Chloe and I sat quietly under the old elm tree. The bell hadn't rung yet, and students were still scattered across the lawn, but my brain was still stuck in the emotional swamp I'd dragged her through.
"I need caffeine," she muttered, tossing her empty flask into her bag and standing.
"I need… a new life," I sighed.
We laughed. And then—suddenly—the breeze shifted.
I swear, something changed in the air. It wasn't cold or weird. Just… off.
"Hey, uh… is this the right way to the main office?"
The voice was soft. Polite. Not shy, but gentle in that I've-been-raised-well kind of way.
We both turned at the same time.
There he was.
Tall. Clean-cut. Dark tousled hair like it had been shaped by ocean wind. Clear skin, navy blue button-up, black school bag slung over one shoulder. But what stood out most were his eyes—icy gray, pale like a storm that hadn't hit yet.
And when he smiled, the world sort of blinked for a second.
"Oh, new kid alert," Chloe whispered beside me.
He smiled again when he noticed our stares. "Sorry, I'm not trying to be weird. I'm Nathan. Just transferred. My aunt said the office was near the library, but… it's not."
I blinked. "Library's on the opposite side of campus."
"Oh," he said, sheepish, running a hand through his hair. "Perfect start."
"I'll show you," I offered before my brain could catch up.
He blinked, then smiled again. "That'd be awesome. Thanks."
As we walked side by side, Chloe trailing with a raised eyebrow, I glanced at him sideways.
"You moved mid-semester?"
"My last school… didn't really work out," he said, voice casual. "Needed a reset."
Something about the way he said reset made my stomach tighten.
But he was friendly. Sweet, even.
Too sweet.
"Do you know anyone here?" I asked.
"Nope. Total loner this week," he said with a grin. "Unless you count you two."
Chloe raised a brow. "Fast with the bonding, huh?"
He chuckled. "Just trying not to eat lunch in the janitor's closet."
I laughed despite myself. He's funny. Chill. Normal. Everything about him screamed "good guy." He wasn't trying too hard. He wasn't cocky. He wasn't awkward.
But there was something.
The tiniest flicker behind those gray eyes. Like there was more beneath the surface. But I shoved the thought away.
We dropped him at the office, and he turned back.
"Emma, right?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Thanks. For helping me not get lost and die in the halls."
I smirked. "Anytime."
As he walked in, Chloe turned to me, mouth open.
"I knew you were gonna offer to walk him."
"Oh shut up."
"I'm just saying… if Liam and Peter weren't enough emotional damage, let's just throw Nathan with the ocean eyes into the mix."
"He's just… nice."
"So was Ted Bundy," she said, then sipped from her invisible coffee. "Just saying."
---
Later That Day…
At lunch, Nathan found us again.
He asked politely if he could sit, and we said yes. He talked about having lived abroad, liking classic music (ugh, mysterious), being terrible at math, and never owning a pet because he was allergic to fur.
Everyone liked him. Boys, girls, even teachers.
And that made me like him less. Not because I didn't trust him—but because I didn't trust anyone that perfect.
Still, his smile was disarming. The way he asked how I was doing felt genuine. When I lied and said I was okay, he didn't dig deeper.
But his eyes stayed on mine for a second too long.
Like he knew.
---
In Another Place...
Far away from school grounds, in an abandoned garden shed behind the old library building—a place no one ever visits—a strange book lay open on the floor, glowing softly.
Words moved on the page in ancient ink.
And across the room, someone knelt in the dark. Eyes glowing pale gray. Calm. Focused.
Nathan.
His voice was low as he whispered, like he was reading from memory.
"She's awakened... but not fully. I'll stay close. She won't remember. Not yet. But when the time comes…"
His eyes flickered white.
"…she will bleed. And I'll be waiting."
The golden afternoon sunlight poured through the tall windows of Liam's house—my new home, at least for now. The walls still felt like strangers, and the corners whispered things I wasn't ready to hear. But it was safer than mine. That house… Amelia lived in it now—inside my head, my memories, my very skin. I couldn't breathe there anymore.
