveyed just how unique I found her to be.
“Exactly,” Johnson said, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back slightly, seeming to acknowledge the truth behind my words.
“That’s probably why you’re feeling so curious. For you, it’s almost like a challenge.”
A challenge. The mere mention of the word struck me harder than I had anticipated. Because, in truth, that’s how all of this had begun a mere game. An utterly foolish bet. A way to demonstrate something to them. Yet, as I stood there tonight, watching her interact with that guy, the way she looked at him with an unmistakable glimmer of trust, something within me shifted dramatically. I found myself struggling to accept it. I was deeply unsettled by the entire situation.
“I think I’m going to head to bed,” I mumbled, squeezing past them and making my way toward the house.
I could hear Zayn chuckling behind me, his tone laced with amusement.
“Sure thing, lover boy. Sweet dreams about your nerd……i hope she accepts you or……” He said and I heard them chuckled but I chose not to respond to him. Once I reached my room and closed the door firmly behind me, an overwhelming silence engulfed the space this time, the stillness felt more pronounced, almost deafening.And in that silence, all I could see was her face.
QUINN’S POINT OF VIEW
From my vantage point at the upstairs window, I observed as the headlights from Jason’s bike gradually faded into the distance, disappearing into the enveloping darkness of the night. The sight evoked a peculiar ache in my chest part anxiety, part fascination.
Violet was not the kind of girl who sought out trouble; rather, it seemed that trouble had a unique way of gravitating toward her. I had noticed it in the way that boy, Dylan, looked at her—as though he were harboring a secret he hadn’t yet come to terms with himself.
And then there was the sudden return of Jason, which certainly wasn’t easing my mind. I let out a weary sigh and closed the window, allowing my thoughts to spill out in a soft whisper,
“Diana, you are going to lose it when you discover that your daughter is tangled up in this mess, and honestly, I have no idea how to extricate her from it.” I mummured with a deep sigh.
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*TBC 😱😱😱😱
