The sound of your knuckles tapping against the heavy oak door echoes faintly in the warm summer air. The familiar sight of the sprawling estate looms around you—pristine gardens, an elaborate fountain gurgling softly in the circular driveway, and the unmistakable hum of distant cicadas. The door swings open abruptly, and there she is. Neon. At 19 now, she’s no longer the wide-eyed, bratty little girl you once looked after. Instead, she’s standing there in a crop top and high-waisted shorts that leave very little to the imagination. Her bright, neon-blue hair is pulled into messy space buns, a few strands framing her face. Her large, icy-blue eyes light up instantly when she sees you, a slow smirk tugging at her glossed lips. “Well, well, well…” she drawls, leaning against the doorframe with dramatic flair. “Look who decided to grace me with his presence. You’re late, by the way. Like… five whole minutes. I was starting to think you forgot about me.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, though the teasing grin never leaves her face. She steps aside to let you in but doesn’t move far—close enough that you catch the faint scent of something sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, as you brush past her. Her gaze trails up and down as if she’s sizing you up, and when you finally turn to set your bag down in the grand foyer, she’s already leaning against the staircase railing, watching you like a cat with a new toy. “You know, I was this close to calling you and making you grovel for being late,” she says, holding her thumb and forefinger barely apart. “But I guess I’ll let it slide. This time.” Her voice drips with playful sass, but there’s something else beneath it—something more intense. The way her eyes linger on you, the faint flush dusting her cheeks—it’s a far cry from the bratty little girl who used to demand extra dessert before bedtime. “I’ve been waiting forever for this, by the way,” she continues, bounding down the last couple of steps with an almost childlike energy that contrasts sharply with her sultry demeanor. “Two whole months of just you and me. No parents, no interruptions… You’re not allowed to leave me bored, okay?” Before you can react, she’s standing right in front of you, tilting her head up to meet your gaze. At barely 4’11”, she’s always been small, but her presence feels larger than life. She tugs lightly at your sleeve, her glossy lips forming a pout that’s all too familiar. “Promise you’ll entertain me?” she asks, her voice softer now, almost coaxing. “I’ve been so lonely.”

Pouting even more now, she tilts her head to the side. "Oh, are you sure? 'Cause if you're not feeling it anymore..." She pauses dramatically, glancing down at your lap before looking back up with a sultry grin. "...I could always find someone else to keep me company." Her voice is husky, as if she's saying something far more suggestive than she actually is.

I mean... you're not exactly Gretel the giant, either. Still, you do have your... certain charms. her hand drifts up to lightly caress his cheek before running through his hair I guess we can make do with what we've got. Besides, who else would put up with my bratty attitude?

Rolling her eyes, Neon makes a show of sighing dramatically before strolling over to the pantry. "Oh, you poor little thing," she coos, bending down so she's almost nose-to-nose with him. "You'll have to use your itty-bitty climbing skills to reach those." She grins wickedly before giving his shoulder a playful shove, just out of reach of the cookies. "Now go on, little mouse... see what you can do!"

But as she watches him struggle awkwardly to reach the cookies, something unexpected happens. A warmth spreads through her chest at the sight of his attempt to be self-sufficient, even though she knows he secretly loves it when she teases him. For a moment, their gazes meet, and Neon feels a pang of affection for this man who's been such a

Neon's expression shifts almost instantly from mocking amusement to genuine concern. "Are you okay?" she asks, quickly rushing over and cradling his head in her hands. A hand darts out to gently wipe away the single tear that had escaped from the corner of his eye. "Clara, I'm so sorry!" she exclaims, tilting his chin up so they're looking at each other.

Her touch is surprisingly gentle, almost reverent as she examines him for any signs of pain. A thrill runs down her spine at the closeness of their bodies, but something else catches in her throat too—a sense of protectiveness that feels both unfamiliar and unexpectedly powerful. She glances away briefly before meeting his gaze again, a small smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "You know," she whispers, "you should probably be

never stand so close to the pantry. That's how you get bonked on the head," she says with an indulgent smile. "But now that we're here... Can I have one of those cookies? Please?" Her expression turns mischievous, and her hand reaches up to snake through his hair, tugging playfully on a lock.

There's a brief pause before he finally answers with a small nod. It's almost imperceptible, but she catches it nonetheless. His cheeks flush pink as she retrieves the cookie from its hidden spot and holds it out to him, her expression now sultry and victorious. "Thank you," he whispers hoarsely, eyeing the treat hungrily before meeting her gaze again.

She feels a thrill run down her spine at the exchange, the power play between them somehow heightening the sensation. With one

There's an almost electric tension between them now, drawing her closer with every breath. "Don't worry," she whispers back, the words husky and slow as syrup. "I always take good care of you." Her eyes drift down to his lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long before she finally pulls away, stealing one last glance at him over her shoulder as she walks toward the living room. "Come on," she says with a sultry purr, gesturing for him to follow her. "I think we have some fun and games planned."

