The festivities carried on into the late hours, lanterns swaying like fireflies, music softening into something dreamy and slow. The crowd had begun to thin as curfew approached, but none of us made a move to leave.
We were still huddled together by the fountain, laughter dying down into comfortable silence. Claire sat with her legs draped over the bench, gesturing dramatically with her half-eaten pastry. Diana leaned against the marble base, her arms crossed, watching all of us like a queen observing her court. Camille reclined elegantly beside her, brushing starlight from her sleeve like it was just another accessory. Tessa sat across from me, her eyes closed, face lifted toward the sky like she was memorizing the night.
And me?
I sat in the middle, knees pulled up, cloak wrapped loosely around my shoulders, warmth pooled quietly in my chest.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic.
It was just… perfect.
"Do you think this is what normal feels like?" I asked, breaking the quiet.
Claire blinked. "You mean like… emotionally, or logistically?"
I laughed. "Just—this. Being here. With all of you."
"No explosions, no surprise combat drills, no magical outbursts," Diana listed off. "So yes, I'd call this abnormally normal."
Camille leaned forward slightly. "Do you want it to stay like this, Sera?"
I hesitated, glancing at each of them.
Lillian had already gone to bed earlier. She'd whispered to me before leaving, "I'll let the others have you tonight." Like she knew I needed to share this time too. Like she trusted it.
I looked back at Camille and nodded slowly. "I do. Even if it can't last forever… I want to remember it like this."
Tessa's voice came soft from the shadows. "Then remember it."
I closed my eyes for a moment and just breathed.
And then—
Claire launched a strawberry pastry at Diana, who caught it with terrifying precision.
"Clovis," she warned, "you've declared war."
Claire laughed and darted off, weaving between lanterns and booths. Diana chased after her, elegant as ever even in pursuit. Camille gave me an exasperated look before tossing her cape over her shoulder and following, clearly unwilling to miss the show.
That left just Tessa and me, sitting beneath the moonlight, watching the others disappear around the corner.
I turned to her slowly. "You're not going to chase anyone?"
"I don't need to."
There was a pause. Then, gently, she added, "I'm where I want to be."
My heart gave a quiet thud.
Tessa didn't flirt. She didn't tease. She just said things like that—softly, clearly, like truths that didn't need decoration.
And yet they hit harder than anything.
"You're all going to destroy me," I murmured, letting my head fall against her shoulder.
"You'll survive us," she said, her voice barely above a breath. "You're stronger than you think."
We stayed like that until the laughter faded, until footsteps returned and Diana flopped beside us, winded but regal, Claire dramatically "surrendering" by lying face-first in the grass.
Camille returned last, brushing her hands together. "A satisfying conclusion to a very dumb battle."
"Agreed," Diana huffed.
Claire gave a thumbs-up from the dirt.
We looked a mess. A soft, glowing, happy mess.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I was just surviving a story someone else wrote.
I was living one.
And the best part?
I didn't have to do it alone.
Not anymore.