Gabriel's POV
Date & Time: Monday, August 30, 2021, 6:45 AM
Gabriel woke to silence.
Not the forced, brittle quiet of isolation. Not the heavy stillness that came after everyone else had learned to stay away. Just... morning. The kind where Xavier's pencil scratched against paper at his desk, where the radiator clanked its familiar rhythm, where pale August light filtered through the window and painted the walls in shades of gold.
'I woke up naturally. When was the last time that happened?'
He blinked at the ceiling, tracking the sensation. No Ajax assault. No alarm jolting him into defensive readiness. Just the gentle pull of consciousness, like his body had decided it was safe enough to ease into waking.
The thought made his chest tighten.
Gabriel sat up slowly, pushing his hair back from his face. His fingers caught on something—rough texture where there should be smooth strands. He pulled his hand away and saw it.
Glitter.
Pink and silver sparkles clinging to his fingertips like they'd been waiting for him.
'Of course. Of course it's still there.'
"The glitter's still there," Xavier said without looking up from his sketchbook, who is already in his uniform and ready for the day. His pencil kept moving in smooth, deliberate strokes. "In case you were wondering."
Gabriel swung his legs out of bed, bare feet hitting the cool floor. "I can see that."
"It's been two days." Xavier's mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but close. "I think it's permanent."
"It's not permanent." Gabriel stood, rolling his shoulders against the stiffness of sleep. "It's... stubborn."
'Like everything else in my past two days lately. Plans that won't hold. Walls that won't stay up. Glitter that won't wash out.'
He crossed to the small mirror above his dresser, leaning in to examine the damage. Silver sparkles caught the morning light, scattered through his dark hair like stars trapped in a night sky. A few pink specks clung to his temple, right where Enid had touched her own face yesterday when she'd realized the glitter had bonded.
'She still has hers too.'
The memory surfaced unbidden—Enid's fingers tracing her temple, that small laugh of resignation mixed with something else. Something that looked like she didn't entirely mind carrying the evidence of their first meeting.
Gabriel's reflection stared back at him, and for a moment he saw what Xavier must see: a teenage boy with bed-messed hair and glitter in it, looking more confused than dangerous.
'When did I stop looking like a threat first thing in the morning?'
"You could just leave it," Xavier suggested, still sketching. The charcoal smell from his desk mixed with the faint ozone that always clung to him when his psychic abilities stirred. "It's not hurting anything."
"It's evidence."
"Of what? That you caught a falling girl and got glittered for your trouble?" Xavier finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. "Sounds like a good story to me."
Gabriel turned toward the bathroom. "It's a nuisance."
"Uh-huh." Xavier's pencil resumed its journey across paper. "That's why you've touched your hair four times since you woke up. Because it's such a nuisance."
'He's really too observant.'
Gabriel didn't dignify that with a response. He grabbed his towel and retreated to the bathroom, closing the door with careful precision. The lock clicked—a small barrier between him and Xavier's knowing looks.
The mirror above the sink showed the full extent of the situation. Glitter everywhere. In his hair, yes, but also caught in his eyebrows, dusting his collarbone where his sleep shirt hung loose. Two days of washing and it hadn't budged.
'Memorable. She said our meeting was memorable. I said it first.'
Gabriel turned on the tap, letting the water run cold. He'd tried hot yesterday. Tried soap the day before. The glitter remained, stubborn and bright, like it had decided to become part of him whether he liked it or not.
He wet his hands, worked up a lather with the bar soap, and scrubbed at his hairline. Pink foam swirled down the drain. When he looked up, the glitter sparkled back at him, completely unaffected.
"Persistent little—" He stopped himself, staring at his reflection's mouth. When had he started talking to glitter?
'Since it started reminding me of her.'
The thought came quiet and unwelcome. He pushed it down, tried again with more soap, more pressure. The glitter stayed. Of course it did. Nothing about the last two days had gone according to plan. Why should craft supplies follow the rules when people wouldn't?
A knock rattled the door.
"Gabe!" Ajax's voice, muffled but enthusiastic. "You decent?"
Gabriel dried his hands, studying the remaining glitter one more time. It caught the bathroom light, throwing tiny rainbows across the mirror's surface. The silver sparkles gleamed like moonlight.
Last night flickered through his mind—Enid's quiet thank you, her soft smile that stole his breath.
The warmth that thought produced was more concerning than the glitter itself.
"Gabriel!" The knock came louder. "Dude, it's FIRST DAY! You can't hide in the bathroom all morning!"
"I'm not hiding," Gabriel called back, which was technically true. He was washing. The fact that he was also avoiding Ajax's invading morning energy was coincidental.
He opened the door to find Ajax practically vibrating with excitement, his green-striped beanie slightly askew and his grin wide enough to be its own source of light.
"FIRST DAY!" Ajax announced, like Gabriel might have missed this information. "Classes! Schedules! NEW THINGS!"
"Yes. I'm aware." Gabriel moved past him toward his dresser, pulling out his uniform. The indigo blazer still hung on the chair where he'd abandoned it Saturday night—the glittered one, the evidence of a moment he couldn't quite bring himself to clean yet.
'That's different. That's... practical. It's my spare that's clean.'
Xavier's pencil had stopped moving. Gabriel could feel both of them watching as he very deliberately selected his non-glittered blazer from the closet.
"So," Ajax said, bouncing on his heels. "What's everyone got first period? We should compare schedules!"
"At breakfast," Xavier said, closing his sketchbook with careful precision. "Where normal people compare schedules."
"We could compare now AND at breakfast." Ajax flopped onto Gabriel's bed, apparently immune to the concept of personal space. "Double the fun!"
Gabriel pulled his white shirt on, focusing on the buttons with unnecessary concentration. "That's not how fun works."
"How would you know?" Ajax's tone was teasing, not cruel. "You're allergic to fun. It's a medical condition. Chronic fun deficiency."
"That's not—" Gabriel stopped, seeing Xavier's mouth twitch again. 'They're doing it on purpose. The pincer movement. Trying to make me smile before seven in the morning.'
It was working.
He turned away to hide it, pulling on his dark trousers. "I have Advanced Physics first."
"SAME!" Ajax shot upright. "We can sit together! I'll throw paper airplanes at you!"
"Please don't."
"Too late. Already planning it." Ajax stood, stretching until his joints popped. "What about you, Xave?"
"Art Theory." Xavier tucked his sketchbook under his arm, standing with that loose grace he always had. "Then Temporal Insight during third period."
"Psychic stuff," Ajax said, nodding sagely like he understood anything about psychic abilities. "Very mysterious. Very you."
Gabriel adjusted his tie in the mirror, then froze. The glitter in his hair caught the light again, sparkling cheerfully at him.
