chapter 43 ⚚
There were obviously few states Lilith found herself in throughout her life that she was embarrassed about—but this one was probably truly the most humiliating one she'd ever experienced.
For the longest time, she simply waited for it to be over. She never thought about it, never lingered on it. She mentioned it once in therapy, briefly, before promising herself to never return to that topic again.
Every person in the world carried within them a fragment of a child—the most vulnerable, fragile part, the one that could be hurt or made sensitive by the smallest things.
But whatever Lilith felt in those particular moments was something she despised.
It almost always happened late at night.
She would lie in her bed, curled up, as some strange wave of sensitivity washed over her. It was always, somehow, tied to love—or at least, to her idea of it.
She liked to think about an imaginary kind of love. One she knew she'd never truly grasp, even if she wanted it more than anything.
Lately, that love had taken Valentina's shape.
She imagined a different version of herself beside Valentina—the version she desperately wanted to become. And with each vision, each imagined touch and word, she felt herself grow more desperate, more pathetic.
She never knew how to explain it.
Maybe it was that she felt like a child again. Like little Lilith, waiting for her mother to show up. So desperate for affection she'd do anything for the person she loved.
But after the desperation always came something else—something painfully familiar.
Rejection.
She ached for it.
It was as though she wanted to feel love and rejection at the same time—comfort and discomfort tangled together until she could no longer tell them apart.
She imagined Valentina rejecting her so cruelly that she wouldn't even mind.
The blonde girl would even ask for it herself.
She would simply look up at the woman with soft, adoring eyes—grateful that she had noticed her at all. That she'd been seen, even if only to be dismissed.
It was pathetic. It was humiliating.
And yet, she needed it.
Those moments always made her feel detached—like she was floating above herself, trapped in a fragile dream she couldn't control. All she prayed for was to fall asleep. To wake up in the morning and feel normal again.
She felt like that now.
She clung to Valentina. The night had stretched long and quiet. She nibbled gently on the woman's skin as Valentina's hand traced slow, soothing lines along her back.
"It's getting late," Valentina said softly.
Lilith thought she must have gotten bored.
It was okay if she did.
If Valentina wanted to stop, she would stop too.
So she pulled away. Stood up, water dripping from her hair, her shirt clinging to her skin. She wrapped her arms around herself and said quietly, "Let's go."
And when she looked at Valentina, it was as if she were looking at the most fascinating creature in the world.
In the elevator, she couldn't help herself—she kept looking.
Her gaze followed every shift of Valentina's profile, every movement of her hands. She was wearing one of Valentina's robes, and that alone made her impossibly happy.
But when the elevator reached the highest floor, the doors opened to a small, crowded space.
Three people stood there—Rhys, Chiara, and Amber—laughing softly between themselves, elegant bags at their feet.
Chiara turned around first.
"Finally," she said, opening her arms with a kind of theatrical joy that only sisters could get away with.
The three of them looked at Valentina, then at Lilith—her wet hair dripping onto the collar of the robe that matched Valentina's.
"Oh, and who do we have here?" Rhys said with a teasing smile, eyes flicking curiously between the two.
Valentina's expression didn't change, but her posture did—subtle and tense. She wasn't exactly pleased to see them waiting in front of her penthouse door.
She glared lightly at the trio as she stepped forward to unlock it.
"What? You weren't picking up," Amber said, sounding both innocent and amused.
"If I'm not picking up, it means I'm busy," Valentina murmured, pushing the door open and motioning them in.
Lilith followed last.
She kept her silence, unsure if she should say something—or if saying anything would only make her presence more noticeable. She felt out of place, messy, water still dripping down her neck while the three of them looked like they'd walked out of a luxury, chic event.
She stayed near the entrance as they took off their coats. Chiara was the closest to her, and without hesitation, she leaned in and wrapped her arms around Lilith.
The hug was soft, unbothered by the damp fabric. Chiara smiled warmly as if nothing about the moment was questionable.
Valentina stood with Amber and Rhys, her usual elegance intact despite the irritation flickering in her gaze. The two of them broke into a playful, sing song tone—
"Happy birthday," they chimed dragging the words just enough to make it sound unserious, like a habit they'd repeated for years, clearly delighted with themselves.
