Today upload was supposed to be a single chapter. But this thing came out too long. Even splitting it into two was not enough so here we are.
Hope you guys liking the story so far. Sorry if the pacing is not up to your liking though. But it is what it is.
Thanks for the power stone but it would be better if you support another story with it. This is just me sharing what I like.
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Xavier's POV
Xavier's pencil moved across paper in smooth, deliberate strokes, capturing the curve of a hand reaching for something just out of frame. The sketch was taking shape—two hands, almost touching, suspended in that moment of anticipation before contact.
He'd seen that exact gesture earlier today. During breakfast when Gabriel and Enid had both reached for the salt.
'They're going to drive themselves crazy at this rate.'
His pencil stilled.'And Enid just joined our little rug tag group yesterday, maybe their encounter from Saturday and glittlers made it work.'
The dorm room was quiet except for the scratch of his pencil and the rustling of pages as Gabriel worked through homework at his desk. Ajax was sprawled on Gabriel's bed—because personal space was a foreign concept to him—doing absolutely nothing productive.
Xavier glanced up from his sketch.
Gabriel was staring at his phone.
Not obviously. Not in a way most people would notice. But Xavier had spent three days cataloging his roommate's microexpressions, and this was new. Gabriel's phone sat on his desk beside his open textbook, and every thirty seconds or so, Gabriel's eyes would flick toward it. Just for a second. Then back to his work.
Then back to his phone.
Then back to his work.
'Oh, this is going to be good.'
"Waiting for something?" Xavier asked mildly, not looking up from his sketch.
Gabriel's shoulders tensed. "No."
"Uh-huh." Xavier added shading to one of the hands, making it three-dimensional. "You've looked at your phone seventeen times in the last ten minutes."
"I haven't counted."
"I have." Xavier glanced up, meeting Gabriel's guarded expression. "You're waiting for a text."
"I'm not—"
"He's waiting to see if Enid will text again," Ajax supplied helpfully from the bed. "She sent him a cute message this morning and he never responded and now he's SPIRALING."
Gabriel's jaw tightened. "I'm not spiraling."
"You're definitely spiraling," Xavier said. "I can see it from here."
"I'm working on physics." Gabriel gestured to his textbook with forced calm. "That's not spiraling. That's being productive."
"While checking your phone every thirty seconds." Xavier set down his pencil, giving Gabriel his full attention. "Which suggests you're either expecting an important call or you're anxious about something."
"I'm not anxious."
Ajax snorted. "Dude. You're the human embodiment of anxiety right now. You're like... anxiety given form."
"That's not—" Gabriel stopped himself, apparently recognizing another losing battle. He picked up his pencil with deliberate precision. "I'm working."
Xavier exchanged a look with Ajax. His friend's eyes sparkled with mischief—the look that meant he was about to make things entertainingly worse.
'Here we go.'
"You know," Ajax said conversationally, "if you wanted to text Enid, you could just... text her."
"I don't need to text her. We share two classes. I'll also see her tomorrow."
"But you COULD text her. About homework. Or lab stuff. Or—" Ajax grinned "—to respond to her message from this morning."
Gabriel's hand tightened on his pencil. "I'll respond when I have something to say."
"Something to say?" Xavier tilted his head. "She said you were a good lab partner and that you'd ace the class. That seems like it requires acknowledgment."
"It was a statement, not a question. It doesn't require response."
"It was a friendly message that deserved a friendly response," Ajax corrected. "And you've been staring at your phone for four hours trying to figure out what to say."
"I haven't been—" Gabriel cut himself off. "It's been less than four hours."
"So you admit you've been thinking about it." Xavier returned to his sketch, adding detail to the second hand. "Interesting."
Gabriel made a frustrated sound. "You're both insufferable."
"Yeah, but we're YOUR insufferable roommates." Ajax sat up, radiating enthusiasm. "And as your friends, it's our duty to help you not be weird about texting!"
"I'm not being weird."
"You're being SO weird," Ajax said. "Like, aggressively weird. You've typed and deleted three messages that I've seen."