Xavier appeared in the reflection behind him, sketchbook tucked under one arm. "You know," he said conversationally, "I don't think it's going anywhere."
"It's glitter. It's not sentient."
"No, but it's very committed to the bit." Xavier's green eyes held something that looked almost like approval. "Some things stick around whether we plan for them or not."
'He's not just talking about glitter.'
Gabriel met Xavier's gaze in the mirror. His roommate's expression was calm, knowing, with that particular brand of gentle observation that made it impossible to deflect.
"It's just glitter," Gabriel said.
"Sure." Xavier headed for the door, Ajax bouncing after him. "And breakfast is just food. But we still go together."
They left, and Gabriel stood alone in front of the mirror one more time. The glitter sparkled. Stubborn. Persistent. Refusing to follow the rules about what should wash out and what should stay.
'She still has hers too.'
The thought came again, quieter this time. Less like an intrusion and more like... something else. Something that didn't feel entirely wrong.
Gabriel touched the glitter in his hair one more time, watching it catch the light. Then he grabbed his bag, straightened his already-straight collar, and followed his roommates toward breakfast.
The glitter came with him.
'Of course it did. Nothing ever goes as planned.'
But this time, walking down the hallway with Ajax's laughter echoing ahead and Xavier's knowing silence beside him, the thought didn't taste quite as bitter as it should.
---
Enid's POV
"You need to actually meet them," Enid said, dragging Yoko by the elbow down the hallway. "Not just observe them like they're specimens in a lab."
Yoko pulled her sunglasses down slightly, revealing one skeptical dark eye. "I've *observed* them. That counts."
"Observing is creepy. Meeting is normal." Enid tugged harder, her rainbow backpack bouncing against her shoulders. The commissary smell hit them as they rounded the corner—bacon, coffee, something sweet and yeasty that made her stomach growl. "Come on, they're nice! Xavier's really chill, and Ajax is—"
"Loud?"
"Enthusiastic," Enid corrected, pulling open the heavy door. The commissary noise washed over them—clattering trays, overlapping conversations, the general chaos of Monday morning. "And Gabriel's actually really—"
She stopped mid-sentence because her eyes had found their corner table automatically, like her brain had GPS coordinates programmed in, and there he was.
Gabriel. At the same table. In the same spot. Dark hair catching the overhead lights and—
'Oh my god, the glitter's still there.'
Her heart did something stupid in her chest. A flutter. A skip. Something that felt like her hindbrain had just spotted something Important and was freaking out about it.
"You're doing the face thing," Yoko said flatly.
Enid tore her gaze away. "What face thing?!"
"The 'I see the boy I like' face." Yoko's mouth quirked up at one corner—barely visible, but there. "Your pupils literally dilated."
"I don't—it's not—we're just FRIENDS." Enid could feel her cheeks heating. "He's just... he's sitting there. Where people sit. For breakfast. Which is a normal thing people do."
"Uh-huh." Yoko's tone suggested she was filing this away for future torment. "Very normal. That's why you're blushing."
"I'm not blushing, I'm just—it's warm in here!" Enid waved a hand at the commissary. "Lots of bodies! Lots of... heat!"
Across the room, Ajax must have spotted them because his hand shot up, waving enthusiastically. Xavier sat beside him, already eating something his ever-present sketchbook at the side. And Gabriel—
Gabriel looked up.
Their eyes met.
Enid's breath caught. He had glitter in his hair. Silver sparkles that caught the light when he moved, scattered through the dark strands like—
'Like mine. We match. We're both still wearing evidence of Saturday and—oh no, he's looking away.'
Gabriel's gaze dropped back to his tray, jaw tight, shoulders tensing in that way that said he was suddenly very interested in his scrambled eggs.
'Does he hate that I'm here? Did I do something wrong? Should I not have—'
"Enid." Yoko's voice cut through her spiral. "Breathe. You're panicking."
"I'm not panicking, I'm just—" Enid forced air into her lungs. "What if he doesn't want me to sit there? What if yesterday was just a one-time thing and I'm being weird and—"
"Then he wouldn't have looked at you like that."
"Like what?"
Yoko pushed her sunglasses back up. "Like he forgot how to be guarded for half a second." She started walking toward the table. "Come on. You dragged me here. We're meeting them."
Enid followed, hyperaware of every step. The pack of idiots, August Pack, sat at their usual table near the windows—she could feel Jonas Kael's eyes, Yoko told her about him and his pack, tracking her movement across the room. Other werewolves clustered around him, their morning laughter sharp-edged and deliberately loud.
'Don't look at them. Just don't look.'
"Glitter Force incoming!" Ajax announced as they approached, his grin wide and welcoming. "And you brought reinforcements!"
Xavier glanced up from his food, taking in Yoko with a single assessing look. "Yoko Tanaka. Enid's mentioned you last night."
"Has she?" Yoko's tone was perfectly neutral—the kind of neutral that could mean anything. She slid into the seat across from Xavier with liquid grace, positioning herself with a clear view of Gabriel. "All good things, I hope."
"Mostly complaints about your sleep schedule," Xavier said, mouth twitching. "Something about 'staying up too late'?"
Yoko's lips curved. "I'm nocturnal. It's a medical condition."
Enid stood frozen between chairs, suddenly paralyzed by choice. Should she sit across from Gabriel? Safe distance. Clear sightlines. No accidental contact.
But yesterday during the walk, she'd walked beside him. And in the communal kitchen, she'd sit close enough to smell coffee and that pine-and-iron scent that seemed to cling to him. And maybe—
'Be brave. Be brave like you were when you thanked him for the snacks.'
She slid into the seat next to Gabriel.
His shoulders went rigid. Not pulling away, exactly, but definitely noticing. She could smell him—that same mix of pine and iron and something else, something clean like soap and determination.
'He tried to wash the glitter out. He tried this morning and it didn't work.'
The knowledge made her want to smile, but that seemed inappropriate when he was currently staring at his eggs like they held the secrets of the universe.
"So!" Ajax leaned forward, radiating enthusiasm. "First day! What's everyone got?"
"Art Theory," Xavier said, still sketching. His pencil moved in sure, confident strokes. "Then Temporal Insight."
"Physics," Gabriel said quietly. "Then Werewolf Reproduction."
Enid's head whipped toward him. "Wait, you have Werewolf Reproduction second period?"
"Yes." He was looking at his coffee now, not her. "Nine o'clock. With Professor Harker."
"I have that too!" The words came out too enthusiastic, too bright. Enid tried to reel it back. "I mean. Not surprising. It's pretty standard for... for us. Werewolves. Because we're... yeah."
'Smooth, Enid. Real smooth. Why are words hard?'
Ajax was grinning like he'd just won something. "Oh, that's convenient! You guys can sit together!"
