Chapter 68: Chapter Sixty Seven

Athena

Lysander Carmichael, the new transfer student, had quickly become Emerald Crest Academy’s latest heartthrob. The girls swooned over him, even comparing him to Eros—an observation that made me question their eyesight. Sure, Lysander was undeniably handsome, but Eros was in a league of his own, at least ten times more striking in my eyes.

With his jet-black curls and piercing blue eyes, Lysander had the girls sighing dreamily, but I was immune to his charms. It wasn’t even funny how unaffected I was. Even when I discovered that he was in my English literature class, sitting right next to me and flashing me a lopsided grin, my heart remained steadfast—no flutters, no skipped beats.

I supposed having a boyfriend—well, a fake boyfriend—made me feel like no one else existed.

That afternoon, Eros and I sat on a bench in the courtyard, speaking in hushed tones as groups of students enjoyed the crisp autumn air around us. The season was drawing to a close, with winter—and Christmas—just around the corner. 

I could hardly wait. For the first time, I wouldn’t be spending the holiday with the Sandersons. Instead, Eros had promised to take me to Greece, a place I’d never been before, but always longed to see.

As I looked up, I saw Lysander making his way toward us. Behind him, Scarlett stood next to Serena, who was speaking to her, but Scarlett wasn’t paying attention. Her gaze was locked on Eros and me, her expression unreadable.

"Athena, I’ve been meaning to talk to you," Lysander said, stopping in front of us. "I heard you’re a fan of classical literature. Maybe we could study together sometime?" His words were polite, but his deliberate disregard for Eros, who sat beside me, didn’t go unnoticed.

"Oh, that’s nice of you, Lysander, but Eros and I usually study together," I replied with a smile, casually placing my hand over Eros’s resting on the table.

For a brief second, Lysander’s gaze flicked to where our hands touched before his grin widened, unfazed. Leaning slightly closer, he rested his palms on the table.

"I see," he mused. "But wouldn’t it be refreshing to have a new perspective? Maybe get to know someone different?" His voice held a teasing edge.

Beside me, Eros tensed, his grip tightening around his book. I glanced at him and saw the sharp glare he directed at Lysander.

"She doesn’t need a different perspective," Eros said, his voice low and edged with warning.

Lysander chuckled as if Eros had just cracked a joke. "I’m sure Athena can decide that for herself," he countered smoothly.

I didn’t want any trouble, though it was clear Lysander was deliberately pushing Eros’s buttons. For what reason, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t understand why, but his attention was starting to make me uncomfortable. I didn't like it.

"Lysander, I appreciate the offer, but I—"

"Athena," he interrupted smoothly, his brow arching. "Don’t you think you deserve someone who isn’t afraid to openly care for you?"

The moment Eros shot to his feet, his jaw clenched tight, I knew Lysander had crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

"And you think you’re that person?" Eros asked, his voice deceptively calm, though his expression said otherwise.

Students nearby had begun murmuring, drawn to the growing tension. I glanced behind Lysander and caught sight of Scarlett, watching the scene with a smug smirk. My stomach twisted uneasily. Was Lysander working with her?

When I looked back at him, his face remained unreadable. Then, as if confirming my suspicions, a slow grin spread across his lips. The uneasy feeling deepened.

Lysander had been here for barely two weeks, and yet he acted like he knew me better than Eros did.

The nerve of him.

"I think Athena deserves to be cherished. And if you’re too much of a coward to admit how you feel—"

I gasped, stunned by his audacity. Fury surged through me and my body moved before I could think as I shot to my feet, ready to put Lysander in his place. But before I could speak, Eros beat me to it.

"I’m not a coward," he said, his voice steady but edged with irritation. "And I don’t owe you any fucking explanation. But I think I know what this is really about."

A tense silence settled over the courtyard as Eros let his words linger. Then, without another glance at Lysander, he turned and strode toward the small stage where a piano stood, left over from an earlier event. 

He sat down, his fingers hovering over the keys before pressing down, filling the courtyard with a raw, emotional melody.

I didn’t recognize the tune—it had to be an original piece. And as the hauntingly beautiful notes carried through the crisp autumn air, realization dawned. Eros had composed a song. For me.

My breath caught as his voice rose, strong and aching with emotion. The entire courtyard seemed to hold its breath.

"I tried to hide, keep my heart in chains,

But every time you look my way, it calls your name...

You are my light, my endless sky,

And I can't pretend anymore, I won’t even try..."

The crowd stood mesmerized. Even Scarlett’s smirk wavered, frustration replacing her usual smugness. I had been watching her, too. But Lysander—Lysander looked like he had just been hit by a revelation he never saw coming. 

He stood frozen, unable to believe that Eros had turned his taunts into a challenge—and then obliterated him with it.

As the final chords rang out, something inside me stirred. My feet carried me forward before I even realized what I was doing. And then, softly at first, my voice joined his as a slow smile tugged at my lips. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had written a song.

"I never knew what love could be,

Until you opened my heart and set it free...

Through every storm, through every fight,

I choose you, now and for all my life..."

The last note faded into the cool air, followed by a beat of stunned silence—then an eruption of cheers.

Eros stood, his eyes locking onto mine as he took my hand. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. He pulled me into his arms, and before I could even catch my breath, his lips were on mine.

My heart soared, my entire body melting into him. If he hadn’t been holding me so tightly, I was sure I would have collapsed.

"Take that, Scarlett Granville. I won."