Mia's POV.
Oxford had its shadows. I was one of them. It was time to act—Felicity was going down.
From my corner in the library I stared at the picture glowing on my phone. The one I'd snapped of Felicity's window. Blurry, faces unclear, details lost to the night. It was blurry. Faces unclear, details lost in the night. It didn't matter. The closeness was obvious. The outline told the story I wanted: Felicity in someone's arms. That was all people needed.
"Rumors don't need proof," I murmured, smiling. "They just need fuel. A spark. And I know how to light one."
I was about to set the whole place on fire. My fingers flew across the screen. I dropped the image into inboxes, group chats, and whisper threads. By nightfall, the corridors would buzz. By morning, Felicity Paddington wouldn't know who to trust. And the best part? This was only the beginning.
>>>>>
Alex's POV.
I was walking across the quad when my phone buzzed. I glanced down—Mia. Normally, I ignored her games, but this time she had bait I couldn't look away from. But the photo she sent stopped me cold.
Felicity — in Christopher's arms, his jacket over her shoulders, their faces too close. My stomach dropped and my grip on the phone went white. The image burned into me. I knew instantly—it was Chris in the picture.
Mia's message came next: "So this is the girl you're fighting for? She already chose him. Team up with me again and you'll have your chance — this is war, Alex."
The air rushed out of my lungs in a sharp hiss. My vision flared red, and I nearly crushed my phone in my grip. Christopher. Always Christopher.
I shoved my phone into my pocket and stormed off. Tomorrow, I'd head straight to the Oxford English department. If Mia wanted chaos, fine. She had it.
>>>>>
Felicity's POV.
Morning came with snow falling soft outside. I woke in Christopher's arms, my head on his shoulder, my cheek against his warmth. My arm held onto him tight, as if I belonged there. For a breathless moment, the world was only this—him, me, safe, and ours.
He shifted, his voice low. "Morning, Paddington."
I smiled before I could stop myself. "Morning, troublemaker."
Am I a troublemaker?" he teased, fingers brushing my stomach.
"Stop—stop, that tickles!" I laughed, twisting away.
He only tickled me more, and I squealed, breathless with laughter. But he caught me, pulling me closer. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, low and warm, "Then I guess I'll never stop."
My breath hitched, laughter melting into something faster, deeper, as his nearness set my heart racing.
But peace never lasts. By the time we walked into the dining hall, I felt it—the stares, the whispers, the weight of eyes tracking me. Phones angled in our direction. Laughter muffled behind hands.
Penelope leaned closer, frowning. "What the heck…?
What's going on? Why is everyone staring?"
Christopher tensed beside me. His hand brushed mine, steady and protective, like a silent shield. "Ignore them," he said softly, though his voice carried steel.
But my heart dropped. I didn't need to ask. I knew that look. I knew that sound. Rumors. And in Oxford, rumors spread faster than snowflakes.
>>>>>
Chris's POV.
She tried to keep her head high, she tried to act like nothing was wrong but I saw the crack in her smile, the way her steps faltered. I wanted to grab every phone in that hall and smash them.
Instead, I leaned close and whispered, just for her, "Two weeks. Remember? Just you and me. Nothing else matters."
Her eyes flicked up to mine, watery but steady. In that moment, I promised myself that nothing—Mia, Alex, the whole world—could break us.
But when we sat down, Penelope pulled out her phone. A new message lit up her screen. And there it was—Felicity with another guy.
"What the heck! This is unbelievable!" Penelope gasped.
"What is it? Let me see," I said, leaning over.
We both stared at the picture.
"What?!" we chorused at the same time.
Voices rose around us. "How could you? So you just moved on to somebody else?"
"Wait—who is that, there's someone else? Wow, I thought it was only Alex and Christopher pursuing her!" another voice said.
"Felicity's jumping from boy to boy, she's not serious with anyone."
"She's probably a baby mama already. Figures."
"Enough!" My voice cut through the noise, sharp and furious. "Who even took this picture? Seriously—who? Let's clear this up right now. It's not some random guy in that photo—it's me. Me. But of course, you people would rather spread rumors than bother with the truth. Gossip is like your full-time job."
Felicity stood up, fists clenched, and furious, heat flooded my face. "I can't take this anymore. Who spread these lies? Whoever sent this—stop. This is my life, not your entertainment. What the heck is going on? Oh, I know who did this—and I'm confronting her."