"It's just a class," Gabriel said, but his fingers had tightened slightly on his mug.
"Sure, sure." Ajax turned to Enid. "What else you got?"
Enid pulled out her schedule with slightly shaky hands, smoothing the paper on the table. "Um, let's see—Werewolf Reproduction, then Lunar Astronomy, then lunch, then Botanical Sciences—"
"Wait." Xavier's fork paused. He looked at Gabriel. "Aren't you in Botanical Sciences?"
"Fourth period Monday and Wednesday." Gabriel's voice was perfectly even. Carefully controlled. "Why?"
"Because—" Enid checked her schedule again, her heart doing that stupid flutter thing. "I have Botanical Sciences fourth period Monday and Wednesday too."
Silence.
Ajax's grin had gone nuclear. Xavier's mouth curved in something that looked like satisfaction. Yoko was studying Gabriel over the rim of her blood pack with the intensity of someone cataloging evidence.
And Gabriel—
Gabriel was very deliberately not looking at her. "That's... coincidental."
"Yeah!" Enid agreed too quickly. "Total coincidence! Just scheduling! Nothing weird about it!"
'Why am I like this. Why can't I be normal.'
"So you guys share two classes," Ajax said, drawing out the words like he was explaining something to children. "That's pretty cool."
"It's standard class overlap," Gabriel said flatly. "Werewolf-specific courses must have limited sections."
"Right, right. Super standard." Ajax took a massive bite of toast. "Nothing special about it at all."
Xavier caught Enid's eye and gave her a tiny, private smile—the kind that said 'I see what's happening here and I'm not going to make it worse'. Then he elbowed Ajax under the table.
"Ow! What—"
"Coffee," Xavier said mildly. "Go get more coffee."
Ajax opened his mouth to protest, caught Xavier's expression, and apparently decided caffeine was worth the strategic retreat. "Fine. Anyone else need anything?"
Enid shook her head. Gabriel made a small negative sound. Yoko held up her half-empty blood pack in decline.
Ajax departed, and the table settled into a different rhythm—quieter, more comfortable. Xavier opens his sketch book. Yoko sipped her blood pack with delicate precision. Gabriel ate his eggs in careful, measured bites.
And Enid tried very hard not to notice how close his elbow was to hers on the table. How if she moved just an inch to the right, they'd be touching.
'Don't be weird. Just eat breakfast. Normal breakfast eating.'
She speared a piece of waffle, determinedly casual. "So, uh. Werewolf Reproduction. That's... a class."
Gabriel's jaw worked for a moment. "It covers transformation mechanics. Lunar cycle influence. Pack dynamics."
"Right." Enid nodded like this was fascinating new information and not stuff she'd been hearing about her whole life. "Pack dynamics. Fun."
Something shifted in Gabriel's posture—a slight loosening of the rigid line of his shoulders. "You don't sound convinced."
"I'm just—" Enid gestured vaguely with her fork. "My family's really into pack dynamics. Like, REALLY into them. Traditional hierarchy and lunar positioning and who sits where during the Full Moon Feast and—" She cut herself off. "Sorry. I'm rambling."
"You're fine." Gabriel's voice was quieter now. Almost gentle. "Traditional pack structures can be... restrictive."
'He gets it. He actually gets it.'
Across the table, Yoko had gone very still. Enid could practically see her roommate's analytical brain processing this interaction, weighing it against whatever rumors she'd heard.
"Yeah," Enid said softly. "Restrictive is a good word for it."
Movement at the window table caught her eye. Jonas Kael was standing now, laughing with his friends, but his gaze had drifted toward their corner. Toward her, specifically. She watched as he caught her looking, watched as his expression shifted into something deliberate and cold.
Then he turned away. Just turned his back, angled his shoulder like she'd ceased to exist mid-glance.
The rest of his table followed suit—a coordinated dismissal, werewolves choosing to cut one of their own.
'Like I need them.'
The hurt was smaller than it should be. Duller. Like maybe she'd already started building scar tissue over that particular wound. But it still stung, still made her want to curl in on herself and—
"Enid."
She blinked. Gabriel was looking at her now—actually looking, his gray eyes steady and serious. "Botanical Sciences. Fourth period. Do you know anything about carnivorous plants?"
The subject change was so obvious, so carefully deployed, that it took her a moment to process. He'd seen Jonas turn away. He'd watched the August Pack dismiss her, and now he was—
'He's redirecting. He's trying to help.'
Something warm bloomed in her chest, bright and soft and terrifying.
"Um." Enid forced her brain back online. "I know they eat bugs? And they're cool?"
"I've heard that Professor Stone likes a cataloging project." Gabriel's tone was perfectly normal—like they were just two students discussing class logistics and not performing a careful rescue operation. "If we're both in fourth period, could you be my… l-lab partner?"
"Oh!" Enid latched onto this like a lifeline. "Yeah! Of course! Better to be a partner with someone you already know!""
Xavier made a small sound that might have been amusement. Yoko's expression had gone thoughtful—less predatory assessment, more genuine curiosity.
Ajax returned with coffee, setting mugs down with cheerful carelessness. "Did I miss anything?"
"Just discussing carnivorous plants," Xavier said smoothly.
"Awesome!" Ajax dropped back into his seat. "Those things are metal. Little death traps disguised as salads."
And just like that, the moment passed. The table shifted back into easy conversation—Ajax's enthusiasm, Xavier's dry observations, Yoko's occasional sardonic input. Gabriel ate his breakfast in careful silence, but it was a different kind of silence now. Less like isolation and more like someone who was just... listening.
Enid found herself hyper-aware of the space between them. His arm on the table, close enough that she could see the faint silver glitter still clinging to his sleeve. Her own arm, parallel to his, maintaining that careful inch of distance.
'We're sitting next to each other. He didn't ask me to move. He redirected when Jonas was mean.'
The warmth in her chest expanded, dangerous and bright.
"—right, Enid?"
She blinked back into focus. Ajax was looking at her expectantly.
"Sorry, what?"
"I said you've got that glitter on your temple still." Ajax grinned. "Matching set with Gabriel's hair situation. Very coordinated."
Enid's hand flew to her temple automatically. The stubborn speck was still there, refusing to budge despite two days of washing. "It won't come off!"
"Gabriel tried this morning too," Xavier said casually. "Turns out craft supplies are more committed than most of his relationships."
"I don't have—" Gabriel stopped, apparently deciding that arguing would only make it worse. He picked up his coffee instead, taking a long drink that seemed designed to prevent further comment.
"It's kind of cute though," Ajax continued, because subtlety had never been his strong suit. "Like a friendship bracelet, but glitter. A friendship glitter."
"That's not—" Enid started.
"It's just glitter," Gabriel said at the same time.
