The tug on his cloak was small, barely more than a pinch of fabric, but it stopped Soren cold.
One foot was halfway through a step when his body decided it wasn't going anywhere, sole planting itself back onto the stone with a quiet scrape as instinct took over, the corridor around him continuing like nothing had happened, students flowing past in both directions, conversations overlapping, laughter and footsteps and the occasional echo of someone calling a name, and yet that little pull at his back cut cleanly through all of it.
His head turned.
There, clutching the hem of his cloak like it was a lifeline, stood a girl with messy pink hair and eyes that looked like they were already spilling over, the kind of teary shine that came from crying too long rather than a single sharp moment.
"Lilly…?"
The name left him without thought.
Lilliana's head tilted up at the sound of his voice, lime-green eyes meeting his, and something in his chest tightened so abruptly it felt physical.
Her hair, usually neat and soft in a way that looked carefully maintained, was frayed and tangled now, strands sticking out where she had clearly run her hands through it again and again.
Her eyelids were swollen and red, the skin around them blotchy, and the way her shoulders trembled made it obvious she had been fighting herself for a while, losing more and more ground as the minutes passed.
She opened her mouth.
Only a thin, broken sound came out, half breath and half sob, as if her throat didn't remember how to form words anymore.
For a moment, the rest of the corridor faded, not literally, but in the way noise could become distant when something more important took centre stage, whispers and passing footsteps and curious stares dropping into the background until all that remained was the faint, desperate pull on his cloak and the girl in front of him holding on like letting go meant falling apart.
"Hey." His voice came out quiet, careful. "It's okay."
Her grip tightened.
The words didn't reach her straight away, or maybe they did and she didn't know what to do with them, fingers staying clamped around the cloth, knuckles pale, nails faintly pressing through layers of fabric as if she was afraid it would slip away.
He could see it in her eyes, panic that hadn't fully faded, confusion, guilt, emotions folding over each other so quickly she couldn't separate them, couldn't pick one to hold onto.
Soren lowered his voice further, not because the corridor was loud, but because anything louder felt like it might shatter her.
"Lilly, you're okay. Breathe."
It wasn't an order, just a reminder, something simple to cling to.
She sucked in a shaky breath, chest jerking unevenly, then another, air leaving her lips in small, ragged bursts as if even exhaling hurt.
"I…"
She swallowed, voice raw from crying.
"I'm sorry…"
Soren's head shook once.
"It's fine."
The apology twisted something inside him.
She didn't understand what had happened, not really, she couldn't, and seeing her like this, shaking and lost, haunted by the traces of that twisted week, made pointing out any of it feel pointless, like throwing facts at someone who was drowning.
He stepped closer, closing the gap so his cloak stopped stretching between them, and Lilliana's head bowed, forehead brushing lightly against his chest through the cloth, breathing hitching again as if her body had been holding itself upright only through spite until now.
"Did something happen?" he asked softly.
She shook her head.
Then nodded.
Then shook it again, a messy contradiction that made his throat tighten because it wasn't fake confusion, it was the kind that came from not knowing where reality started.
"I don't… I don't know," she whispered, voice cracking on the last word. "Everything felt wrong."
Soren exhaled slowly through his nose.
He wanted to tell her everything, wanted to say it wasn't her fault, wanted to put a name to it, give her something solid, but the truth came with proof, names, explanations, and consequences, and he didn't have the kind of proof that could be thrown around safely.
So he did what he could, which meant focusing on what was right in front of him.
"Let's go somewhere quieter."
He kept his tone calm on purpose.
Lilliana blinked, like she had only just remembered where they were.
The corridor was still crowded, the flow of students splitting around them like water around a rock, some slowing to stare openly, others pretending they weren't looking even as their eyes slid toward the two of them, and the murmurs were already starting, small ripples of sound spreading outward.
Her cheeks flushed a bright, mortified red.
"O-Oh—I—"
Panic rose fast, and she tried to pull her hands back, but her fingers caught on the fabric again before she managed to fully let go.
Soren let out a faint sigh, not annoyed, if anything he was relieved, because embarrassment meant she was still in there, still aware enough to care about how she looked.
"That's enough," he said quietly. "Let's go."
She nodded quickly, eyes dropping to the floor, refusing to meet any of the gazes around them.
When he turned and started walking, she followed half a step behind, hand sliding from the hem of his cloak to his sleeve instead, pinching the edge of the cloth lightly, grip smaller but no less desperate.
Soren glanced down at her fingers for a moment.
Holding his sleeve was not much less embarrassing than clutching his cloak, but he doubted she realised that right now, so he pretended not to notice and kept walking, pace steady enough that she could match it without stumbling.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
They ended up at a small café just off one of the main streets near the academy, tucked between other storefronts as if it was trying to stay out of the way, the same place Lilliana had taken him once before during summer break, back when it had felt like a quiet corner where the academy's noise couldn't reach.
Today it felt like the only place he could think of that wasn't soaked in the past week's memories.
Her dorm would have been the obvious choice, but with all the eyes on them lately, that was out of the question, and the clubroom was another option that should have felt safe, except Soren wasn't in the mood to risk running into anyone else while Lilliana was like this, not when one wrong glance could send her spiralling again.
So, here was where he ended up.