Here, I could at least pretend.
Liam had gone out for groceries. I was alone, curled on the couch in one of his oversized hoodies—okay, fine, it was his favorite, but it had my scent now too. A little victory.
The doorbell rang. I flinched. For a second, I wondered if it was her—Amelia—showing up with an echo and a grin.
But it wasn't.
It was Peter.
I opened the door, surprised. "Hey."
His eyes met mine, soft and tired. "Hey. Liam said you might need company today."
My throat tightened. "He called you?"
Peter shrugged, stepping inside. "He worries. And so do I."
He stood there awkwardly for a second, then walked past me, looking around. "Place is nice. Cozy for a literal mansion."
I laughed. "You expected Dracula's castle?"
"With Liam? Yes."
We sat together on the couch. Too close. Too far.
"Are you sleeping better?" he asked.
"Sometimes," I said. "Sometimes she whispers things before I close my eyes."
He looked down, fists clenching slightly. "You could've told me you were moving in here."
"I didn't want to worry you."
"Too late for that."
Silence.
Then… his hand found mine.
I froze.
"Emma," he said softly, "I miss you. Us."
My heart thudded painfully. "We were never really us, Peter."
"But we could be," he said, inching closer. "Tell me you don't feel it."
My eyes fluttered shut. His breath was warm on my cheek. His fingers gently brushed my hair behind my ear.
And when his forehead touched mine—
The butterflies didn't flutter.
They exploded.
I leaned in just slightly, as if a kiss would undo the curse around us.
But a door slammed downstairs.
Liam's voice echoed, "I brought snacks. Hope you still like sour cream chips, Em."
Peter pulled away quickly, cheeks flushed. I stood up too fast.
Liam appeared with a grocery bag in one hand, keys dangling from the other. He stopped when he saw Peter.
"Oh," he said lightly. "Didn't know we were having guests."
Peter smiled politely. "Just visiting. Didn't mean to intrude."
Liam set the bag down and walked toward us. "You never do." But something was tight in his jaw.
Peter stood. "I should probably go."
I followed him to the door.
As he paused before stepping out, his hand lingered on mine. "Think about what I said."
He left.
I stood at the door for a long minute, pulse still racing, emotions scattered like shattered glass.
Then I turned—and Liam was right behind me.
"How long was he here?"
"Not long."
"You okay?"
I nodded, lying through my teeth. "Yeah. Just confused."
Liam sighed and gently led me to the couch. "Sit down."
I did.
He sat close, almost too close. His hand grazed my knee and stayed there. "I don't want to be that guy, Em. But I saw the look in his eyes. I know what he wants."
I looked at him. "And you?"
He didn't answer at first. Then, slowly, he cupped my face in both hands.
His voice was low. "I want you safe. Happy. Whatever that looks like—even if it's with him."
My throat burned. "But last night…"
He smiled slightly. "Last night wasn't about possession. It was comfort. Real. You held on to me like I was the only light left."
I whispered, "You were."
Our faces were inches apart. Not romantic. Just raw. And true.
"I'm not asking you to choose," he said. "Not now. Not ever. But just… let me be there, okay?"
I nodded. Then leaned forward.
We didn't kiss.
We hugged. But that hug—God—it held everything: the fear, the ache, the silent promises.
---
Later That Night…
I stood at the window of Liam's room, hugging my knees. The moonlight cast pale ribbons across the floor.
I couldn't sleep. Again.
Too much—Peter's closeness, Liam's warmth, the way both of them made me feel like I belonged in different universes. And now… Nathan.
He'd messaged me earlier:
> Hope you're feeling better today. Let me know if you ever need someone to talk to.
P.S. I found the library. No janitor closets involved.
I smiled despite the storm in my chest.
Nathan was new. But… maybe we needed new.
Still, the voice of Amelia echoed faintly from the back of my head.
"Trust no one, Emma."
And I knew… the real storm hadn't even begun yet.
---