Elysium: Desired by the Cold-hearted Princess [GL]
Chapter 163 163: Out of Place

Seraphina's POV

As soon as I walked into the party, I realized I had made a colossal mistake. The music that played was almost deafening, vibrating through my chest and rattling my skull.

As if that wasn't already terrible enough, the air was filled with the horrid stench of cigarettes mixed with something else that I couldn't quite place. My throat itched, and every breath felt like I was inhaling a toxic cloud.

I pressed my lips together, struggling to keep my composure. My head was already starting to ache, and I hadn't even been here fifteen minutes.

This was exactly why I had avoided parties all my life. The noise, the chaos, the reckless abandon—it was overwhelming, and yet, here I was, pretending to be someone who belonged.

Around me, it was as if everyone had entered another dimension where none of these things bothered them.

Irina, standing casually beside me, had a cigarette between her fingers, blowing out smoke like she'd been doing it for years. Roxana was on the dance floor, her arms around some girl I didn't recognize, and their movements were suggestive, almost as if they were preparing each other for the other room.

I couldn't help but wonder if Roxana's so-called boyfriend outside of school was even real. Penelope, meanwhile, was across the room at a small table, engaged in a drinking contest. She was tossing back shots like water, laughing maniacally as the girls around her cheered her on.

And then there was me, standing stiffly, like an awkward outsider who had accidentally wandered in. I felt so out of place, like a fish out of water.

My mind raced as I tried to figure out what to do. If I stood here doing nothing, it would look weird—suspicious, even, but the idea of joining in on any of this madness made my stomach churn.

Irina turned to me then, her eyes narrowing as she took a drag from her cigarette. "You're awfully quiet, Seraphina," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "Not in your usual party spirit all of a sudden?"

I forced a smile, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just taking it all in."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. Before she could press further, Roxana appeared, her arm draped casually over my shoulder. Her skin was warm and slightly damp from dancing, and I wanted to throw her hand off, but I refrained myself.

"Is everything okay, Sera? Why do you look like you're about to bolt?" She asked with a grin. "Aren't you having fun? It's such a fun party, though, and there are so many girls you could have fun with."

"Yeah, it's such a fun party. I'm having the time of my life," I muttered, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

Roxana laughed, clearly finding my discomfort entertaining. "Come on, let's get you a drink. Maybe that'll loosen you up and remind you how to party."

I stiffened. "I'm good, thanks."

Roxana frowned, her grin fading slightly. "You're not going to make this a buzzkill night, are you?"

"No, of course not," I said quickly, forcing another smile. "I'm just pacing myself."

She didn't look entirely convinced, but before she could say anything else, Penelope stumbled over, a shot glass in hand and a triumphant smirk on her face.

"I won!" she announced, holding the glass up like a trophy. "Those girls didn't stand a chance."

"Great," I said, trying to muster some enthusiasm.

Penelope's smile faltered as she looked at me more closely. "What's wrong with you? You're not having fun?"

"I'm fine," I insisted. "Just… thinking."

"Thinking?" Penelope repeated, wrinkling her nose like the word itself was offensive. "You're at a party, Seraphina. You shouldn't be thinking; you should be drinking."

"I'll pass," I said firmly, crossing my arms over my chest.

Penelope and Roxana exchanged a look, and I could tell they were both wondering what was wrong with me.

"You're acting weird," Roxana said finally.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Irina cut in. "Leave her alone. Not everyone needs to get wasted to have a good time."

I shot her a grateful look, but she didn't meet my eyes. Instead, she took another drag from her cigarette, her expression unreadable.

***

The moment Irina, Roxie, and Penelope decided to go back to enjoying themselves, I was left standing awkwardly, feeling like the only sober person in a room full of intoxicated strangers.

I hated this feeling, this gnawing sense of being out of place.

I needed to do something, anything, other than standing around like a total loser.

My eyes darted around the room, searching for something to do. The dance floor was filled with girls grinding against each other in ways that made my cheeks flush. It was a level of boldness I wasn't prepared for, and I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to be fascinated by the cracks in the ceiling.