They stopped. Looked at each other. Gabriel's expression was carefully neutral, but there was something in his eyes—something that looked almost like amusement.
Enid felt her mouth curve up. "Very stubborn glitter."
"Extremely stubborn," Gabriel agreed.
"Possibly permanent."
"That seems excessive."
"You're the one who said it's been two days." Enid touched her temple again, feeling the rough texture. "At this point I think it's part of me."
Gabriel's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close. "That's concerning."
"Why? You think I can't pull off the glitter look?" Enid leaned in slightly, grinning. "Because I think it's very me. Sparkly. Colorful. Refusing to follow washing instructions."
"That's..." Gabriel looked away, but not before Enid caught something that might have been a smile. "Accurate."
Ajax looked like Christmas had come early. Xavier's pencil had paused again, his green eyes tracking the interaction with obvious interest. And Yoko—
Yoko was watching Gabriel with an expression Enid couldn't quite read. Not hostile, exactly. More like someone re-evaluating previous conclusions.
The breakfast rush swirled around them—students comparing schedules, friends calling across tables, the general chaos of first-day-back energy. But at their corner table, something else was happening. Something quieter and more important.
Enid's schedule lay on the table between them, next to Gabriel's barely-touched eggs. Two classes together. Lab partners, probably. And this—whatever this was—sitting next to him at breakfast while Ajax grinned and Xavier sketched and Yoko observed.
'This is my pack now. Not with August Pack and others. This.'
The thought settled into her chest with surprising certainty.
"We should probably head out soon," Xavier said, checking his watch. "Classes start in twenty minutes."
"Already?" Ajax shoved the last of his toast in his mouth. "Time flies when you're watching friendship glitter sparkle."
"Please stop calling it that," Gabriel said, but there was no real heat in it.
They stood, gathering bags and trays. The commissary flow carried them toward the exit, and Enid found herself next to Gabriel again as they walked. Not touching, but close.
"So," she said as they reached the doors. "Werewolf Reproduction. Nine o'clock."
"Nine o'clock," Gabriel confirmed.
"I'll see you there?"
"It's our scheduled class." His tone was dry, but when she glanced up, his expression had softened slightly. "I'll be there."
"Good." Enid adjusted her rainbow backpack, suddenly aware of how many people were streaming past them. "That's... good."
They stood there for a beat too long—just standing, just looking at each other with glitter in their hair and something new building between them.
Then Ajax called "GABRIEL! PHYSICS!" from down the hall, and the moment broke.
Gabriel's jaw tightened. "I should—"
"Yeah! Go! I'll see you second period!" Enid stepped back, giving him space to leave. "Good luck with... physics."
"Right." He adjusted his bag strap, started to turn, then paused. "Enid."
Her heart jumped. "Yeah?"
"The glitter." His mouth did that almost-smile thing again. "It suits you."
Then he was walking away, following Ajax's enthusiastic waving, leaving Enid standing in the commissary doorway with her face on fire and her heart doing gymnastics.
Yoko appeared at her elbow. "Well."
"Don't," Enid said preemptively.
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"Yes you were."
"I was just going to observe—" Yoko paused. "—that he's not what I expected."
Enid turned to look at her roommate. Yoko's expression was thoughtful behind her dark sunglasses, her usual cool assessment softened by something that might have been reconsideration.
"What did you expect?" Enid asked quietly.
"Someone scarier." Yoko tilted her head. "He's just... careful. And he protected you from that pack moment without making it obvious."
"I told you he wasn't dangerous."
"I didn't say he wasn't dangerous." Yoko started walking toward their first class. "I said he was careful. Those aren't the same thing."
Enid followed, her schedule clutched in one hand and her heart still racing. "But you'll give him a chance?"
Yoko was quiet for a long moment. Then: "I'm observing. Which, despite your protests, is a valid form of information gathering."
"But you're not shutting down the possibility that he's actually good?"
"I'm..." Yoko sighed. "I'm observing. Ask me again after I've seen him in more situations."
It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no either. And given Yoko's protective streak and whatever intel she'd gathered last night, Enid decided to count it as progress.
They turned the corner toward the classrooms, and Enid touched the glitter on her temple one more time.
*It suits you.*
Three words. Quiet and almost shy, delivered like they'd escaped before Gabriel could stop them. Three words that made her feel seen and sparkly and stupidly, dangerously happy.
'Second period. Werewolf Reproduction. We have class together.'
Enid couldn't wait.
---
Gabriel's POV
Advanced Physics occupied a corner classroom with tall windows that let in too much light. Gabriel chose a seat in the second row—close enough to demonstrate attention, far enough back to avoid unwanted scrutiny.
And then Ajax wove through the desks with zero regard for personal space, dropping into the seat directly beside Gabriel despite having the entire classroom to choose from.
The classroom filled slowly. Students Gabriel didn't recognize, mostly upperclassmen judging by their ease with the space. A girl with blue-streaked hair. Two boys comparing graphing calculators. Someone who smelled faintly of sulfur—probably a pyro.
"Physics!" Ajax announced, like Gabriel hadn't heard of it for the nth time. "We have physics together! This is great!"
"It's a class," Gabriel said, pulling out his notebook. Clean pages. Sharp pencil. Everything in order.
"Yeah, but now it's a class with BOTH of us." Ajax dumped his bag on the floor with a thump. "This is gonna be fun."
"Physics isn't supposed to be fun. It's supposed to be educational."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive, my friend." Ajax leaned back in his chair, balancing on two legs in a way that defied several laws of physics they'd probably cover this semester. "Besides, everything's more fun with friends."
The word landed with unexpected weight. *Friends.* Gabriel had tolerable roommates. Ajax could probably be counted as one, after invading their room a few times already. People who sat with him at breakfast. A to be lab partner. But Ajax kept using that word with such casual certainty, like it was already established fact rather than something Gabriel was still processing.
'Three days ago I had no one. Now I have... friends?'
The teacher entered—a tall woman with sharp features and an aura of barely contained impatience. She wrote her name on the board in precise capital letters: DR. SHAW.
"Advanced Physics," she said without preamble. "If you're not supposed to be here, leave now."
No one moved.
"Good. This course covers mechanics, thermodynamics, electromagnetism, and quantum theory as applied to outcast abilities." Dr. Shaw's gaze swept the room. "I expect rigor. I expect punctuality. I expect you to actually understand the material, not just memorize formulas."
Gabriel straightened slightly. This was his element—precision, logic, rules that didn't change based on emotion or social dynamics. Physics was predictable. Numbers were safe.
'Alaric drilled this into me. Mathematics as mental discipline. Focus on the concrete when everything else spirals.'
