Chapter Nineteen: Teasing, Art, and Slightly Possessive Magic
(Lyra's POV)
The morning light spilled into my room, illuminating the soft lavender sprigs I'd tucked into a vase last week. My mom was already downstairs, coffee in hand, blueprints scattered across the kitchen table.
"Morning, Lyra," she said without looking up. "Breakfast?"
"Sure," I mumbled, grabbing a piece of toast. We didn't talk about Dad. Ever. Not really. But somehow, the silence was okay. We were safe here. That's all that mattered.
At art club, I was sketching, adding delicate lavender flowers to a canvas of an enchanted forest scene. Evan leaned over, smirking as usual.
"You're… really obsessed with lavender, huh, Sol?"
I looked up, blinking. "I… it's my favorite. So what?"
"Nothing," he said, pretending innocence, but his golden eyes glinted with mischief. "Just… cute, that's all."
Saphira nudged me. "Cute? More like completely flustered."
I groaned. "Stop it!"
Cassian, ever the steady presence, rolled his eyes, muttering something about patience while sketching beside me. Aveline raised an eyebrow but said nothing — though the way she glanced at Cassian was… telling.
Lunch at Clover's Café was chaos, as always. Soraya and Saphira were talking a mile a minute about everything: Halloween, costumes, slow dances, candy, and yes — That night's kiss.
"You two were so obvious!" Soraya said, laughing until she almost knocked over her drink.
"Stop talking!" I whispered, hiding behind my cup. Evan, of course, leaned closer.
"Me? I'm not talking," he said, smirk tugging at his lips. "Just… supervising my fairy."
I choked on my sandwich. "Evan… what?"
"Fairy," he repeated, eyes glinting, one hand brushing lightly against mine across the table. "You're mine, remember?"
I buried my face in my hands, heat spreading to my ears. "I hate you."
"You love me," he said softly.
After lunch, we retreated to the abandoned music room, our second home. I spread out my sketches while Soraya and Saphira teased me endlessly about Evan's possessiveness.
"You're seriously like… glued to him," Saphira said, nudging me.
"Glued?" I squeaked. "I'm not—"
Evan, appearing from behind the piano, smirked. "She's mine," he said, tone half-joking, half-serious.
I groaned, flustered, cheeks burning. "STOP SAYING THAT!"
Classes were… surprisingly productive. I was actually getting better grades, thanks to Cassian's patient tutoring sessions (which were conveniently held at Clover's Café).
"You could tell me if you needed help," Cassian said quietly during math, sliding a notebook toward me. "I'm not the only one who can save half the football team from failing."
I smiled, scribbling notes, glancing at Evan just as he leaned over, smirking. "Mine," he whispered, loud enough only for me to hear.
Later, at home, I called my cousin Rina.
"Lyra! Spill! Halloween? Friends? Magic kisses?"
I groaned, hiding the phone behind my shoulder. "Rina! Stop screaming!"
She laughed. "I live for this drama! Tell me everything!"
I told her about Halloween, slow dancing, teasing Evan, and the way he kept acting slightly possessive. She squealed. "Finally! He's exactly what you need. And… if you start dating, maybe my Mom will also finally lift the no-boy rule."
I laughed softly, imagining it. "Maybe."
By the evening, I was curled up on my bed, wings tucked into my chair, lavender crown beside my sketchbook, and teddies from Evan scattered around me. My mom peeked in, eyes soft.
"You're really… making friends," she said quietly. "I'm proud of you, Lyra."
I smiled, tracing the edges of a sketch. "I think… I finally feel like I belong."
And somewhere, across the street, Evan's golden hair caught the fading light in my mind, smirk and all, as if reminding me: I was his.