Deadly desires: the Donna's obsession.

Scarlett sat there for a while, the faint smell of cigarette smoke still lingering in the air.

Her hand trembled slightly as she picked the burnt up pieces, watching the ashes scattered to the ground like forgotten memories.

The sunlight seemed extra cruel today, too bright, too warm, as if mocking the chill that had settled deep in her chest.

Her mother's face flashed in her mind again, the blood, the emptiness in her eyes. Her own screams echoing in a room no one came to.

She clenched her jaw, forcing her emotions back into the steel box where they belonged. A single tear betrayed her resolve, slipping down her cheek.

Weakness.

She wiped it away roughly, her nails scratching her skin as if punishing herself for feeling anything at all. Her breathing hitched for a moment, her shoulders shaking before she exhaled sharply, pulling herself together.

"Abandoned. Rejected. Unloved," she whispered bitterly, the words tasting like poison on her tongue. She had been all those things, tossed aside by the world. Every time she let herself trust, let herself feel, she had been left to pick up the pieces alone.

She crushed the ashes under her heel, the harsh scrape of rubber against concrete grounding her.

Memories weren't going to break her. Not again.

Not when she had so much to take.

Her mind suddenly shifted, back to Killian.

He had walked away from her as if she were nothing, touching other girls as if she didn't exist, as if she hadn't already claimed him in her mind. The audacity.

He wasn't just a boy. He was a symbol, a challenge, a reminder that no matter how high she climbed, there were still people who thought they could ignore her, dismiss her.

Her jaw clenched, the cigarette box crumpling between her fingers as her resolve hardened. If no one else would ever love her, she'd make them. Starting with him.

And if she had to break him to make it happen, so be it.

As if having made up her mind, she stood up abruptly, her heels clicking sharply against the ground as she strode back toward the class.

The rage simmering inside her was no longer contained, her possessiveness and need for control bubbling over. Her mind was no longer clouded by grief or anger, it was focused, razor sharp focus.

As she reached the classroom door, she didn't hesitate.

She shoved it open, her presence commanding immediate attention.

The teacher paused mid-sentence, and every pair of eyes turned to her.

Killian's gaze locked onto hers, and for a split second, something flickered in his expression, confusion, annoyance, curiosity. He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn't give him the chance.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she marched straight to him, her piercing gaze never wavering.

"Scarlett..." he began.

But before he could finish, she grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanked him forward, and crushed her lips against his.

The room gasped collectively.

The teacher dropped his marker, frozen in stunned silence as she kissed Killian with an intensity that bordered on aggression.

Killian's hands shot up to her shoulders, attempting to push her off, but her grip was like steel. Her nails dug into the fabric of his shirt, refusing to let go.

Her lips moved against his, hot and demanding, and for a brief moment, his body froze entirely, unsure how to react.

The students around them stared in wide-eyed disbelief, some murmuring in shock, others too stunned to speak.

And just as suddenly as it began, Scarlett pulled back, her breath coming in sharp bursts as she looked down at him.

The entire class seemed to hold its breath.

"I like you," she declared simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Killian stared at her, his expression a mix of disbelief and fury.

"What did you just say? What the fuck was that?" he growled loudly.

Scarlett tilted her head. "Wasn't it obvious , it's a declaration."

He immediately pushed her hands away from his shirt. "What do you mean it was a declaration, are you insane?"

"Probably," she shrugged.

Her calmness, her audacity, it was infuriating.

"You can't just..."

"I can," she interrupted, leaning in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And I will. You're mine now, Killian Black. Get used to it."

With that, she turned on her heel, her expression returning to its usual cold detachment as she walked out of the room.

The class remained silent, the tension hanging thick in the air as the teacher cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to regain control.

Killian sat frozen for a moment, his mind reeling.

The hell just happened?

His mind spinned in a haze of disbelief and fury. The lingering taste of Scarlett's kiss burned on his lips, not with sweetness but with a searing possessiveness that sent a chill down his spine.

His jaw clenched as the whispers started to spread like wildfire.

"Did she just...?"

"Right in front of everyone!"

"What the hell is going on?"

The teacher cleared his throat again, louder this time, visibly uncomfortable. "Alright, settle down. Back to...back to the text."

The classroom barely obeyed, the collective tension making it impossible for anyone to focus.

Killian's fists tightened, his knuckles white as he stared down at the desk.

She's crazy. Absolutely insane.

He tried to piece it together.

Why would she do this?

Why him?

Why now?

The audacity of it—the sheer nerve—made his blood boil.

But a part of him...a small, buried part of him...was somewhat intrigued.

"Killian," Aria's voice suddenly broke through his storming thoughts.

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers. She sat on the edge of his desk, her expression a mix of annoyance and concern.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded, her voice laced with accusation.

"I have no idea," Killian ran a hand through his hair. "She's crazy. That's all there is to it."

Aria narrowed her eyes. "Crazy? She just claimed you like some...trophy. Are you going to let her get away with that?"

Killian's jaw tightened. "What do you expect me to do? Make a scene?"

"You're already in one," she snapped, gesturing to the room full of gawking students. "Fix it, Killian."

He sighed, shoving his chair back as he stood, his towering figure silencing some of the whispers.

"I'll handle it," he said, his voice cold, and without another glance at Aria, he walked out of the classroom.

---

Scarlett's heels echoed through the hallway as she walked, her pace deliberately slow.

The adrenaline from the kiss still pulsed through her veins, her lips curling into a faint smirk as she replayed Killian's stunned expression.

He hadn't pushed her away immediately. That counted for something, right?

Her fingers grazed her lips, the memory of the kiss lingering.

But her smirk instantly faded and stopped.

What the hell are you doing, Scarlett?

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.

You're not supposed to feel like this.

You're not supposed to want anything.

Her mind played the broken promise she'd made to herself.

To never let anyone in again. To never be vulnerable.

She stopped near the lockers, leaning against the cold metal as her breathing evened out.

But this wasn't letting him in, right?

It was claiming what was hers, besides it was also part of the mission.

That's right, the mission!

It was all for the mission.

"Scarlett."

A voice suddenly called from behind her, filled with barely restrained anger.

She turned slowly, her gaze meeting Killian's.

"Well, that was fast."

"What the fuck was that in there?" he demanded, his tone sharp enough to cut steel.

"Like I said earlier, it's a declaration," she said simply, crossing her arms.

"A declaration of what? That you've lost your goddamn mind?"

She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing slightly. "No, Black. A declaration that you're mine."

He scoffed. "Yours? You've got some nerve saying that when I barely even know you."

"And you've got some denial," she immediately shot back. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think no one's watching. Don't pretend you're not curious."

Killian's jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it.

He couldn't.

Of course he looked at her, he was thinking about ways to kill her.

Wondering about why his father called her a forest fire.

"Curious doesn't mean interested," he finally said coldly.

Scarlett tilted her head, her smirk returning. "Don't worry you'll be interested. It's only a matter of time."

"I don't want to be interested! I don't know what game you think you're playing, but I'm not a pawn in it," he pointed a finger at her, his eyes stormy.

Scarlett stepped even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're right, Black. You're not a pawn. You're the goddamn prize."

For a moment, their gazes locked, the air between them heavy with tension.

Then Killian stepped back, his lips curling into a bitter smirk.

"You're playing with fire, Scarlett."

"Good. I like the heat."

He shook his head, turning on his heel and walking away without another word.

Scarlett watched him go, her smirk fading as her gaze lingered on his retreating figure.

He's going to be a challenge.

Good.

She thrived on challenges.

And she never lost.