Dr. Shaw launched into her opening lecture, and Gabriel's pencil moved across the page in neat, controlled strokes. He noted formulas, drew careful diagrams, marked key concepts with small stars. His handwriting was flawless—each letter precisely formed, each line straight.
Beside him, Ajax was also taking notes. Sort of. His handwriting sprawled across the page in enthusiastic loops and arrows, with occasional doodles in the margins—a stick figure, a tiny explosion, what might have been a dragon.
Twenty minutes into class, Gabriel felt something hit his notebook.
He glanced down.
A paper airplane. Expertly folded, sitting primly on top of his notes about Newton's laws.
Gabriel looked at Ajax. Ajax was studiously facing forward, the picture of innocent attention, but his mouth was twitching.
'He's proud of himself. He actually warned me he'd do this.'
Gabriel unfolded the airplane with careful precision, smoothing out the creases.
*Lunch plans? Commissary pizza again? - A*
Gabriel considered ignoring it. Considered the fact that passing notes in class was childish and inefficient. Considered that Dr. Shaw looked like the type of teacher who would make an example of note-passers.
Then he picked up his pencil and wrote: *We had pizza Saturday.*
He refolded the airplane—less expertly than Ajax's original work—and waited until Dr. Shaw turned to write on the board. Then he launched it.
The plane wobbled through the air, landed on Ajax's note with a soft *thwap*.
Ajax grinned like Gabriel had just handed him a gift. He unfolded it, read Gabriel's response, and immediately started writing something new.
Dr. Shaw droned on about force vectors. Gabriel copied down a formula. The airplane returned.
*Your point??? Also the WHOLE gang is coming. Including Glitter Girl 😏*
Gabriel's jaw tightened. He could feel Ajax watching his reaction from the corner of his eye.
'Don't engage. Don't give him the satisfaction of—'
His pencil was already moving: *Don't call her that.*
The airplane flew back. Ajax opened it, wrote something, grinned wider.
The return message came quickly: *Why? You don't like her nickname? Or you don't like that I'm using it? 🤔*
Gabriel stared at the paper. At Ajax's knowing emoji. At the implication that was both accurate and entirely too perceptive for someone who'd known him for two days.
He crumpled the paper.
But he was fighting a smile. The traitorous expression was trying to form despite his best efforts, his mouth twitching at the corners.
Gabriel smoothed out a fresh piece of paper—wasting paper on this was inefficient, but apparently he was doing it anyway—and wrote: *Focus on physics.*
He didn't bother refolding it into an airplane. Just leaned over and dropped it on Ajax's note.
Ajax read it, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. He gave Gabriel a thumbs up and, miraculously, actually started paying attention to the lecture.
Gabriel returned to his notes, copying down information about conservation of momentum, trying to ignore the warmth in his chest that felt suspiciously like amusement.
Another airplane landed on his desk.
Gabriel sighed and unfolded it.
*But seriously. Pizza. Lunch. Say yes or I'll keep throwing things.*
Gabriel wrote back: *That's extortion.*
Return message: *That's FRIENDSHIP. Also you didn't say no. 😁*
'He's going to keep going until I respond properly. That's just... who he is.'
Gabriel considered his options. He could ignore it and deal with more airplanes. He could say no and face Ajax's disappointed puppy expression at lunch anyway. Or he could—
*Fine.*
He passed it back. Ajax opened it, pumped his fist in silent victory, and finally—*finally*—returned his attention to Dr. Shaw's lecture.
The rest of the class passed in relative peace. Gabriel took detailed notes on energy transfer and thermodynamic systems. Ajax managed to both pay attention and draw increasingly elaborate doodles in his margins. Dr. Shaw assigned reading and a problem set due Wednesday.
The bell rang.
Gabriel closed his notebook with careful precision, stacking his papers neatly. Beside him, Ajax shoved everything into his bag with cheerful chaos.
"So!" Ajax said as they stood, joining the flow of students toward the door. "Pizza! Lunch! The whole gang!"
"You said that already. Multiple times." Gabriel adjusted his bag strap, following Ajax into the crowded hallway.
"Yeah, but now you've agreed! It's happening! You're committed!" Ajax bounced slightly as he walked. "And before you say it's just lunch—it's NOT just lunch. It's SOCIAL BONDING."
"It's food consumption in proximity to other people."
"That's what social bonding IS, my dude." Ajax grinned. "Plus, you're totally not excited to see Enid again."
Gabriel's stride hitched—barely perceptible, but enough that Ajax noticed. Of course he noticed. Ajax noticed everything through sheer force of enthusiasm.
"I'm going to see her in second period," Gabriel said, keeping his voice flat.
"Oh RIGHT!" Ajax's grin went nuclear.
"'Oh right' what?" Gabriel walked faster.
"Nothing~" Ajax jogged to keep up.
Gabriel was definitely walking faster now, but Ajax was persistent.
"You're blushing!"
"I'm not—" Gabriel stopped himself. 'Don't engage. That's what he wants. Engagement.'
Ajax laughed, delighted. "You TOTALLY are! Your ears are red!"
"My ears are not—" Gabriel caught himself again. 'Stop. Stop giving him ammunition.'
They'd reached the hallway intersection where they needed to split—Ajax toward whatever class he had next, Gabriel toward the Werewolf Reproduction classroom for his second period.
"See you at lunch!" Ajax called, already backing away. "With the WHOLE gang! AND ENID!"
"You're an idiot," Gabriel said, but there was no heat in it.
"Yeah, but I'm YOUR idiot!" Ajax waved enthusiastically. "See you at twelve-thirty! Don't be late! Actually, you're never late. Be on time, which you will be! GLITTER FORCE ASSEMBLE!"
Then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd with that same boundless energy he brought to everything.
---
Gabriel's POV
The classroom smelled like old paper and anxiety.
Gabriel slid into a seat near the middle—not front row where eager students sat, not back row where troublemakers clustered. Middle meant unremarkable. Middle meant invisible. Middle meant safe.
'Except you're not invisible anymore. Everyone saw you at breakfast. Sitting with them.'
The thought came with an uncomfortable twist in his chest. Three days ago, sitting with people would have been unthinkable. Now it was... routine? Expected? Something that made Enid's face light up when he agreed to lunch?
'Stop. Focus. This is just a class.'
Other students filed in, and Gabriel tracked them with the peripheral awareness Alaric had drilled into him. Two werewolf girls he didn't know, whispering. A boy with the telltale lean build of someone who'd transformed young. Another pair comparing schedules.
And then—
Enid burst through the doorway like a small, colorful explosion.
Her rainbow backpack bounced against her shoulders as she scanned the room, and Gabriel watched her face shift through expressions in rapid succession: nervous determination, quick assessment, then that bright recognition when her eyes found him.