"You were watching me?"
"You're in the same room! It's not spying if you're right there!"
"Correction," Gabriel said, making a precise, sweeping gesture that encompassed both Xavier and himself. "You are in our room."
"Semantics." Ajax waved a dismissive hand, but he was grinning. "And rude."
Xavier hid his smile behind his sketchbook. This was better than afternoon art theory. Gabriel was fundamentally incapable of asking for help, but he desperately needed it. And Ajax was fundamentally incapable of not helping, even when help wasn't requested.
'They're perfect for each other. Terrible combination.'
"Okay," Ajax said, standing up with decision. "New plan. Group study!"
Gabriel looked suspicious. "What?"
"Group study! Common room! Tonight!" Ajax gestured enthusiastically. "We invite everyone, do homework together, it's GREAT for building friendships!"
"We just had lunch with everyone." Gabriel's tone suggested this was a reasonable objection.
"Right, but that was LUNCH. This is STUDY TIME. Completely different social context." Ajax was already pulling out his phone. "I'll text the group chat!"
"What group chat?" Gabriel asked warily.
"The one I made this during lunch!" Ajax's thumbs flew across his screen. "It's called 'Glitter Force Assemble' and it has all of us!"
"All of—" Gabriel's phone buzzed. He looked down at it with the expression of someone who'd just been betrayed. "You added me to a group chat?"
"No! I ask Enid to add you! How else would we coordinate?" Ajax's phone buzzed. "Oh, Xavier's in too! And—wait, why didn't you respond to any of the messages?"
"Because I didn't know I was in a group chat."
"You didn't notice the seventeen messages?"
"I muted notifications."
Ajax looked genuinely wounded. "You muted us?"
"I mute everything." Gabriel was scrolling through his phone now, apparently discovering an entire day's worth of group chat messages. "This is... extensive."
"We're thorough communicators." Ajax grinned. "Anyway! Group study! I'm texting now!"
"Wait—" Gabriel started, but Ajax was already typing.
Xavier watched Gabriel's face as realization set in. His roommate had gone from guarded to resigned to something that looked almost like panic.
'He can't handle the prospect of group study. Or rather, he can't handle having to text Enid directly versus group context.'
"There!" Ajax announced. "Sent! Group study, seven PM, Caliban common room!"
Gabriel's phone buzzed again. Then again. Then again.
Xavier could see the messages reflected in Gabriel's eyes—responses coming in rapid succession. Enid's would be among them, probably enthusiastic and immediate.
"This is unnecessary," Gabriel said, but his voice lacked conviction.
"It's NECESSARY," Ajax corrected. "We have homework! We have friends! Why not combine them?!"
"Because—" Gabriel seemed to be searching for a logical objection. "Because the common room is technically shared space and might be occupied."
"Then we'll share it with whoever's there! That's what 'common' means!" Ajax flopped back on Gabriel's bed. "Besides, you PROMISED Enid you'd text her."
"I said I would text her. I didn't specify when."
"She said 'text me if you have questions' and you have TONS of questions!" Ajax gestured emphatically. "Like... homework questions! Study questions! Lab partner questions!"
"I don't have questions about—"
"You have questions," Xavier said quietly. Not about homework. But Ajax had inadvertently stumbled into something true—Gabriel did have questions. Just not the kind you asked via text.
Gabriel met Xavier's eyes, and something in his expression shifted. Recognition. Being seen.
'He knows I know. And he knows I'm not going to push. Just... observe.'
"The study session is a good idea," Xavier said, returning to his sketch. "Homework in company. Very normal."
"See?" Ajax bounced upright. "Xavier agrees! And Xavier's the reasonable one!"
"I'm not sure that's—" Xavier started.
"You're totally the reasonable one. Gabriel's the intense one, I'm the fun one, you're the reasonable one." Ajax checked his phone. "Oh! Responses! Yoko says maybe, Enid says—" He stopped, grinning. "Enid says 'Yes!! I'll bring snacks! 😊'"
Gabriel had gone very still.
