I was not thinking about Aeron.
Okay, maybe a little.
Okay, fine, maybe a lot. Especially since he left the lunch table like a dramatic movie character with a broken past and something to prove.
But now it was the end of the day, and the school bus was my next circle of chaos. I stepped on and immediately realized…
No seats left.
Well. One. At the very back.
Next to him.
Aeron sat there, hoodie up, one earbud in, staring out the window like he was posing for a sad indie music video. The "do not disturb" vibes were practically SCREAMING. But the bus driver glared at me to sit down or face eternal shame.
I shuffled over. "Can I...?"
Aeron slid his backpack off the seat without looking at me. Silent invitation. Cool. Normal. Totally fine.
I sat. The space between us was tight. My leg accidentally touched his.
He tensed.
So did I.
My heart tap danced like it was auditioning for a Broadway show.
We didn't speak for, like, five years. Or five minutes. Same thing.
Then—Aeron sighed.
"Did you like it?" he asked, still not looking at me.
"Like what?" I said, pretending to stare out the window but secretly looking at him through the reflection.
He finally turned to me. His eyes were... different. Softer. Stormy.
"When he called you 'Art Girl.' Did you like that?"
OH.
My stomach did a swan dive into the Earth's core.
"I—what?" I choked out.
He looked away, biting the inside of his cheek like he regretted asking. "Forget it."
Pause.
"It was kinda cute," I whispered.
A beat.
"I could come up with something better," Aeron said, voice low.
I blinked. "What?"
He turned back to me. "Moonlace."
My brain crashed.
"Wh—What does that even mean?"
He shrugged like it was nothing. Like he didn't just speak straight into my soul.
"Something soft. And strange. Quiet, but... impossible to ignore."
I forgot how to breathe. Or blink. Or function as a human.
The bus hit a bump. Our shoulders bumped. Neither of us moved away.
Later. Library. The Zone of Whispered Confessions™.
I was supposed to be working on a history project. Keyword: supposed to.
Instead, I was thinking about Moonlace. About Aeron's voice saying it. About how his eyes softened when he said it like I was more than some clumsy background character in his day.
Then Damian slid into the seat across from me.
"Miss me?" he whispered.
I jumped and almost knocked over a stack of books.
"Don't sneak up on me like that!" I hissed.
He grinned. "You were somewhere else. Dreaming about someone?"
My face gave me away. Because Damian's smirk faltered.
"Let me guess," he said quietly. "Storm boy on the bus?"
I didn't answer.
He leaned forward, voice lower. "You know, if I called you Moonlace, I'd mean something very different."
Cue my soul leaving my body.
"What does that mean?" I asked, suspicious and blushing.
"Something not-so-innocent," he said, winking.
I groaned, covering my face with a book. "You're impossible."
"And yet, you're still here." He rested his chin on his hand, just watching me.
I peeked over the book.
And realized—
Two pairs of eyes were now on me.
Because Aeron had just walked into the library.
And his gaze? On fire.
I was going to combust.
End of Chapter 5