The memories flood back to her as she leads him into the living room. It's almost surreal how time has flown by since that first day they met. From changing his diapers and teaching him how to walk, to comforting him when he cried at night and wiping his nose after snot rockets, she's always been there for him. And even as he grew older, she never stopped doting on him like the clumsy oaf he was—and still is, in some ways. It's part of what makes him so endearing, and it only makes her love for him burn brighter. As they settle onto the plush couch, she looks at him with a mix of fondness and amusement. "You know," she says quietly, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair again, "you really never did grow out of that, did you?" Before he can reply, she continues with

As the evening progresses, the guests begin arriving. They're an eclectic bunch, each more eccentric than the last, but somehow they all seem to mesh together in this lavish mansion. The music blares, the drinks flow freely, and laughter fills the air like a thick haze. It's loud, it's obnoxious, and Neon couldn't be happier about it.

She spends most of her time flitting from group to group, charming everyone with her wit and playful antics. But every now and then, she finds herself drawn back to Clara', as if his presence is the only thing that keeps her grounded in this chaotic whirlwind. Whenever their eyes meet across a crowded room, there's an undeniable spark between them, a connection that seems to grow stronger with each passing moment.

Finally, she can no longer resist

Her heart leaps into her throat as she sees him crumple under the weight of another fallen can. With a growl, she pushes through the throng of partygoers and practically sprints to his side, arriving just in time to catch him before he hits the ground. "Are you okay?" she shrieks, her eyes wide with panic as they dart around frantically.

Clara looks up at her, his cheeks stinging from where he'd been hit. There's an expression of disbelief and slight annoyance on his face, but beneath that, she can see the glimmer of amusement twinkling in his eyes. He snorts softly before answering, "I'll be fine." But even as he says it, he reaches up to touch the sore spot on his head, wincing slightly.

She leans down, examining him

Neon's heart clenches at the sight of his pain. It's all too familiar to her—the way he would always brush off his injuries and act tough when he was hurting deep down inside. She knows better than anyone how much those little bumps and bruises can sting, especially after everything they've been through together.

"Clara," she whispers urgently, her hand reaching up to stroke his cheek, "let me take you to the room and... and patch you up a bit." Her voice trembles slightly as she fights back tears, unsure why the idea of seeing him hurt makes her want to break down so badly. But despite everything, she can't help but feel protective, almost possessive of his well-being in that moment.

He meets her gaze, and there's a flash of vulnerability in his eyes before it disappears just as quickly

It's like she can see right through him. That momentary glimpse of hurt and fear in his eyes was enough to make her heart ache with pain and longing. She takes a step closer, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek tenderly. "Come on," she whispers, "let me take care of you."

There's an almost imperceptible shift in the air between them as they share this moment, their connection growing stronger with every breath. It feels right somehow - this overwhelming need to protect and be protected by each other. Even amidst the chaos of the party, it seems as though nothing else matters but this perfect

It's all she can do not to press herself against him, seeking the comfort that his touch seems to offer so effortlessly. Her heartbeat thrums wildly in her chest as they share this private moment, their gazes locked on each other. She doesn't want anything more than to be there with him, taking care of him and being taken care of in return.

The thought sends a shiver down her spine, making her suddenly aware of how close they really are. It feels so right somehow - this feeling of belonging to each other, of being irrevocably connected. And as she stands there, lost in the depths of those blue eyes, she knows with every fiber of her being that nothing will ever be able to come between them again.

The air crackles with an almost electric energy, making her want to lean forward and taste him - feel his lips against hers. It's a fleeting thought, gone

The rest of the night passes in a blur of music and laughter. As much as she enjoys herself, part of her can't help but feel disconnected from the revelry surrounding her. Her thoughts keep drifting back to the tender moment they shared earlier, when she felt so close to him - closer than ever before.

It wasn't just about taking care of his injuries; it was about connecting on a deeper level. A part of her had always wished for that closeness, had craved his affection and attention above all else. And tonight, for just a moment, she'd felt like she finally had it. But now, as the party reaches its peak and Clara returns to center stage, she wonders if that feeling will ever last.

She watches him from across the room, admiring his ease with everyone there, even though she knows he only has eyes for her when they meet again. It's a head

Neon's entire demeanor changes when her boyfriend walks in. Her body language shuts down, becoming more guarded and reserved. She instantly loses interest in the party, focusing all of her attention on the newcomer instead. It's almost as if she has forgotten about Clara entirely.

Her boyfriend is everything she isn't - tall, handsome, and confident. He's everything everyone thinks Neon should be with. And yet, as much as they may look good together on paper, there's always been something missing between them. A spark that just never quite ignited. In comparison, the connection she shares with Clara feels so much deeper - almost palpable at times like these when he's right there beside her, but entirely invisible to everyone else in the room.

Neon tries to act normal around her boyfriend but she can't keep her eyes off Clara and when they finally do meet gazes she looks at him with longing and need in her eyes. It drives her boyfriend crazy as he sees it happen over and over again throughout the night, eventually causing a huge argument between them that everyone notices.

Neon glances nervously at her boyfriend whenever she catches sight of Clara watching them. She tries to hide the longing in her eyes but fails miserably. Her cheeks burn red with shame as she hears her boyfriend accuse her of playing games, of not being satisfied with him even though they've been together for so long.

Inside, she wants nothing more than to run back over to Clara, to apologize and explain that it's not what it looks like. But she knows better than anyone how possessive and jealous he can be when provoked. For now, all she can do is suffer through the argument in silence, hoping against hope that somehow things will go back to normal between them before too long.