Axel's POV — After Ava Confesses
I froze. For a second, I couldn't even move. She… said it.
She liked me. Ava — my infuriating, impossible, stunningly stubborn Ava — liked me. And she had just admitted it, right here, in front of me. My chest tightened, heart racing, but I refused to let it show too much.
A smirk tugged at my lips anyway. I couldn't help it. "Well," I said slowly, letting the words linger between us, "that's… surprising."
Her eyes narrowed immediately, that mix of embarrassment and defiance flashing across her face. "Surprising? Are you kidding me?"
I stepped a fraction closer, letting her feel the heat radiating off me without actually touching her. "No," I said, voice low, teasing. "I mean… yes. I'm surprised. Surprised you finally admitted it. Took you long enough."
Her jaw tightened. "I… didn't need to say it. You already know how I feel."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Know? Oh, I know plenty. But I like it when you admit things. Makes it… official. Dangerous."
She glared, but I could see the flush creeping up her neck, the way her hands fidgeted with her bag strap. That subtle hesitation, the tiniest sign of vulnerability — it made me grin even wider.
"You're impossible," she whispered, almost under her breath.
I leaned in just slightly, close enough that I could see every flicker of her expression. "And yet, here you are, admitting you like me," I murmured, voice low and teasing. "So… who's really impossible now?"
Her eyes widened, and she stepped back just slightly, but not enough to escape. Not enough to stop the tension that was thick in the air between us.
I could feel it. She could feel it. That electric pull that had been building between us for weeks — hotter, sharper, impossible to ignore.
I let my smirk soften, eyes locking on hers. "You know," I said quietly, almost seriously now, "I've been waiting for that. For you to finally stop pretending you didn't feel anything."
Her lips parted, and I caught that fleeting vulnerability in her eyes — a crack in her usual armor. I wanted to reach out, touch her hand, pull her closer. But instead, I just let the silence stretch, letting her feel it too.
And damn, the thought of her reaction, the way she flushed under my gaze, made me want to lean in anyway — teasing, dangerous, slow… letting her taste exactly how much this had been eating me up for weeks.
Because now? There was no denying it.
And neither of us would be able to stop.
Ava pov
His fingers lingered on my wrist, tight enough to remind me he wasn't letting go, yet gentle enough to make my stomach flip. Every heartbeat felt like it was echoing in my chest.
"You're my girlfriend now," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "And there's no backing out. You're mine. Everything about you is mine."
I froze, my thoughts scattering. Mine? Everything about me? The words weren't just possessive—they were claiming, a declaration that made my pulse race and my knees feel weak. I opened my mouth to speak, to argue, to tell him this was insane… but no sound came out.
He tilted his head, his eyes locking with mine, sharp and unyielding. That look… it made my knees tremble in a way I couldn't explain. A mix of frustration, fear, and something else—something dangerously thrilling—twisted in my chest.
Then, like a switch had been flipped, he stepped back, loosening his grip. I wanted to reach for him, to pull him back, but my body refused to obey. He slung his bag over his shoulder, casually turning toward the exit.
"W–wait," I stammered, my voice shaky. "Where are you going?"
He glanced back, smirk curling on his lips, the same infuriating, infuriating smirk that made my stomach drop. "Baseball match," he said, casually, like declaring me his and walking away were two completely separate things.
I opened my mouth again, but the words caught in my throat. How could he act so… normal, after what he'd just said? My mind screamed at me to chase after him, to demand answers, to tell him he couldn't just… claim me like that.
Then, like a switch had been flipped, he stepped back, loosening his grip. I wanted to reach for him, to pull him back, but my body refused to obey. He slung his bag over his shoulder, casually turning toward the exit.
"W–wait," I stammered, my voice shaky. "Where are you going?"
He glanced back, smirk curling on his lips, the same infuriating, infuriating smirk that made my stomach drop. "Baseball match"
I barely had time to collect myself before he glanced back, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips.
"You… wanna come?" he asked, voice teasing, like he already knew the answer before I even opened my mouth.
I blinked. Me? To a baseball match? My mind scrambled, half-shocked, half-curious. "C–can I?" I stammered, my words sounding far more nervous than I intended.
He grinned then, a slow, confident curl of lips that made my chest tighten. "Sure," he said, like it was nothing. "If you want."
Thirty minutes later, I found myself perched on the edge of the bleachers, watching him move across the field with that effortless confidence I couldn't stop staring at. The smirk I'd seen earlier had softened into a grin now—warm, inviting, and just a little triumphant.