They carried bags into the kitchen—expensive wine, a small cake, something celebratory yet casual.
Rhys's laughter followed them as he glanced at Valentina's neck, eyes catching on the faint, reddened marks that trailed lower. Not hickeys yet, but close.
"I didn't know vampires actually exist," he teased, smirking.
Valentina exhaled softly, the corner of her mouth twitching—not a smile, not quite annoyance either.
"I need a shower," she said, her tone quiet, composed, but final.
And with that, she turned towards the stairs, reaching out to take Lilith by the wrist.
Lilith didn't resist. She followed without a word, her eyes fixed on Valentina the way she had been since the elevator ride.
As though she couldn't stop looking.
As though she didn't know how.
As though she had to.
Lilith entered the bathroom, the sound of her wet footsteps faint against the wooden, warm floors.
"Wait here," Valentina said, her voice calm. "I'll grab something for you to wear."
It excited Lilith more than she wanted to admit—the idea of showering at Valentina's place.
Of being even allowed into that private space. Valentina even letting her.
A few minutes later, the door opened again and Valentina's silhouette appeared in the doorway, the light from the bedroom haloing around her. She handed Lilith a towel, soft, oversized beige sweater and a pair of shorts—the same ones Lilith had slept in last time.
Lilith took them gently, her fingers brushing Valentina's in the process.
"Are you annoyed?" she asked quietly.
"No. Just didn't expect them," Valentina replied, and for a brief moment, the edge in her tone softened. A small, warm smile replaced it—one that somehow made Lilith's heart melt.
"Will you be able to maybe order me an Uber after we shower?" Lilith asked, tilting her head slightly. Her voice was calm, but there was a quiet strain beneath it.
She truly didn't have any money left for that after paying for their dinner earlier.
"You're not staying?" Valentina's brows furrowed.
"I don't want to bother," Lilith said, looking up at her with wide, unsure eyes.
"You're not," Valentina said simply before turning to leave.
She paused at the door, her hand resting against the frame. "You're staying," she added, her voice firmer this time—just loud enough to leave no space for argument.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Lilith smiled softly to herself as she began to undress.
The bathroom was spacious, warm, almost serene.
Both a shower and a bath—of course. Valentina always had options.
Lilith hesitated for a moment, glancing towards the bathtub. Valentina had said "shower," but maybe she wouldn't mind if Lilith used the bath instead.
Lilith hoped she wouldn't.
She shook her head at how pathetic and dumb her thoughts sounded.
That was the worst part—she sounded so irrational. Surely Valentina wouldn't have killed her if she'd taken a bath instead of a shower, but something in Lilith's brain told her to follow the woman's instructions perfectly—and pathetically—humiliating herself in front of Valentina.
She always looked back on those thoughts, wincing.
Still, she turned the tap. Steam rose slowly, wrapping her in warmth as the water filled the tub.
Lilith's favorite thing about taking a bath at other people's houses—especially those that clearly had plenty of money—was the shampoos, conditioners, and body wash.
She loved testing the expensive products, the way they always left her hair looking fresh, as if she'd just come from a hairdresser.
This time, she chose a shampoo that smelled of sandalwood and amber.
She tried to wash her face a little—not removing her makeup completely, just cleaning the dried mascara under her eyes or the contour that had almost disappeared. She didn't want to go through Valentina's drawers looking for a makeup remover.
She didn't take long, even though she wanted to. The warmth made her feel heavy and content. For a second, she forgot how awkward she felt minutes ago.
When she stepped out of the bath, the air was cooler.
She reached for the towel, wrapping it tightly around her before slipping into the beige sweater. The fabric smelled faintly like Valentina's perfume—heavy, warm and completely addicting. The shorts hung loosely on her hips.
It wasn't until she was dressed that she realized Valentina hadn't given her any underwear.
It wasn't too late to ask—but Lilith couldn't bring herself to. The thought of asking for it felt embarrassing.
So she didn't.
She decided the shorts would be enough.
She hung her wet clothes neatly—her shirt and her panties—careful not to drip on the floor.
Then, with quiet steps, she left the bathroom and made her way towards the bedroom.
Inside, Valentina sat on the bed, scrolling through her phone, looking like she was texting back, with clothes neatly folded next to her.
