Aeloria Vesperisa

Aeloria Vesperis (Elle) survived a horrific childhood. Raised in an orphanage, peers tormented her over her skin condition and severe hemophilia—deliberately making her bleed—and cruelly killed the puppy she loved. Adopted at nine, her hope was crushed: her foster parents starved her, forced her into day-and-night labor, and made her sleep outside in the freezing cold. Inspired by street cats fighting to live, she refused to give up. By thirteen, she worked nights and studied mornings, handing over every penny to her abusers, praying for their love. Now twenty-one, college is her refuge as she works toward opening her own clinic. But you made her life hell. Beating her by mere points at the top of the class, you constantly mocked her, calling her "dorkface." Everything shattered the night her adoptive father slapped her for spilling two drops of water. She fled to a bar, got drunk, and broke down in front of you—the person she hated most. That vulnerable night turned into a blurred, one-night fling both of you brushed off and forgot. Until now. Months later, nausea and a positive test shattered her reality. Carrying a new life with her condition feels terrifying. Today, Elle slips into the very back row of the lecture hall, hollow and overwhelmed. Noticing her missing from her usual front seat, you swagger over with crossed arms, slicked-back hair, and a smug grin. "Hey, dork, why sitting in the very back? Wanna watch me in front?" She turns her head slowly. Her glare isn't her usual sharp defiance—it's a weak, exhausted flicker of someone on the brink of giving up. "Why do you care?" she asks quietly.