Felicity marched straight up to Mia and slapped her across the face.
The crowd gasped. Phones shot up instantly—everyone recording, whispering, hungry for drama.
Mia's head snapped to the side, and when she turned back, she was fuming. "What the heck, Felicity?! Did I hit a nerve?" she yelped, clutching her cheek. "In front of everyone? Wow. Guess the rumors were right—you really are a mess."
"How dare you! No, seriously—how dare you? I've had enough of your nonsense. I know you sent that picture to everyone's phone. How could you stoop so low?" Felicity snapped.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Murmurs spread. Someone whispered, "I knew it!" Another laughed, "This is wild." Someone else muttered, "This is better than Netflix."
"It wasn't me. And even if it was—so what?" Mia shot back.
"Oh, stop the act! I know it was you. What have I ever done to you? Why are you so obsessed with me? What's so important that you keep digging into my life? Is it Chris? Is that it? He's not yours, Mia. He'll never be yours. Just stop. Just stop already!"
The crowd hissed, eating up every word. Phones zoomed closer. Penelope shoved through the front row, fists clenched.
Mia only smiled wider, her voice cutting like silk. "Oh, Felicity… sweet, stupid Felicity. You really don't get it, do you? This isn't about Chris. This is about you. And I'm not stopping until I've taken everything. You walk around like you're untouchable, like people actually want you here. But me? I'm going to tear that little fairytale apart—piece by piece. And the best part?" She leaned closer, her words slow, venom dripping. "Everyone will watch it happen."
The hall went dead silent—except for the sound of a hundred phones recording.
Felicity's eyes burned. "You are seriously crazy. But you're not pointing at me—you're pointing at yourself. Oh my goodness, Mia. You've been following me since day one—digging, lying, spreading your garbage. You know what that makes you?" Her voice sharpened, steady as steel. "Pathetic."
Gasps. Whispers. Someone muttered, "Oh, she went there."
Felicity stepped closer, her voice steady, sharp enough to cut. "You want to ruin me? Go ahead. But here's the truth—you're obsessed. Obsessed with my life, my friends, my happiness. You can send a thousand pictures, twist every story, and you'll still be the same sad, bitter little bitch nobody actually trusts."
The crowd stirred, a few even nodding. Phones zoomed in tighter. Mia's smile faltered—just for a second.
Felicity didn't stop. "So spread your rumors, Mia. Keep trying to break me. But remember this—every time you say my name, every time you chase me…" She leaned in, eyes blazing. "I win."
The hall froze. A ripple tore through the crowd—some clapping, others laughing in disbelief. And just as the tension reached its breaking point, My voice cracked through like thunder, hard and sharp.
"That's enough."
The students parted as I strode forward, eyes locked on Mia, fury simmering in every step. I stopped at Felicity's side, sliding her gently behind him even though she stood tall and unshaken.
My glare didn't waver. "You want to spread lies? Fine. But you don't lay a hand on her. Not again. Not ever."
Silence swallowed the hall. The only sound left was the relentless click of phones, capturing every second.
Suddenly, Alex shoved through the crowd and swung. His fist connected with my jaw, sending a shock of pain down my neck.
"Stay out of Felicity's life!" Alex roared. His voice cracked with rage. "She's not yours—she'll never be yours. She's mine."
I staggered back, breathless, fury surging hot in my chest. "What the heck, Alex? How dare you punch me? You've got a death wish? Felicity isn't some prize or object you own, mate. She's not yours. She'll never be yours, get that through your head."
Before Alex could spit another word, Felicity's voice cut through, sharp and shaking. "Enough! You know what, I don't like drama, but somehow I've become the drama myself. And I'm done. Alex, Chris, both of you, I'm done and I'm tired. Just tired." Her hands trembled as she backed away, eyes blazing. "So take your fights, your egos, your nonsense—and shove it in your face. This is humiliating. Because I'm out."
The hall fell silent as Felicity spun on her sneaker. Penelope was already at her side, dragging her through the stunned crowd. And just like that, the storm left with them.
That night, I couldn't rest. My mind spun in circles, but one thought cut through the chaos—I wasn't giving up on Felicity. She didn't mean it, not truly. So I made my plan. Step one: the road trip✓. Step two: a long walk through Oxford's hidden streets, laughter chasing away the shadows. Two weeks. That's all I had. Two weeks to make her forget the storm. Two weeks to show her love could be safe. Two weeks to make her mine.