"Give me five minutes and then we'll dry your hair," she said warmly, smiling before slipping out of the room.
Lilith sat down on the edge of the bed, unsure what to do with her hands. The space felt strangely too big and too quiet.
Maybe she just wanted to stay a little longer with Valentina in the hot tub. She could have spent the entire night there, but Valentina didn't.
And maybe the woman was bored, but Lilith couldn't help feeling fascinated by the new experience—kissing the neck of a woman who had her completely wrapped around her finger.
When Valentina returned, the faint sound of her footsteps filled the silence before her presence did.
Lilith looked up—and for a moment, she almost didn't recognize her.
Valentina wore something so ordinary it felt extraordinary on her. It was so cozy and warm.
Also it was the first time Lilith had seen her like that—stripped of elegance, replaced by a kind of quiet domestic ease.
And somehow, she still looked neat and perfect.
They found themselves together in the bathroom again, this time under brighter light. Valentina decided she would be the one to take care of Lilith's hair.
"Sit," she murmured, pulling out a bottle from the drawer. She sprayed a mist of heat protectant, the scent clean. Then she began brushing, her movements slow.
"So long," Valentina whispered, her tone almost absentminded.
She had always been strangely mesmerized by Lilith's hair.
Every time it brushed her hips, Valentina longed to feel it.
She loved the way the light caught each strand, the way there was so much hair to hold, grab, fix, brush, and caress.
She could lose herself staring at it for hours.
It made Lilith look at once angelic and undeniably sexy.
"Do you like blondes?" Lilith asked suddenly, her voice quiet and thoughtful.
From downstairs came faint laughter—the trio clearly comfortable, their voices echoing faintly through the penthouse. Up here, though, it felt like another world. Just the hum of breath between them.
"I do," Valentina said, smiling softly, a quiet chuckle following.
"Really?" Lilith tilted her head slightly, a small smile playing at her lips. "I could dye it," she said before she could stop herself.
Her own words surprised her. Her hair was the only thing she truly liked about her appearance—her quiet source of pride. And yet, the thought of changing it for Valentina didn't sound so impossible, though, of course, after plenty of sobbing.
"Why would you?" Valentina asked, frowning lightly as she opened a drawer to pull out the hair dryer.
"I don't know," Lilith murmured. "The girl who does my hair always bleaches it a little differently. Sometimes it's warmer, sometimes colder." She shrugged, pretending to sound casual, but there was something weird in her voice—something that made Valentina glance at her reflection in the mirror.
"I love them," Valentina said simply, catching Lilith's gaze in the glass.
The words landed heavier than Lilith expected. And before she could say anything, Valentina turned on the dryer, its warm hum filling the air, swallowing the moment whole.
Twenty minutes later, Lilith's hair was dry, soft, silky under Valentina's fingers. Lilith felt grateful—both for the care and for the small mercy of not having to lift her aching wrist to do it herself.
They were finally ready to go downstairs.
Lilith's mind was still half stuck on the bathtub.
"Sorry for taking so long," she said with a soft laugh, pointing awkwardly towards Valentina's now covered collarbones.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I take my time too," Valentina replied, her tone calm and unhurried as she turned towards the stairs.
Lilith froze for half a second, eyes widening slightly.
Obviously, the words were very sexual, and on another day, Lilith might have let her imagination wander.
But not now.
She wanted Valentina to take her time with her.
She wanted some time with Valentina.
Downstairs, the trio welcomed them with the kind of warmth that made everything feel instantly alive again. Rhys immediately reached for both of them, one arm on each of their backs, grinning as he said, "Let's get some wine, ladies."
Lilith smiled.
It was hard not to feel at ease around him—Rhys had that kind of charm that softened a room before he even said a word.
Chiara was the same—bright, warm, a bit too observant in a way that made Lilith feel seen.
Amber, however, now made her feel a bit intimidated. She wasn't sure why—she had seen the woman a few times—but at this point in her relationship with Valentina, she felt like the red haired woman knew everything.
In the kitchen, Rhys poured wine into two glasses—one for himself, one for Lilith. Valentina joined a moment later, her movements effortless as she reached for another glass—but only for herself—and filled it with red wine.
