Vivienne
We're barely five steps out of the lecture hall when I feel it.
The shift.
That little ripple in the air—the way people glance over, nudge each other, whisper behind half-covered phones.
And for once, it's not because of Damien.
I blink, slowing down.
"What?" I ask, adjusting the strap of my tote bag.
Damien's jaw ticks. His phone buzzes again. And again. And then again.
He doesn't check it.
I do.
Buzz.
Ava: VIV CHECK THE UNI CONFESSION PAGE RN.
Buzz.
Luca: Tell Damien to breathe before he punches someone.
My stomach flips as I open the app.
Top post. Pinned. Already blowing up.
📸 Ellesmere ConfessionsCONFESSION #3781"I'd die to be Vivienne Crestwood's hoodie. Girl fell asleep on Damien Ashford in today's lecture and looked like a literal angel. Are they dating?? Because if not, I call dibs on being next."[Attached photo: me. Curled against Damien. Asleep. His arm around me. His notes scribbled with my little hearts. Captioned: 'Campus royalty or campus couple?' 💅🖤]
5000+ likes1.2k comments and counting
I stare at the screen.
Then glance up.
And see it—half the campus is staring at me like I've just stepped out of a drama series. My picture's still up on someone's phone in the courtyard.
Damien's voice is tight. Low. "Give me your phone."
I turn it off.
"Don't," I say, smiling faintly as we keep walking. "It's fine."
"It's not."
"It's a good angle."
"Viv."
I giggle.
"What? They said I looked like an angel. I'll take it."
He doesn't respond.
He just wraps a protective arm around me, jaw still clenched.
And I?
I lean into his side like I always do.
Because let them look.
Let them guess.
Let them write confessions.
He's mine. Even if he doesn't know it yet.