"She's bringing snacks," Ajax said unnecessarily. "And she used two exclamation points. That's enthusiasm."
"I can read," Gabriel said flatly.
"Can you though? Because you still haven't RESPONDED to her morning text." Ajax leaned forward. "Dude. Just acknowledge her existence. Type literally anything. 'Sounds good' counts as a message."
Gabriel stared at his phone like it was a bomb that might explode. His thumb hovered over the screen.
Xavier could practically see the mental calculations happening. The analysis paralysis.
'He's overthinking. He always overthinks. But this time it matters to him, so he's overthinking worse.'
"You know what your problem is?" Ajax said, apparently deciding subtlety was overrated. "You care too much about saying the perfect thing. Just say SOMETHING. Enid doesn't care if it's perfect. She just wants to know you're thinking about her."
"I'm not—" Gabriel stopped. His ears had gone red. "This is homework coordination. Not personal communication."
"It's both!" Ajax sprawled across Gabriel's bed in a dramatic pose. "That's what makes it FUN! You get to do homework AND see your friends AND maybe accidentally flirt without meaning to!"
"I don't flirt."
"You absolutely flirt. You just call it 'lab partner interaction' and pretend it doesn't count."
Gabriel looked like he wanted to argue, but Ajax's phone buzzed again, cutting him off.
"Oh! Xavier says he's in!" Ajax looked up. "Wait, you didn't actually respond in the chat."
"I'm sitting right here," Xavier said. "Why would I text when I can speak?"
"Because it's POLITE GROUP CHAT ETIQUETTE."
"I'll text when you're not in the room."
Ajax muttered something about "generational differences" despite being the same age, but his attention had already returned to Gabriel. "Okay, so! Everyone's coming! Seven PM! Which means you have—" he checked his watch dramatically "—two and a half hours to figure out what to say to Enid!"
"I don't need two and a half hours to—"
"You need AT LEAST two and a half hours based on this morning's performance." Ajax stood, stretching. "I'm gonna go grab food before the study session. Xavier, you want anything?"
"I'm fine." Xavier was adding final details to his sketch—the space between the hands, the tension in that almost-touch.
"Cool. Gabriel, you want—"
"No."
"Great! Be back in twenty!" Ajax grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "Don't do anything productive while I'm gone! Just stare at your phone and spiral!"
Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a solid thunk.
The room settled into quieter stillness. Xavier's pencil scratched against paper. Gabriel's textbook pages rustled as he tried to return to studying. Neither of them mentioned the elephant in the room.
Xavier gave it two minutes.
"You could just send a simple acknowledgment," he said without looking up. "Reply to the group chat. Everyone will see it including her. No direct pressure."
Gabriel was quiet for a long moment. Then: "What would I say?"
'And there it is. He's asking for help without asking.'
Xavier set down his pencil, considering. "What do you want to say?"
"That's the problem. I don't know."
"What's stopping you?"
Gabriel's hands had curled into loose fists on his desk. "Every response I draft sounds wrong. Too formal. Too casual. Too revealing."
"Revealing of what?"
"That I—" Gabriel cut himself off. "That this matters more than it should."
Xavier nodded slowly. 'Honesty. Actual honesty. That's progress.'
"What if—" Xavier pulled out his phone, opening it to a blank text. "What if you just respond to the group chat? Something simple. 'Study group 7 PM common room' or similar. Factual, neutral, group-directed."
"That's just repeating information they already have."
"That's group chat protocol. Someone proposes something, others confirm. It's normal." Xavier watched Gabriel process this. "And then Enid sees you responded. No direct pressure, no need for personal disclosure. Just... participation."
Gabriel stared at his phone. Xavier could see him running the calculations—weighing risks, analyzing social dynamics, trying to find the safest path through emotional complexity.
'He's terrified. Not of Enid. Of wanting something.'
Finally, Gabriel picked up his phone. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard.
Typed something.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
Deleted it.
"Gabriel."
His roommate looked up, expression carefully neutral but eyes revealing strain.
"Just type: 'I'll be there.'" Xavier said it gently. "Three words. Factual statement. You're confirming attendance, which is what group chats are for."