Rhys stood close beside Lilith, showing her his hands like a child proud of a minor disaster.
"Cute, right?" he said, holding up his knuckles and fingers, all wrapped in bandages covered with small pink hearts—the same ones they had bought together at the pharmacy.
Even his wrist bore a new tattoo—fresh, still red around the edges.
Lilith laughed softly, her smile easy and genuine.
Valentina's eyes drifted towards the sight, a faint furrow forming on her brows, though she said nothing.
Rhys started talking to Valentina, something teasing but harmless, and Lilith quietly took the chance to slip away, leaving them alone. She wandered towards the living room.
Back in the kitchen, Rhys leaned against the counter. "So—how was the date?" he asked, his voice lighter now, genuinely curious beneath the teasing.
Valentina smiled—slowly, indulgently. "Really great."
Her green eyes dropped to his hands again.
Rhys followed her gaze, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face, but before he could say anything, Valentina reached for him. Her manicured fingers wrapped around his hand so delicately it almost seemed affectionate, leaving Rhys confused.
Why would she be touching his hand now?
And then, suddenly, she tugged.
Sharp. Fast. The sound of adhesive tearing.
"Are you fucking crazy, Valentina?" Rhys hissed, jerking his hand back as pain flared through his knuckles. The bandage was gone, the wound open, raw again.
Valentina glanced down, her expression unbothered, voice smooth as silk. "Those don't really suit you."
She reached for her wine glass without another word, her tone so calm it bordered on cruel, and left the kitchen.
?
The evening went smoothly enough, laughter and conversation filling the penthouse, but Lilith couldn't shake the feeling that tethered her thoughts to Valentina.
She wanted to be closer. Just a little closer. To catch her gaze more often than she already had, maybe brush her hand against hers, even for a second. The longing left a bitter tension in her chest.
They ate cake. They joked. Shared stories that seemed light but carried their own weight. Lilith smiled when she could, but every moment her mind circled back to Valentina—the tilt of her head, the curve of her lips, the quiet way she carried herself even among friends.
Now they sat around the table. The lights were dimmed, soft and golden, music echoing faintly across the penthouse.
"You shouldn't laugh. I still remember yours and Valentina's performance at the strip club," Amber said suddenly, winking at both of them after Rhys had shared something embarrassing about her.
Performance?
At a strip club?
Lilith thought, her curiosity pricking, even as Chiara's voice interrupted, sharp with offense. "What performance? Why don't I know about this?"
Chiara leaned forward, ready to demand an answer, while Rhys protested lightly. Valentina sipped her wine slowly, her green eyes glancing over the glass at Amber, quiet, amused.
Amber shrugged. "We went to a strip club once. A stripper made them get on stage." Her tone was breezy, almost dismissive. "You guys looked pathetic."
"Oh, come on—it was like five years ago," Rhys whined.
Lilith heard Valentina chuckle softly, the sound even now carrying that same confidence she always radiated.
"Five years ago, you had money thrown on you," the woman added, almost like a casual footnote to the memory.
"Let me just find the photo of you on that pole," Rhys said quickly, catching himself before he laughed too hard.
"Pole?" Chiara widened her eyes again, and Lilith's stomach sank.
It should have been funny. It should have been lighthearted. And to everyone else, it probably was. Watching grown people bite and tease each other over old stories, it was harmless.
But Lilith couldn't stop herself.
Jealousy prickled sharp under her skin.
Did Valentina come to clubs like that often when she was younger?
Did she like that kind of thing—confident, half naked women, throwing themselves onto people without shame?
The thought made Lilith's stomach twist.
And the way Valentina spoke of it now, so casual, so unashamed—so herself—made Lilith feel small, bitter, almost sick.
Was it wrong to feel disgusted with herself?
Especially knowing that hours ago, she had kissed Valentina. Just like many others had probably done before her. And she had known, deep down, that she wasn't the best.
That others were... better.
Her fingers tightened around the glass of wine, the cool weight grounding her just enough to stop from doing something impulsive.
And yet, the more desperate she had been tonight for a fleeting glance from Valentina, for even the smallest acknowledgment of her presence, the more she now realized something cruel.
She didn't need it anymore.
