Sky Ren's POV
I sprinted back to the dorms like my life depended on it.
Okay, technically, I tripped up the stairs twice, spilled my iced matcha all over my jeans, and banged my shoulder into someone's elbow mid-corridor. But the important thing is: I made it. Alive. Breathless. Emotionally unstable. But alive.
"Ava! AVAAAA!"
I burst through our dorm room door like a tornado in a floral scented hoodie, startling my best friend into dropping her mascara wand.
"Sky, you—what the—why are you crying? What happened?! Did someone—"
"KAIIIIIIIIIII."
She froze. "Oh God. Did he kill you with words again?"
"NO! He SPOKE. Like…like spoke-spoke. Like he used a full sentence with emotions and empathy and—and EYE CONTACT."
Ava blinked. "He...what?"
"AND—" I jumped onto my bed, nearly knocking over our shared plant, "—he said I don't talk too much. And I don't need to change. And then—and THEN—he said I'm not like them."
A beat of silence.
"…Okay. Start from the beginning," Ava said, calmly shutting her laptop like she was preparing for war. "Because you're doing that thing again where your brain is on fast-forward and I'm three scenes behind."
I sat cross-legged, braid flying, eyes wide. "Okay so I was sad, right? Because people said I'm too much—y'know, like glitter bombed a personality test or something—and I tried to dial it down today. No bows. No lashes. No heels. Just me. Plain. Sad. Undone-Sky."
"And he noticed?"
"HE NOTICED." I nearly shrieked. "He called me quiet. And then—wait for it—he SAID 'you don't need to change.' Like he was mad that I did."
Ava stared. "Kai Ashford. Mr. Death Glare. Said that?"
I nodded violently.
"And THEN—" I clutched a pillow to my chest like it could contain the volcano of butterflies inside me, "—he said You're not like them. Dead serious. Face like thunder. Voice like a threat. And Ava—I fell in love. Right then and there. That was it. I'm done. I'm ruined. I need to marry him and have his terrifying little mafia law babies."
Ava choked. "WHAT—"
"I mean it!" I flopped back dramatically. "I want to sit on his lap and draft legal contracts. I want to organize his closet. I want to braid his hair if he ever grows it long. I want to hold his terrifying hand and never let go."
"You've lost your mind," she said, laughing but concerned.
"He told me not to shut up, Ava. You don't understand. That's like the equivalent of a Disney prince serenade. It's like he lifted my chin and kissed my soul."
A beat of silence.
Then Ava raised a brow. "You're obsessed."
"I KNOW."
She sighed, already reaching for snacks and curling up beside me. "Okay, tell me everything again. Slowly this time. And do not leave out a single eyebrow twitch."
I beamed. "Deal."
And just like that, I was back to being myself—messy, loud, overflowing.
Because for the first time in forever…
Someone liked me that way.