Gabriel looked back at his phone. Typed slowly, deliberately.
Then, with the air of someone jumping off a cliff, he hit send.
His phone immediately started buzzing—responses coming in. Ajax with a gif of someone celebrating. Enid with an enthusiastic "Yay!!" and a party emoji. Yoko with a simple "👍".
Gabriel stared at the messages like they were written in a foreign language.
"See?" Xavier returned to his sketch. "Not so terrible."
"She responded in four seconds."
"She's enthusiastic. That's her baseline."
"With an exclamation point and an emoji."
"Again. Enthusiastic baseline." Xavier added shading to the negative space between the hands. "She's probably happy you responded."
Gabriel was quiet, still staring at his phone.
"I told her I'd text her," he said finally. "After Botanical Sciences. She asked me to text if I had questions and I said I would."
"And?"
"And I haven't. Because every attempt sounds—" Gabriel gestured vaguely. "Wrong."
Xavier understood. Gabriel's analytical mind could solve physics problems and identify carnivorous plant species, but simple human connection created paralysis. Too many variables. Too many ways to fail.
"What if—" Xavier chose his words carefully. "What if you just responded to her morning text? Now? Before the study session?"
"What would I say?"
"What did she say to you?"
Gabriel scrolled back in his messages, finding Enid's text. "'Thanks for being a good lab partner! We're gonna ace this class!' with a smiley face and sparkles."
"So respond to that. Acknowledge her assessment."
"How?"
Xavier sighed. This was like teaching someone to swim by describing water. "Type: 'You're a good lab partner too.' Four words. Reciprocal statement. Done."
Gabriel stared at his phone. Then at Xavier. Then back at his phone.
"That's too simple."
"It's exactly the right amount of simple."
"She used enthusiastic punctuation. If I just say four words with a period, it looks—"
"Like you're being genuine and straightforward, which is your communication style." Xavier set down his pencil entirely, giving Gabriel his full attention. "Enid knows you. She figured out 'Gabriel-speak', as she calls it, in less than two days. She doesn't expect you to match her enthusiasm. She expects you to be you."
"She called it Gabriel-speak?"
"Apparently she's fluent now. Made a whole thing about it in Botanical Sciences according to what you're not telling me."
Gabriel's ears went red again. "We were just—she makes observations. About communication patterns."
"She's decoding you." Xavier smiled slightly. "And you're letting her. That's progress."
"That's terrifying."
"Same thing sometimes." Xavier gestured to the phone. "Text her. Keep it simple. She'll understand what you mean even if you don't use exclamation points."
Gabriel looked at his phone for a long moment. Then he started typing.
Slowly.
Carefully.
His thumb hovered over send.
"It's just a text," Xavier said quietly. "It's not a confession. It's not a commitment. It's just acknowledgment that she exists and you appreciate her existence."
Gabriel hit send before he could overthink it further.
The response came within seconds. Xavier couldn't see what Enid wrote, but he could see Gabriel's face—the way his expression softened slightly, the tiny curve at the corner of his mouth that meant he was fighting a smile.
"She responded?" Xavier asked unnecessarily.
"She said—" Gabriel stopped, his ears still red. "She's excited about the study session."
"I'm sure she used multiple exclamation points."
"Three."
"That's practically restrained for Enid." Xavier picked up his pencil again, satisfied. "See? Not so terrible."
Gabriel set his phone down with careful precision, but Xavier noticed he didn't turn it face-down. Didn't put it away. Just left it there on his desk where he could see if more messages came in.
'Progress. Small, terrifying progress.'
They worked in comfortable silence for a while—Xavier sketching, Gabriel actually focusing on his physics homework now that the text situation had been resolved. The afternoon light shifted through their window, painting the room in gold.
Ajax returned with food and more enthusiasm, immediately checking the group chat and celebrating Gabriel's participation with unnecessary vigor. Xavier sketched the energy of it—Ajax's animated gestures, Gabriel's resigned tolerance, the way their room had gone from isolation chamber to something that felt almost like home.