She didn't try to search Valentina's eyes.
Even as they sat close, the unspoken space between them heavy, Lilith let herself remain trapped inside her own mind.
?
The night had stretched so long it was beginning to feel like early morning. In just an hour, the first hints of sunrise would spill across the city.
It was time for everyone to go.
Valentina, Amber, and Chiara moved to the kitchen, finishing their conversation in soft tones. Meanwhile, Lilith and Rhys had quietly decided that some harmless trouble—a fake fight—was the perfect way to close the evening.
Lilith had ended up on the floor, whining theatrically as the tall, heavy man hovered over her.
She demanded him to get off her, though the laughter in her voice betrayed the fun she was having.
Rhys couldn't stop laughing. "You're ridiculous," he said, though he let her roll out from under him.
When Lilith finally pushed herself to her feet, she launched a playful attack, catching him off guard. They stumbled together, knocking over shoes scattered by the door, some of Valentina's designer bags tipping to the floor.
They froze for a second, wide eyed, realizing the mess around them.
Then, the three women appeared in the doorway, taking in the chaos.
Valentina stood there, arms crossed, her usual calm replaced by something sterner, sharper. She looked down at them, and for a second, Lilith felt like a little girl caught doing something she shouldn't.
"Oops... did we do that?" Lilith said, laughing, her voice teasing and light, glancing around at the mess.
Rhys, of course, grinned even wider, clearly enjoying the moment.
"Get off her," Valentina said simply.
Both Lilith and Rhys scrambled upright.
Lilith pouted, cheeks flushing slightly. She shot Valentina a playful glare, as if to say she ruined all the fun.
?
Soft light crept around the edges of the blinds, signaling the approach of sunrise.
Valentina and Lilith lay in the bed together, the room quiet except for the occasional brush of movement.
Lilith's back was turned to Valentina, shoulders relaxed, arms resting loosely across her body.
Valentina lay slightly above her, propped on an elbow, a subtle shadow hovering over Lilith, watching her with that calm intensity that made the blonde's chest tighten.
Lilith wasn't thinking about anything in particular. She allowed herself to sink into the simple sensations: Valentina's nails, not too long, moving lightly over her covered arm and shoulder, the way her fingers occasionally caught strands of her hair. It was peaceful.
Until Valentina whispered, soft and deliberate.
"Do you always mean the things you say?"
Lilith's eyes opened slowly, focusing on nothing in particular as Valentina's fingers continued their quiet movements across her arm.
"What do you mean?" she murmured, unsure where this was going.
"Sometimes," Valentina said thoughtfully, "I feel like each time I see you, it's a different version of you."
The statement didn't surprise Lilith. She had always been aware of it herself—different moods, different reactions, subtle shifts she couldn't fully control. What unsettled her was how much Valentina had thought about it.
"Not that it's wrong," Valentina added after a moment, "it just makes me wonder."
Lilith's voice was soft, hesitant. "I'm trying."
She meant it. In most parts of her life, she could be careless, indifferent, unaware. But when it came to Valentina... she changed herself in ways most wouldn't see, shaped herself according to how she imagined Valentina wanted her to be.
"I know you do," Valentina coaxed, but the words didn't fully comfort Lilith.
Silence settled over them, heavy but gentle, until Valentina's hand paused completely, stilling on her arm.
"I want to understand you," Valentina said finally, almost like a confession, her voice lower than before.
Maybe it was her real birthday wish, in a way—if magic were possible, she would slip inside Lilith's mind and hear every thought, every fleeting desire.
She might have wanted to command Lilith to tell her everything, to spill every single thought she had.
"You won't," Lilith said softly, casually, almost like it was nothing at all. To make it even lighter, she added, "But it's okay."
"Is it?" Valentina's voice was immediate, insistent.
"Not really," Lilith admitted, shrugging slightly, feeling the weight of Valentina's hand still resting lightly on her arm. "But I never expected it."
"Expect it from me," Valentina said seriously. Her tone was commanding, edged with a quiet desperation Lilith hadn't heard before.
Lilith couldn't help it. A small chuckle escaped her. "You're silly."
Because, truly, the dark haired woman was foolish for saying such words, for thinking that one day her wish could be accomplished.