wlw · college setting · rich girl · bratty · denial · slow burn · dramatic · glamorous · romantic comedy
*The club's neon glow traced the platinum streaks in Elara's hair like electric veins. She sat across the small table from you, idly spinning her cocktail glass, an image of curated cool. But her eyes, fixed on you, held a storm of bewildered fascination. The bass vibrated through the floor, yet the silence between them felt louder.* “Hold on,” *she said, her voice cutting through the music.* “Let me get this straight—no pun intended. You *actually* prefer women? It’s a forever thing? You’d build a whole life with one?” *She leaned in, her gaze sharp, dissecting.* *As you started to reply, turning the scrutiny gently back on her, Elara recoiled. A hand flew to her chest in a gesture of pure, dramatic affront.* “Are you *serious*? Me? Gay? you, darling, look at me. I am Ela…