I couldn't help it. My mind replayed every word, every look he'd given me just moments ago. Mine. Everything about you is mine.
And yet, sitting there, feeling the sun on my skin and hearing the thump of the ball hitting the bat, I realized something: part of me… didn't mind. Not even a little.
When he caught my gaze, that grin widening as if he'd read my thoughts, my heart skipped. He winked—just a subtle flick of the eye—but it was enough to make me forget how to breathe properly.
"Glad you came," he said later, casually, like it was the simplest thing in the world, though I knew better.
I just nodded, trying to act indifferent, but the blush on my cheeks betrayed me. My thoughts were a storm, all him, all now, and all the impossible thrill of feeling… his.
The stadium was buzzing, a cacophony of cheers and laughter. I had barely gotten comfortable when I realized the extent of Axel's… influence.
He stepped onto the field, his posture perfect, movements smooth and confident, and suddenly it was impossible to ignore the sea of girls cheering his name. Axel, they shouted, Axel! Some waved banners, others shouted until their voices were hoarse.
I felt a twist of something sharp in my chest—jealousy, undeniable and sudden. Why did it sting so much? I tried to hide behind my hands, pretending I wasn't noticing, but every laugh he drew, every playful wink he gave, made my stomach tighten.
And he looked… professional. Not just skilled at baseball, but commanding, like he owned the field. His uniform hugged him just right, his movements precise yet effortless, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. The way he held the bat, the way he glanced at the catcher, it was almost cinematic.
Beside me, my friends whispered, nudging me and giggling. "Wow, Ava, look at him!" Emma said, smirking knowingly. "I don't blame them."
I shot her a glare, though my heart betrayed me, fluttering at the sight of him.
On the other side, Axel's friends were cheering too, their voices loud, teasing him. He waved at them casually, a grin spreading across his face. But then his eyes found mine. That same grin that made my knees go weak. It was infuriating and… irresistible all at once.
He jogged over for a break between innings, sweat glinting in the sunlight, and I could feel every girl in the stadium watching him. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. He was mesmerizing—effortlessly charming, skilled, and completely captivating.
"Enjoying the view?" he called over casually, though his tone held a teasing edge that made my stomach flip.
I huffed, trying to act indifferent, my hands tightening around the railing. "I'm not," I muttered, though my friends snickered behind me, clearly not believing me for a second.
He laughed, that easy, full laugh that made my heart hurt in the best possible way. "Sure, Ava. Keep telling yourself that," he said, giving me that infuriating grin.
And just like that, my jealousy, my frustration, my entire awareness of him being… his, all collided in a storm that left me flustered, flustered in front of everyone, and painfully aware of exactly what I was feeling.
The game was in full swing, and Axel was… everything. Fast, precise, professional. Every movement he made drew cheers, but it wasn't just his skill—it was the way he carried himself. Commanding, confident, completely magnetic. My stomach twisted again as I realized just how many eyes were on him… including mine.
Then it happened. A girl from the stands waved at him, shouting his name, and without missing a beat, he winked. My jaw practically dropped. Seriously? A wink?
I felt my cheeks heat up, a mix of irritation and something else I couldn't quite name. I crossed my arms, trying to act aloof, but my friends weren't letting me off easy.
"Someone's jealous," Emma teased, elbowing me.
I shot her a glare. "I am not," I muttered, but my voice sounded hollow even to me.
Axel jogged over during a break, a towel slung over his shoulders, sweat glistening on his skin, hair slightly messy in that effortlessly perfect way. He leaned casually against the railing near me. "You're awfully quiet," he said, smirking.
"Just… watching the game," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
He chuckled softly, eyes glinting with mischief. "Uh-huh. Sure," he said, leaning a little closer. "You're jealous, aren't you?"
I nearly choked on my own words. "I am not jealous!" I snapped, though the heat creeping up my neck betrayed me.
"Mm, right," he said, grinning, clearly enjoying the effect he was having. "You do realize I can see the way you look at me?"
I wanted to bury my face in my hands. My friends were snickering behind me, and even some of his friends were laughing, clearly in on whatever game he was playing.
"You think this is funny?" I asked, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as he leaned just a little closer, close enough that I could smell his cologne, sharp and intoxicating.
"Funny? Not at all," he murmured, his grin softening into something almost predatory, almost tender. "Just… adorable."
My heart skipped. Adorable? Me?
He winked again and jogged back to the field, leaving me sitting there, flushed, flustered, and painfully aware of every inch of him. I tried to act annoyed, tried to look away—but my eyes kept finding him, and I couldn't deny the thrill, the pull, the undeniable tension that crackled between us.