The soft light of early morning filtered through the half-drawn curtains, turning everything in Leo's apartment the colour of honey and cream. The blanket was still tangled around her; her arm stretched across the empty space beside her. She blinked, confused.
The sheets were still warm—but Leo wasn't there.
A soft ache tugged in her chest, her mind foggy with sleep and disbelief. Had last night really happened? When she paid close attention to her surroundings, she realized that last night wasn't a dream, because she was still at Leo's apartment. The quiet kisses, the laughter, the way she'd held his hand when he started to open up about his past? Was it all real not just a vivid dream fuelled by stress and cocoa?
Her heartbeat just a little faster, a wave of doubt cresting in her.
But then—
Click.
The front door opened gently with a small creak. Leo stepped in, balancing two takeaway cappuccino cups in one hand and nudging the door shut with his foot.
His eyes immediately found hers—blinking, sitting up in bed, hair mussed, that half-lost, half-worried expression still lingering in her eyes.
He paused, pretending to look scandalized.
"Oh, come on," he groaned dramatically. "This is so unfair."
Aurora tilted her head, still caught between dream and wakefulness. "What is?"
Leo walked in, the smell of coffee instantly softening the tension in the room. He placed the cups down on her little desk and turned to face her fully.
"I had this whole plan," he said with a smirk tugging at his lips, voice dipping to that playfully frustrated tone of his. "I was going to wake you up romantically. Like… stand by the bed all prince-charming style, whisper your name, hand your coffee, maybe even steal another kiss."
He leaned against the edge of the desk and sighed with exaggerated defeat. "And here you are. Already awake. Moment—ruined."
Aurora let out a soft laugh, her body relaxing with relief and delight all at once. "Sorry," she said, biting her lip. "Didn't know I was supposed to act asleep."
Leo walked over, one coffee in hand, and placed it gently into hers. "Well now you know. Next time? You lie there and wait like a damsel in distress."
She took the coffee, their fingers brushing lightly.
"Next time?" she asked, raising a brow.
Leo grinned, brushing a soft kiss to the top of her head before flopping onto the bed beside her, careful not to spill his drink. "Absolutely."
They sat in that silence that only morning can bring—their legs tangled beneath the blanket, the hum of city life just beginning outside, and the soft clink of ceramic mugs every time they took a sip. Mochi stirred from his tiny corner, nose twitching at the aroma of milk and warmth.
And Aurora smiled into her cup.
They reached the steps of the main hall, sunlight threading through the branches above, casting patterns over the stone pathway of Chrestvelle. Aurora adjusted the strap of her tote bag as she stole a quick glance at Leo, who seemed unaffected by the curious stares they were drawing. His hand casually slid into his pocket, his stride confident, his gaze focused ahead — like he was immune to the attention.
But Aurora? She had no idea. She was too immersed in their quiet bubble, laughing softly at something Leo had just said — probably a playful jab about how she always double-knots her shoelaces "like a warrior preparing for battle."
What she didn't notice was how eyes trailed after them.
Girls paused mid-step. Guys raised brows. Whispers bloomed like wildflowers in their wake.
"Is that… her?"
"Wasn't she the one who bumped into him a few days ago?"
"Leo Callahan — with a freshman? Since when?"
"They look like they're… dating?"
Aurora only realized they had entered the main courtyard when Leo gently nudged her shoulder, chuckling. "You spaced out."
"Huh?" she blinked.
"You walked past your class building."
"Oh—shit!" she laughed, backpedalling. "Guess someone's distracting me."
He smirked, walking backward now. "Meet you after your lectures?"
She nodded, biting back a smile.
And as she turned to head to her first class, she could still feel his gaze on her — not in a suffocating way, but in a warm, grounding way. Like maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alone in this strange new chapter of her life.
Aurora's brain was mush.
That was the only word she could think of as she staggered out of her first lecture.
The classroom had felt like a metal box slowly melting her neurons. Professor Inaya's voice, though sharp and firm, had dissolved into abstract waves somewhere around Newton's Third Law. All Aurora could understand by the end of it was that physics was rude, and apparently air resistance had teamed up with gravity to make her headache even heavier.
She slumped into her seat as the bell rang for break, forehead resting dramatically on the cool desk surface. Her long lashes fanned the pale wood, and she let out the softest groan — like a half-dead kitten who had tried her best and failed.
"Headache makes your head heavy… air resistance makes it fall faster. Great," she muttered under her breath, pressing her temple to the desk. "I'm officially a falling apple."
Her eyes fluttered closed for what she thought would be a five-second mental break.
That was until — Knock. Knock.
A knuckle tapped against her desk, and she lifted her head, bleary-eyed, hair slightly mussed.
Standing there was a girl with arched eyebrows and an unmistakable air of annoyance around her.
She was probably the same age, dressed in the same regulation blazer, her nails perfectly painted a crimson red that matched her lip tint.
Her arms were crossed tightly against her chest as if she were mentally restraining herself from saying something unfiltered.
Aurora blinked up at her. "Uh… yeah?"
"You're in my seat," the girl said flatly.
Aurora looked around. The room was half-empty — clearly the after-lecture exodus was in full swing — and this particular desk looked very much like any other.
She blinked again, dumbfounded. "I'm… sorry?"
The girl rolled her eyes, clearly not in the mood. "This is where I usually sit. Since orientation. I keep my notes in the side drawer." She motioned toward the tiny built-in tray under the desk, which sure enough had a neatly stacked notebook with a mint green tab peeking out.
"Oh," Aurora muttered, quickly sitting up and rubbing the back of her neck. "Right. I didn't realize— I was just… dying."
"Yeah," the girl said with a clipped tone, sliding into the chair beside her once Aurora moved over. "You look it."
Aurora let out a small breath through her nose. Okay. Noted: don't collapse on random desks.
She wasn't mad — just embarrassed. Her social battery was still booting up from whatever weird dream-world she'd floated in on her way to college this morning.
After a beat of awkward silence, the girl side-eyed her.
"You're the one Leo Callahan walked in with today, aren't you?"
Aurora stiffened. Her body betrayed her instantly — heart skipping a confused beat.
Here it comes.
She tried to play it cool. "Uh… yeah, I guess."
The girl hummed — unreadable — before flipping open her notebook and scribbling something down in delicate cursive.