'She's looking for me. She saw me and her whole face—'
"Hi!" Enid was suddenly there, sliding into the seat next to him with that same easy boldness she'd shown at breakfast. "Looks like we made it!"
Gabriel's brain took a moment to catch up with her proximity. She smelled like lavender and that persistent glitter—sweet and bright and completely at odds with the clinical classroom atmosphere.
"It's nine o'clock," he said, which was accurate but possibly not what she was looking for based on her small laugh.
"Right! Yes! Very punctual!" She dropped her bag with a soft thump, pulling out an explosion of colorful pens and a notebook covered in stickers. "I'm always early to first-day classes. Well, not always. Sometimes I'm late. But I tried really hard today to be early because—" She cut herself off. "I'm rambling again."
"It's fine." Gabriel watched her arrange her pens in a rainbow gradient, each one precisely aligned. 'She orders them by color.'
"You don't have to say it's fine if it's annoying," Enid said, but she was smiling. "Yoko says I should work on my filter."
"Yoko seems to say a lot of things." The words came out before Gabriel could consider them, dry and almost teasing.
Enid's laugh was surprised and delighted. "She does! She has Opinions with a capital O."
The classroom continued filling. Gabriel noted two more werewolves entering—both he didn't recognize. They glanced at him, then at Enid, then deliberately chose seats on the opposite side of the room.
'Standard. Expected.'
"Gabriel?"
He blinked back into focus. Enid was watching him with that particular expression she got—the one that said she was cataloging details and drawing conclusions. "Yes?"
"You tensed up. When those guys came in." She kept her voice low, concerned. "Are they—"
"It's nothing." Gabriel straightened his already-straight notebook. "Just... awareness."
'Don't make it her problem. Don't—'
"If they're jerks, you can tell me." Enid's jaw had set in a way that would probably be intimidating if she weren't five-foot-three and wearing a scrunchie with googly eyes on it. "I can handle jerks."
Something warm flickered in Gabriel's chest. She was defending him. Small, glitter-covered Enid Sinclair was ready to take on other werewolves because they'd looked at him wrong.
'She has no idea. No idea what she's—'
The door at the front of the classroom opened, and Professor Harker strode in.
He was tall, angular, with the kind of presence that demanded attention without requiring volume. His dark hair was swept back from a sharp-featured face, and when he smiled at the class, Gabriel caught the brief flash of pronounced canines.
'Vampire. Of course. They always assign vampire professors to werewolf courses. Neutral observers.'
"Good morning." Professor Harker's voice was smooth, cultured, with a faint accent Gabriel couldn't place. "Welcome to Werewolf Reproduction. I'm Professor Harker, and before anyone asks—yes, I see the irony of a vampire teaching a werewolf course. The administration has a sense of humor."
A few nervous laughs rippled through the room.
"This semester, we'll be covering transformation mechanics, lunar cycle influences, pack dynamics, and the biological foundations of werewolf inheritance." Professor Harker leaned against his desk, casual but commanding. "You'll also be working in lab partnerships for the duration of the course."
Gabriel felt Enid sit up straighter beside him.
Professor Harker then announced. "Work with whoever's sitting next to you."
"Yes!" Enid's whisper was gleeful.
Gabriel's entire awareness had narrowed to the girl beside him, who was now beaming like she'd won something instead of being randomly assigned to work with the school pariah.
'She's happy about this. Actually happy.'
"Partners, I want to start with a baseline assessment of your current knowledge." Professor Harker said.
'This is fine. It's just academic partnership. That's normal. That's allowed. We also planned to be partners in Botanical Science.'
Enid scooted her chair slightly closer, angling her notebook so they could both see. "Ready, partner?"
The word did something strange to Gabriel's pulse.
"Ready," he confirmed.
Professor Harker launched into his lesson, and Gabriel found himself falling into the familiar rhythm of note-taking. His handwriting was precise, clinical—each letter perfectly formed, each line straight. Alaric's training had covered botanical applications, yes, but also anatomy. Physiology. The mechanical understanding of transformation as a biological process rather than a mystical one.
Beside him, Enid's notes were chaos in rainbow colors.
She used pink for main concepts, blue for examples, purple for questions. She drew little stars next to important points and added tiny sketches in the margins—a moon, a paw print, a simplified diagram of a transformation sequence that was technically inaccurate but somehow captured the essence better than clinical precision.
'Her notes are alive. Like her.'
"—the full moon is the primary transformation trigger for werewolves," Professor Harker was saying, writing on the board with sharp, precise movements. "When the moon is full, transformation is involuntary. You cannot choose whether or not to wolf out. However, you remain fully conscious during and after the transformation. You are still yourself—just in wolf form."
Gabriel's pen moved across his notebook, transcribing the information mechanically.
'Conscious. They stay conscious. They stay themselves.'
The words felt like a knife twisting. Every other werewolf in this room would transform and still be them. Still making choices. Still aware.
Not him.
"Training and discipline," Professor Harker continued, "help werewolves manage their transformations—controlling emotional responses, avoiding panic during the change, and maintaining composure in wolf form. The transformation is involuntary, but your mind, your choices, your self-control—those remain intact."
'Intact. What a concept.'
"Mr. Beoulve." Professor Harker's attention swung to him, sharp and assessing. "You look thoughtful. Care to share?"
Every eye in the classroom turned toward Gabriel.
His spine straightened automatically—Alaric's voice in his head: Speak with certainty. Show competence. Never let them see uncertainty.
"Preparation protocols are essential," Gabriel said, his voice steady and clinical. "Designated transformation locations minimize risk. Mental conditioning reduces panic responses. Physical training helps the body endure the stress of transformation more efficiently."
All true. All applicable to the standard werewolf experience Professor Harker was describing.
None of it applied to him.
Professor Harker's eyebrows rose slightly. "Spoken like someone who's done extensive research."
"My guardian is thorough."
'Thorough in preparing for something completely different than what you're teaching.'
A few students snickered. Gabriel ignored them. Beside him, Enid had gone very still, her pen hovering over her notebook.
When he glanced at her, she was watching him with that look again—the one that saw too much. The one that made connections.
'She heard the same words everyone else did. Why does she look like she heard something different?'
Professor Harker continued the lecture, moving into lunar cycle mechanics. Gabriel took notes automatically, copying down information about consciousness during transformation, about maintaining self-control in wolf form, about the "standard werewolf experience."
Around him, other werewolf students were nodding along, clearly familiar with what Professor Harker described. They'd all been through it. They all knew what it was like to transform and still be themselves.
Gabriel kept writing, each word a reminder of what he'd never have.
"Okay, partners." Professor Harker's voice cut through his spiral. "I want you to diagram the lunar cycle's effect on werewolf physiology. You have twenty minutes. Use your textbook as reference, but I'm looking for application, not regurgitation."