By six-thirty, they were gathering materials for the study session. Textbooks, notebooks, Gabriel's espresso machine that Ajax insisted was essential.
"Do we need the machine?" Gabriel asked, holding the equipment with obvious reluctance.
"YES," Ajax said emphatically. "You make good coffee. Enid likes your coffee. Therefore, coffee machine."
"That's not—"
"That's EXACTLY the logic. Don't fight it."
Gabriel looked to Xavier for support. Xavier just shrugged. "He's not wrong about the coffee. You do make good coffee."
"I make adequate coffee."
"You make excellent coffee and Enid's face lights up when you hand her a cup." Xavier closed his sketchbook. "Ajax is right. Bring the machine."
Gabriel muttered something about "unnecessary complications" but packed the espresso machine anyway.
They headed toward the common room—Ajax bouncing with energy, Gabriel carrying equipment with careful precision, Xavier observing the whole dynamic with artist's interest.
'This is going to be interesting. Group study with romantic tension neither of them is acknowledging. Perfect subject matter.'
Xavier's fingers itched for his sketchbook already.
---
Gabriel's POV
The common room smelled like old furniture and teenage habitation—a mix of worn leather, dust, and the faint chemical scent of whatever cleaning solution the school used. Gabriel set his espresso machine on the side table with careful precision, Xavier and Ajax flanking him like an honor guard.
'This is unnecessary. We could have studied separately. This is—'
The door opened.
Enid tumbled through first, her rainbow backpack bouncing against her shoulders and her arms full of an absurd quantity of snacks. Chips, cookies, candy, what looked like an entire bag of gummy bears. She spotted their group and her face lit up with that bright, unguarded smile that made Gabriel's chest do complicated things.
"Hi!" She practically bounced over to them. "I brought snacks! I might have gone overboard but I wasn't sure what everyone liked so I got variety!"
Behind her, Yoko entered with significantly less enthusiasm, her blackout sunglasses still in place despite the evening hour. She carried a single blood pack and an expression that suggested this whole endeavor was questionable at best.
"You brought like the half of vending machine," Yoko observed.
"I brought OPTIONS." Enid set her snack collection on the coffee table with a soft thump. "Options are important!"
Gabriel's phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn't need to check it to know it was probably Ajax in the group chat, making some comment about Enid's snack situation. Or Xavier being dryly amused. Or—
'Stop. Focus. This is just study. Normal study with people.'
"You brought the machine!" Enid had spotted the espresso equipment, her expression brightening even further. "Does that mean—"
"Study requires caffeine," Gabriel said, which was what he'd told Ajax earlier and sounded marginally less revealing than 'I brought it because you like my coffee.'
"You're the best lab partner ever." Enid was already unpacking her own materials—colorful notebooks, an explosion of pens, her laptop covered in stickers. "Seriously. Coffee AND good at carnivorous plants? You're like... the complete package."
Gabriel's brain stuttered over 'complete package' while Ajax made a sound that was definitely a poorly suppressed laugh.
'Don't engage. Just set up the machine. Normal coffee preparation.'
The common room was actually well-suited for group study. Worn couches arranged around a coffee table, a few armchairs scattered around the perimeter, decent lighting from floor lamps. The furniture had clearly seen better days, but it was comfortable—broken in rather than broken down.
Xavier claimed one end of the main couch, already pulling out his sketchbook. Ajax flopped into an armchair with zero regard for posture or dignity. Yoko chose a position across from Xavier, setting down her blood pack with delicate precision.
Which left Enid and Gabriel.
Enid had settled on the couch next to Xavier, leaving space beside her. Not obviously. Just... space. Like it was naturally his spot. Like they'd already established this pattern.
'Breakfast. Werewolf Reproduction. Lunch. Botanical Sciences. We keep ending up next to each other. Is that—'
"Gabriel?" Enid was looking at him, head tilted. "You okay? You kind of spaced out."
"I'm fine." Gabriel moved toward the couch, his body making the decision his brain was still processing. He sat down next to Enid—not too close, maintaining appropriate distance, but close enough that he could smell lavender and glitter.