Finally, my eyes landed on the bar, and it seemed like the safest place to start. I took a deep breath and headed toward it, going through the crowd of girls who were laughing, shouting, and dancing with a confidence I envied.

Halfway there, a girl carrying a tray of drinks stepped into my path. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed a glass, desperate for something to take away my discomfort.

I didn't even stop to smell it, let alone question what it was. I just tilted my head back and gulped it down.

The liquid hit my throat like fire, burning all the way down to my stomach. I coughed, doubling over slightly as I fought the urge to spit it back out.

"What the hell?" I muttered to myself, my voice hoarse.

The bitter taste lingered, and I couldn't understand why anyone would willingly drink this stuff. People acted like alcohol was the key to a good time, but all it seemed to do was assault your taste buds and leave your throat feeling like you'd swallowed a lit match.

I set the empty glass down on a nearby table, grimacing. Maybe I'd just grabbed the wrong drink—something too strong for a first-timer like me.

Still, I wasn't ready to give up. If I wanted to fit in, I needed to at least try to enjoy myself. Maybe if I had another drink—something lighter—it would help me relax. Maybe then I'd stop feeling so out of place, so awkward.

I reached for another glass, this one with a bright pink liquid that looked far less intimidating. This time, I sipped it cautiously, letting the flavor linger on my tongue.

It was sweeter, but the alcohol was still there. I grimaced again but forced myself to swallow.

By the time I finished the glass, a strange warmth was spreading through my chest. It wasn't entirely unpleasant. My limbs felt lighter, and the pounding music didn't seem quite as overwhelming anymore.

Encouraged by the slight change, I grabbed another drink—a pale blue concoction with a tiny umbrella sticking out of it. It tasted fruity, almost like candy, and I found myself sipping it more eagerly.

The warmth in my chest grew, spreading to my head and making everything feel just a little bit hazy. The lights seemed brighter now, and the music was less intrusive. My awkwardness started to fade, replaced by a strange and fuzzy energy.

'So this is what it feels like,' I thought, a small, wry smile tugging at my lips.

After a while, I started to feel a strange heat inside me, and for a moment, I thought I might faint.

My skin felt like it was on fire—an unbearable, suffocating warmth that started in my chest and spread downward to my core in a way that made my knees weak.

I tried to brush it off, convincing myself it was the alcohol. I'd never had more than a sip of wine before tonight, and my body probably didn't know how to handle it.

I was just overheated, I told myself. Maybe dancing would help me burn off some of this nervous energy—or was it excess energy now?

But the heat wouldn't fade. It only intensified, sending shivers down my spine as if my body couldn't decide whether it was too hot or too cold.

The tingling started soon after, a strange sensation that coiled deep inside me, making me feel restless and jittery. I rubbed my arms, desperate for some relief, but the touch only heightened the sensation.

I needed something, anything, to make it stop.

My vision blurred, and I barely noticed the girl in front of me until she was just there, standing close enough that I could make out her silhouette in the haze.

Before I even realized what I was doing, my hands shot out, grabbing her face. My fingers felt like they were moving on their own, trembling slightly as they pressed against the softness of her cheeks.

And then my lips found hers.

It wasn't a thought; it wasn't a decision. It was pure instinct, a desperate need that I couldn't fight. My lips crashed against hers with a ferocity that surprised even me, moving hungrily as if kissing her was the only way to extinguish the fire raging inside me.

I didn't think about who she was, or what I was doing, or how insane it all must have seemed. All I knew was the moment—her lips, soft and slightly parted, responding for a heartbeat before everything shattered.

The girl shoved me away, her hands firm against my shoulders, and I stumbled back, nearly losing my balance.

It took a second—one long, torturous second—for my mind to catch up to what had just happened.

"Seraphina, what the hell?"

My vision wavered, the blur beginning to clear just enough for me to make out her face, and my heart stopped when I did.

It was Electra.