⋅•⋅⊰∙∘⭒❊✿❊⭒∘∙⊱⋅•
The morning after the Snow Ball, everything felt gray and heavy. It was one of those winter days where the light creeps through the curtains, making everything inside seem dull and worn out.
I hadn't really slept at all, just lay on top of the covers staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun in slow circles, replaying that courtyard scene over and over in my mind: Ethan's face twisting into a mix of betrayal and exhaustion, Adrien getting punched, the snow falling like it was trying to cover up what had just happened. Each time I shut my eyes, the images became sharper, so I kept them open until my vision blurred, and the room felt like it was moving around me.
When the house finally started to wake up. Mom's footsteps on the stairs and the distant clinking of coffee mugs, I locked my bedroom door. It was just a quiet click, but it felt louder in the silence.