The room erupted into conversation as partners pulled out textbooks and started planning. Enid turned to Gabriel, her notebook already open to a fresh page.
"So," she said, selecting a blue pen. "Lunar cycle. That's... a lot of information."
"It follows a predictable pattern," Gabriel said, opening their shared textbook. "The phases build toward the full moon, then taper off."
'For them. For normal werewolves, it's predictable.'
"Right." Enid drew a circle in the center of her page, then looked at him. "You lead. I'll sketch what you're describing?"
"Start with the lunar phases. New moon at the top."
They fell into rhythm. Gabriel explained the textbook information—the biological mechanics that applied to every werewolf in the room except him. How lunar proximity affected werewolf physiology. How different phases triggered varying levels of physical enhancement. How the full moon compelled transformation while maintaining consciousness.
'Consciousness. They keep saying that word.'
Enid drew, her hands quick and sure, adding colors and labels and small notes in the margins.
"So during the waxing crescent—" Enid drew that phase, "—heightened senses but no transformation yet?"
"Correct. Enhanced hearing, improved night vision, increased physical strength. Early-stage changes."
'That part's the same, at least. The build-up is universal, even if what comes after isn't.'
"And by the first quarter?" She sketched the next phase.
"Restlessness. Increased energy. Some irritability as the moon's influence strengthens."
'Also universal. Everyone feels the pull. It's what happens when you answer it that makes me different.'
Enid's pen moved to the waxing gibbous phase. "This is when it gets really intense?"
"Seventy-two hours before the full moon, the physical symptoms intensify. Most werewolves begin preparing their transformation spaces." Gabriel kept his tone neutral, academic. "At Nevermore, that means reserving Lupen cages."
'Or in my case, the Lunar Sanctum. Reinforced doors. Containment protocols that go far beyond a simple cage.'
Enid drew the full moon with careful precision, making it larger than the other phases. "And then transformation."
"Inevitable at that point," Gabriel confirmed. "The body responds to peak lunar influence. Full transformation occurs."
'Where everyone else stays themselves, and I become something that doesn't even remember being human.'
"Have you—" Enid started, then stopped. "Sorry. That's probably personal."
"Every full moon since my change," Gabriel said simply.
He didn't elaborate. Didn't explain that his experience bore no resemblance to what Professor Harker had described.
'She's assuming I experience what Professor Harker described. Better to let her think that.'
Enid's hand had stilled on the page. "Does it hurt?"
'The transformation? Yes. Every second is agony—'
"The transformation process is intense," Gabriel said instead, choosing his words with surgical precision. "Proper preparation helps manage the experience."
"Proper preparation meaning...?"
"Secure location. Reinforced containment. Distance from anyone who might be at risk."
'Because I don't maintain control.'
"You mean people." Enid's voice had gone soft. "Distance from people."
Gabriel didn't confirm or deny. He just pointed to the waning gibbous phase. "After the full moon, physical exhaustion is significant. Recovery takes twenty-four to forty-eight hours depending on the individual."
Enid added that phase to her diagram, but her movements were slower now. More thoughtful. She'd heard something in his careful non-answers, even if she couldn't quite identify what.
They worked through the rest of the lunar cycle—waning phases, the new moon's minimal influence, the brief respite before the cycle began again. Their diagram took shape, becoming something that was part technical accuracy and part artistic interpretation.
Gabriel taught the standard werewolf experience with clinical precision.
His internal thoughts screamed the truth he couldn't say: None of this will ever be me.
"This is really good," Enid said, tilting her head to study their work. "Like, we actually understand this."
"You did most of the work." Gabriel gestured to her drawing. "The visualization makes it clearer."
"But you knew all the information! I just... made it colorful."
"Color helps. It creates associations. Makes the information more memorable." Gabriel realized he was explaining teaching theory and stopped. "It's good work."
Enid beamed at him—that full, bright smile that made her whole face light up. "We're good at this!"
'We are. How are we good at this?'
Around them, other partnerships were finishing up. Some diagrams looked polished and professional. Others were rushed sketches with minimal detail. Gabriel assessed their work against the competition and felt a small, unfamiliar sense of satisfaction.
'Ours is better. We worked well together. We—'
"Time!" Professor Harker called. "Put your pens down. I'll be walking around to assess your work."
He moved through the classroom with vampiric grace, pausing at each desk to examine diagrams. His comments were brief but specific—praising accuracy here, noting gaps there, asking clarifying questions.
When he reached Gabriel and Enid's desk, he paused longer than at the others.
"Interesting approach," he said, studying Enid's colorful moon phases and Gabriel's precise annotations. "The visual language is clear, and the technical details are accurate. Well done." He glanced between them. "You two work well together."
"Thank you, Professor," Enid said, trying and failing to contain her grin.
Gabriel just nodded, but something warm had settled in his chest.
Professor Harker moved on, and Enid immediately turned to Gabriel. "See? We're good at this! The professor said so!"
"He did." Gabriel allowed himself the smallest smile. "You ask good questions. That helps."
"Really?" Enid's expression was so genuinely pleased that Gabriel had to look away. "Because I was worried I was asking too much. Like, interrupting your thought process or whatever."
"You weren't interrupting. You were..." Gabriel searched for the right word. "Clarifying. Making sure we were aligned."
'Why is this so easy? Why does talking to her not feel like an interrogation or a threat assessment?'
The bell rang—sharp and intrusive. Students began packing up, the classroom filling with the sounds of zipping bags and scraping chairs.
Gabriel closed their textbook, his movements precise and deliberate. Enid gathered her rainbow pens, capping each one with careful attention.
"Same time Wednesday?" she asked, standing and slinging her rainbow backpack over one shoulder.
"It's our scheduled class." Gabriel stood as well, adjusting his bag strap.
"I know!" Enid laughed. "I just... wanted to make sure. That you'd be here. Which obviously you will be, because it's class, but—"
She stopped herself, biting her lip.
Gabriel recognized the pattern now. She rambled when she was nervous. Filled silence with words because quiet felt dangerous to her.
'Opposite of me. I use silence as armor. She uses words.'
They moved toward the door, joining the flow of students heading to their next classes. The hallway was crowded—bodies pressing close, voices overlapping, the general chaos of class changes.
Gabriel instinctively put himself between Enid and the worst of the crowd, using his height to create a small buffer. Not consciously deciding to do it, just... doing it.
'Alaric's training. Protection protocols. Don't let people get hurt in—'
"Oh!" Enid's voice cut through his analysis. "We should exchange numbers. For... lab partner questions."
Gabriel's thoughts screeched to a halt. "Numbers?"
"Phone numbers?" Enid was already reaching into her backpack, pulling out her phone—a case covered in glittery stickers and small cartoon wolves. "Like, if one of us has a question about homework. Or class readings. Or—" She waved a hand. "Lab partner stuff."
