The days that followed blurred softly together, golden and fleeting—each one marked by whispers in the hallways, lingering touches during lunch, and the unspoken rhythm of hearts moving closer.
The girls didn't push. Not anymore. Maybe they sensed the shift in me.
Or maybe they already knew.
That I was no longer standing on the outside of this story, trying not to break anything.
I was in it now. Entangled.
And, for the first time since arriving in this world, I wasn't afraid of that.
Not when Lillian would pass by my desk during lectures and brush her fingers just lightly over my shoulder. Not when Diana would flash that wicked little smile from across the room during debates, her eyes promising a thousand things without saying a word. Not when Camille's hand would linger just a second too long after passing me a script. Not when Claire would grin and whisper some impulsive plan to sneak us out for midnight snacks. Not when Tessa would sit next to me in complete silence and still manage to say more than anyone else.
No. I wasn't afraid anymore.
I was falling for all of them.
Hopelessly.
Unevenly.
But undeniably.
One late afternoon, I found myself in the library. Alone, or at least I thought I was. I needed to study—at least, that's what I told myself. In truth, I just needed a moment to breathe. A moment to think.
The window beside me caught the dying sun perfectly, casting golden patterns across the ancient wood. I traced them with my fingertips, letting the silence settle around me like a blanket.
"I thought I'd find you here."
I turned. Camille stood in the aisle, a book tucked under her arm, head tilted in that soft, elegant way of hers.
"I'm not hiding," I said.
"I didn't say you were," she replied gently, sliding into the seat across from me. "But you do tend to come here when your thoughts get too loud."
I didn't argue. She was right.
Camille opened her book, but her eyes didn't move from me. "You've changed."
I blinked. "What?"
"You're less afraid," she said, matter-of-fact. "Still stubborn. Still adorably flustered. But… you've stopped running."
I looked down at the table. "…Yeah."
"I like this version of you," she murmured, turning a page absentmindedly. "She's brave. She's real."
I didn't know how to respond to that.
Thankfully, I didn't have to. Because the library doors creaked open again, and Claire bounded in—somehow managing to be both energetic and quiet at the same time.
"There you are," she whispered, slipping into the chair beside me. "I was looking everywhere!"
"Why?" I asked.
Claire leaned in, violet eyes dancing. "I had a feeling you needed cake."
She placed a small wrapped bundle on the table and grinned. "Chocolate raspberry. Your favorite, right?"
I stared at it. "How did you even—?"
"I have my ways," she said, smug.
Camille laughed softly. "You mean you bribed a kitchen maid."
Claire gasped. "I would never!"
I raised an eyebrow.
"…Okay, I absolutely did," Claire admitted, laughing. "But it was worth it to see that face."
I was blushing. Again.
Tessa arrived minutes later, slipping into the seat beside Claire. She didn't say anything. Just offered me a mug of tea. My favorite blend.
I stared at the three of them—the quiet comfort, the shared glances, the way their presence settled something inside me I hadn't even realized was restless.
"This feels like a date," I muttered.
Camille smiled. "Maybe it is."
Claire winked. "Then we're winning."
Tessa looked at me, and for the first time in a long while, I saw something unguarded in her expression.
Peace.
"You don't have to choose," she said quietly. "Not now."
My heart stuttered.
Camille nodded, reaching across the table to brush her fingers over mine. "We're not going anywhere."
Claire leaned on my shoulder dramatically. "We'll wait. Even if it kills us."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. It wasn't nervous or awkward. It was real. Full and warm and aching.
"I'm… so lucky," I whispered.
"You are," Camille said.
"We remind you every day," Claire added.
Tessa said nothing. She just kept holding my gaze like she always did—like she saw everything and accepted it anyway.
Later that night, after we'd all parted ways and I was back in my room, lying on my bed with the stars flickering outside my window, I felt Chloe stir in the back of my mind.
'So,' she murmured. 'Still think you don't belong here?'
I smiled.
"No. I think… I finally do."
Because maybe this wasn't the story I thought I knew.
Maybe I hadn't just fallen into a book.
Maybe I'd rewritten it.
With my own messy, complicated, beautiful ending.
And maybe that ending… hadn't even begun yet.
The next morning came with a kind of quiet stillness. The kind that makes the world feel softer, more intimate. I woke early, earlier than usual, and for once, I wasn't in a rush. I sat by the window, knees curled to my chest, watching the academy courtyard below slowly come to life—students passing through the misty morning haze, chatter muffled by fog.
There was something different in the air. Not dangerous. Not unsettling. Just… expectant.
Like something was coming.