From the academy gates to the café entrance, she never let go of his sleeve.
Her footsteps stayed close behind his, barely half a pace away, as if putting any more distance between them would make her tumble backwards, and the realisation tightened his heart in a way he didn't like.
'She's really… shaken.'
He hadn't realised it would be this bad.
Lilliana was strong, caring, gentle, sometimes strict in a soft way, and she carried a steady, almost motherly aura that made people feel safe around her, the kind of person who smiled through exhaustion because others relied on her.
It had made him forget, even for a moment, how fragile she actually was.
Hadn't it only been a few months since she had broken down in front of him?
He felt stupid for letting himself forget that, then shoved the thought away because beating himself up wouldn't help her now.
The bell above the café door jingled softly as they stepped inside, warm air washing over them along with the scent of roasted beans, sugar, and baked goods, and for a brief moment it was almost easy to pretend the world was normal.
A few customers turned their heads, recognition flickering briefly, then returned to their drinks and conversations, attention already drifting away the way it did in places where people came to relax.
Soren approached the counter, keeping his voice low.
"Can we get a private room?"
The waiter nodded politely, gaze flicking past him to Lilliana, expression respectful in a way that suggested familiarity.
"Of course, Professor Roseblood. Right this way."
Lilliana lowered her head slightly at the title, a small, automatic acknowledgement, and followed without letting go of Soren's sleeve.
They were led down a short corridor to a small room at the back, a space with a single window, a round table, and two chairs, and as soon as the door shut behind them, the noise of the main café floor muted, leaving only faint clinking of cups somewhere in the distance.
The quiet felt immediate, a soft pressure release.
Once they sat down, Soren ordered without thinking too hard about it, words coming out like muscle memory.
"Cake, black coffee for her, and tea with milk and sugar, please."
The waiter jotted it down and left.
Silence settled in the room.
Lilliana sat beside him instead of across from him, still clinging stubbornly to his sleeve, chair scooted close enough that their shoulders almost touched, fingers wrapped tight in the fabric as if letting go once might mean losing him entirely.
"Lilly." Soren broke the quiet gently.
Her head jerked a little, eyes turning toward him, teary lime-green gaze glistening under the light.
"I'm sorry," she muttered immediately, as if apology was the only language she had left.
"I told you, it's fine."
He kept his voice steady.
"There's nothing to be sorry for."
"B-But, I hurt you," she whispered, and the words scraped out of her throat like sand. "I remember it all. I don't know why I… did any of that, but I remember it…"
She didn't defend herself.
She didn't try to make excuses.
Broken sniffles cut through the ends of her sentences as if her body kept interrupting her, and the raw honesty of it made pity twist in Soren's chest.
Yes, it had hurt.
The way she had pulled away, the coldness in her gaze, the distance she had created with careful steps and professional smiles.
But he knew it hadn't been intentional.
Morcant.
Morcant and his disgusting [Dark Energy] was the cause.
And Soren had already dealt with him, at least enough to keep him away, enough to stop the pressure that had warped everything.
Fingers tapped lightly against the table as he mulled over his words, not because he didn't know what he wanted to say, but because he knew exactly how much weight each sentence would carry for her right now.
He didn't want Lilliana crushed under guilt.
He wanted things to go back to how they were, laughing together, talking without hesitation, teasing each other over small things like they always did, a comfortable rhythm that made the world feel less sharp.
That was what he wanted.
So he started carefully.
"Listen…" The word came slow. "I won't lie and say it didn't hurt. It did."
Lilliana flinched hard, shoulders hunching as if bracing for a blow, gaze dropping toward her lap, fingers tightening around his sleeve until the fabric pulled.
"But," Soren continued, not raising his voice, "I'm also not stupid."
A quiet breath left him.
"One day, everyone suddenly starts keeping their distance from me, acting like they hate me, acting weird."
He kept his tone light on purpose, almost casual, as if he were explaining homework rather than talking about the week that had scraped him raw.
"It was obvious something happened."
Her fingers trembled.
She listened, face tight, expression still lost because she didn't know where he was going with this, only that the conversation mattered enough to make her chest rise and fall unevenly.
"I don't know what it was, or how it happened," he said, then turned so he could look at her properly, eyes meeting those lime-green irises that were still shining with tears, "but I do know that isn't how you really feel."
It was a lie.
He did know.
He had seen the [Dark Energy] clinging to her like a stain, had watched it distort the way she looked at him, had felt the atmosphere around his friends turn sharp with something unnatural.
He knew who was behind it.
He knew far more than he could say.
But the core of what he was telling her was true, the thing he wanted her to hear, the thing that mattered.
He believed her.
He trusted her.
Lilliana noticed that.
Her lime-green eyes rose slowly, meeting his, tears still falling, but they looked different now, less lost and more relieved, as if a door had cracked open somewhere inside her.
"B-But I—"
She tried to argue, voice shaking.
Soren cut her off by lifting his free hand and gently pressing a finger to her lips, the gesture soft, almost familiar, and he watched her freeze like the touch itself had anchored her.
"Just shush and accept it, Lilly," he said quietly. "If this were the other way around, you'd be saying the same to me, wouldn't you?"
She didn't hesitate.
Her head bobbed up and down immediately, quick and earnest, like the answer was obvious.
————「❤︎」————