'She wants my number. She wants to be able to text me. That's... normal. That's what lab partners do.'
"Right," Gabriel said, which was not actually an answer.
But Enid was already holding out her hand expectantly. "Here, I'll just—"
Gabriel found himself pulling his phone from his pocket, handing it over. It was a reflex response to her confidence, her certainty that this was fine and normal and not complicated at all.
Enid took it with a bright smile, her thumbs flying over the screen. "Okay, so I'm putting in my number... and calling myself so I have yours..."
Gabriel's phone buzzed. Enid's phone started playing what sounded like a cheerful K-pop song.
"There!" She handed his phone back. "Now we're connected."
Gabriel looked at the screen. Her contact showed up as "Enid 🐺✨" with the wolf and sparkle emoji right there in her name.
'She added emojis. To her name. In my phone.'
"The emojis seemed appropriate," Enid said, clearly catching his expression. "Since we're both wolves. And lab partners. In Werewolf Reproduction." She paused. "I can change it if you want?"
"It's fine." Gabriel's thumb hovered over her name. "It's... appropriate."
'It's perfect. It's exactly what I would have expected from her. Colorful and enthusiastic and—'
"Great!" Enid's relief was visible. "Okay! So! You can text me if you need help with... lunar cycle diagrams or whatever."
"Right. Lunar cycles."
"Or anything else! Like if you—" Enid stopped, her cheeks going slightly pink. "I mean, about class. Class stuff."
They'd reached the hallway intersection where they needed to split—Enid toward Lunar Astronomy, Gabriel toward his free period.
"Same time Wednesday?" Enid asked again, adjusting her backpack strap.
"It's our scheduled class," Gabriel repeated, but his tone was gentler this time.
"I know! I just—" Enid laughed at herself. "I'm doing the confirmation thing again. Where I need verbal confirmation even though obviously you'll be there because it's class."
"I'll be there." Gabriel heard himself say it with more certainty than necessary. "I'll... see you at lunch?"
"Lunch! Yes!" Enid's face lit up again. "Probably with a pizza debate. Ajax seems to have strong feelings about toppings."
"He has strong feelings about everything."
"True." Enid started backing away, still facing him. "Okay! See you then! Don't forget to text if you—" She gestured vaguely. "—need anything!"
Then she spun around and hurried down the hallway, her rainbow backpack bouncing with each step.
Gabriel stood there for a moment longer than necessary, his phone still in his hand, her contact still on the screen.
Enid 🐺✨.
He saved the contact and slipped his phone back into his pocket.
The hallway was clearing now, students disappearing into their next classes. Gabriel should be heading to the library for his free period. Should be using the time productively. Should be—
His phone buzzed.
He pulled it out, heart doing something complicated.
Enid 🐺✨: Thanks for being a good lab partner! We're gonna ace this class! 😊✨
Gabriel stared at the text. The emoji. The enthusiasm packed into two short sentences. The assumption that they were a team now, that "we" was a thing that existed.
His thumb hovered over the keyboard.
He should respond. Something brief and appropriate. Lab partners texted each other. That was normal. That was—
But what did he say? "You're welcome"? "See you at lunch"? "Thanks for—"
'For what? For not being scared? For making class feel less like an obligation? For adding an emoji to your name in my phone like it was the most natural thing in the world?'
Gabriel locked his phone without responding.
He'd figure out what to say later. When his thoughts weren't this tangled. When he could be certain his response wouldn't reveal too much about how that simple text had made him feel.
'Later. I'll respond later.'
He headed toward the library, his phone a warm weight in his pocket, and tried not to think about how easy it had been. How natural. How much he'd... enjoyed it.
Sitting next to her. Working together. Watching her draw colorful moons while he explained transformation mechanics. The way she'd looked at him when Professor Harker praised their work—like they'd accomplished something together.
'This is dangerous. This feeling. This... comfort.'
But for once, walking through Nevermore's hallways with glitter still in his hair and a text from Enid on his phone, dangerous didn't feel quite as terrifying as it should.
The feeling lingered as he made his way across campus—warm, unfamiliar, a little reckless. By the time he reached the library, he'd convinced himself it would fade.
The library was quiet, which helped. Gabriel found a table in the corner—his usual preference—and pulled out his physics textbook. He had a free period. He should use it productively. Read ahead, maybe. Get started on that problem set.
His phone felt heavy in his pocket.
'Focus. Physics. Concrete problems with concrete solutions.'
He opened the textbook to the assigned chapter. Thermodynamics. Heat transfer. Energy conservation. Concepts he understood completely. Rules that made sense.
Not like social dynamics. Not like the way Ajax could read his reactions with annoying accuracy. Not like the warmth that had bloomed in his chest when Enid had asked for his number with such easy confidence.
'She acts like she's known me forever. Like it's simple. Like I'm not—'
Gabriel cut off that thought. He had work to do. Physics problems to solve. Concrete, logical, safe.
But his hand drifted to his pocket again, fingers finding the outline of his phone.
Thanks for being a good lab partner! We're gonna ace this class! 😊✨
The exclamation point. The emoji. The assumption that they'd ace the class together. She texted like she talked—bright and enthusiastic and completely unguarded.
Gabriel pulled out his phone. Stared at her message. His thumb hovered over the keyboard.
What did he say? What was the right balance between acknowledging her message and not revealing how much that simple text had affected him?
'You're overthinking. It's just a text. Just respond.'
But the cursor blinked at him, empty and waiting, and Gabriel's analytical mind spiraled through possibilities.
Too formal: Your assessment of our partnership is accurate.
Too casual: Yeah, totally!
Too revealing: I enjoyed working with you more than I expected.
'There has to be something. Something that's just... appropriate. Normal.'
His free period ticked away. Students came and went around him, studying or socializing or sleeping in the comfortable chairs. Gabriel sat frozen, staring at an empty text field, completely unable to form a response that felt right.
Finally, he locked his phone and put it away.
'Lunch. I'll see her at lunch. I can just... tell her then. That working together was fine. Good, even. That's normal. That's what lab partners do.'
But the phone stayed heavy in his pocket, and Enid's unanswered text felt like a weight he couldn't quite figure out how to lift.
Gabriel forced himself to focus on thermodynamics. Heat transfer equations. Energy conservation principles. Safe, predictable physics where every problem had a solution and every question had an answer.
Unlike whatever was happening with Enid Sinclair and her wolf and sparkle emojis and her easy assumption that they were a team now.
'Later. I'll deal with it later. At lunch. With the whole gang. Where Ajax will probably make it worse.'
Gabriel solved physics problems and tried not to count down the minutes until twelve-thirty.
He was mostly unsuccessful.