Or maybe that was just how it felt to be in love with five extraordinary, ridiculous girls and still not know what to do about it.
I didn't have time to dwell on it for long. A knock came at the door. Light. Rhythmic.
Claire.
I opened the door and sure enough, there she was—dressed in her uniform but with her jacket slightly crooked, one stocking haphazardly pulled up, and a too-cheerful smile on her face.
"Good morning, sunshine," she greeted, handing me a paper bag. "Breakfast. And possibly a bribe."
I stared at the bag. "What for?"
Claire's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Convincing you to help me with student council forms this afternoon. And maybe sneaking out after curfew."
I sighed, motioning for her to come in. "It's 7 a.m."
"Exactly," she said, stepping inside with a hop in her step. "Peak bribery hours."
As I bit into the pastry she brought—a flaky strawberry danish, my favorite—Claire settled beside me on the edge of the bed, resting her chin in her hand.
"Y'know, I've been thinking," she said, voice unusually soft. "About the festival. And everything after."
I glanced at her. "You mean the part where everyone's been… weirdly gentle lately?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I think we're all scared to push too hard. Even Diana's being patient. And that's saying something."
I chuckled softly. "You're not wrong."
Claire sighed dramatically. "I just don't want to ruin it. Whatever this is between us—all of us. You mean a lot to me, Sera. Even if I'm not the most graceful at showing it."
I reached over and nudged her arm. "You show it more than you realize."
Her grin returned. "Does that mean I'm your favorite?"
My face immediately flushed. "Don't start."
"You didn't say no~"
"Claire!"
She laughed, bounding to her feet. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you alone—for now. But don't forget. Council forms after class. It'll be a date."
As she left, I was already regretting agreeing to paperwork. But my heart felt lighter somehow. Steadier.
I dressed and made my way to the gardens before class, needing the familiar scent of flowers and soil to clear my mind. Lillian was already there, tending to the rose bushes with her usual graceful ease. She wore gloves, her sleeves rolled to her elbows, and the morning sun caught the faint shimmer of her pastel-pink hair.
"You're early," I said, stepping beside her.
Lillian glanced over, smiling. "So are you."
For a moment, we just worked in silence. Hands brushing occasionally. The quiet felt good. Safe.
"Claire said something this morning," I said eventually. "About how everyone's holding back."
Lillian paused, then resumed pruning a branch. "She's not wrong."
"I think I've been holding back too," I admitted.
Lillian set her shears down and turned to me fully, green eyes luminous in the morning light.
"You've been through a lot," she said gently. "You're allowed to be cautious."
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I'm also allowed to be brave, right?"
She reached forward, brushing a bit of dirt from my cheek, her touch light but grounding. "Always."
"I want to spend the weekend with you," I blurted out.
Lillian blinked. Then smiled.
"Are you sure?"
I nodded, cheeks burning. "I don't know what'll happen after, but I want to try. I want to understand what I'm feeling. And I want that first step to be with you."
She didn't answer with words. She just pulled me into a soft, warm hug, burying her face in my hair.
I let her hold me. Let myself lean into her for once.
"I'm so proud of you," she whispered.
Later that evening, I walked into the student council office to find Diana already there, seated behind a desk with a pile of papers and two teacups waiting. Her smile was knowing.
"I heard you made plans for the weekend," she said, pouring tea.
I winced. "Already?"
"Claire talks. Loudly." She handed me a cup. "But I'm not here to make you feel guilty. I'm here to tell you something."
I looked at her warily. "Should I be worried?"
Diana leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "You've changed, Sera. And not just on the battlefield. You're still flustered and awkward and ridiculously easy to tease—" she grinned as I groaned— "but you've become… radiant. It's no wonder we're all falling for you."
I couldn't speak. Her words settled deep inside me, too sincere to brush off.
"And," she added, softer now, "no matter where your heart leads you… I'll be right here."
The next few days passed in a gentle blur. I shared moments with all of them—each one different, each one meaningful. Tessa met me in the library and quietly passed me a book she thought I'd like. Camille walked me back to my dorm after a particularly long day, slipping her hand into mine without a word. Claire made good on her promise and dragged me out to watch the stars after curfew, her voice full of laughter, even as she kept sneaking glances when she thought I wasn't looking.
And Lillian?
That weekend arrived like a breath of spring, and when she took my hand and led me to the carriage waiting just outside the academy gates, my heart didn't race out of fear.
It raced with hope.
Because for the first time, I was stepping forward.
Not as Chloe.
Not as the villainess.
But as Sera Vandren.
And this?
This was just the beginning.