'This is fine. This is normal study session seating.'
"Okay!" Ajax announced, pulling out absolutely zero study materials. "Who wants to start?"
"Start what?" Yoko asked dryly. "You didn't bring anything to study."
"I brought MORAL SUPPORT." Ajax grinned. "That's equally important!"
"That's absolutely not equally important," Xavier said, but his mouth was curving up.
Gabriel pulled out his physics textbook, determinedly focusing on concrete problems with concrete solutions. Not on the way Enid was arranging her rainbow pens in order. Not on how close she was sitting. Not on—
"Oh!" Enid leaned slightly toward him, and Gabriel caught a stronger whiff of lavender. "We should work on that Werewolf Reproduction diagram. The one Professor Harker assigned for Wednesday."
"Right. The transformation cycle diagram." Gabriel opened his notebook to the relevant page, where he'd already started preliminary sketches. "I was planning to expand on—"
"Oh my god, you've already started?" Enid peered at his notes. "Of course you've already started. You're THAT person."
"What person?"
"The person who does homework immediately instead of procrastinating like a normal human being." But Enid was smiling, pulling out her own notebook. "Okay, show me what you've got so far."
Gabriel found himself explaining his diagram approach—the same methodical breakdown he'd used in class, showing how each transformation phase connected to lunar cycles. Enid listened with focused attention, occasionally asking questions or adding her own colorful annotations to her notes.
'She does that thing. Where she actually listens. Not just waiting to talk, but actually processing.'
Across the coffee table, Ajax had pulled out his phone and was scrolling through something. Xavier was sketching—probably the group, judging by the way his eyes kept flicking up to observe them. Yoko sipped her blood pack and watched everyone with that assessing gaze she always had.
"Okay, but—" Enid tapped her pen against her notebook. "What about voluntary transformation? Like, outside the full moon?"
"That's Alpha territory." Gabriel kept his voice neutral, pointing to a section in the textbook. "Extremely rare. Alphas can transform outside lunar cycles, but it's dangerous."
Enid leaned in to read the passage. "Dangerous how?"
"Young Alphas risk getting stuck in wolf form. Permanently." Gabriel's pencil moved across his notes. "The voluntary transformation is powerful, but without proper training and maturity, the shift can become irreversible. The beast takes over completely."
"That's terrifying," Enid said quietly.
"It is, which is why even Alphas don't transform casually. The risk is too high until they're fully trained." Gabriel turned the page. "Alphas are also very rare. Most underwent their first shift during a blood moon. A typical werewolf, however, remains lunar-bound their entire lives."
'And some of us are just wrong.'
"So Alphas have this amazing ability but can't really use it safely when they're young?" Enid's pen traced circles on her notebook. "That's really sad. Like having a gift you can't open."
"It's a burden disguised as a gift," Gabriel said. "Power without control is dangerous. They are shunned and hunted by packs, branded as Harbingers of Chaos."
'I know that better than anyone.'
Enid was quiet for a moment, processing. Then: "What about regular werewolves during the full moon? Professor Harker said they stay conscious during transformation, right?"
"Yes." Gabriel kept his tone clinical, factual. "Standard werewolves transform involuntarily during the full moon, but they retain full awareness. They're still themselves—just in a different form."
"So they remember everything? They can make choices?"
"According to the research, yes." Gabriel's pencil moved across his notes with precise strokes. "The transformation itself is unavoidable, but consciousness remains intact throughout."
'For them. Just for them.'
"That must be... better, I guess?" Enid tilted her head. "If you're still you, I mean. Still making your own choices."
"The textbook suggests most werewolves find it manageable once they adjust to the experience." Gabriel turned a page. "Training helps with the physical pain. Mental preparation reduces panic responses."
He was being careful. Clinical. Talking about werewolves as a category, not about himself.
Enid seemed to catch the distance in his tone. She glanced at him, then back at her diagram, adding a note in pink pen.
"The professor made it sound pretty normal," she said. "Like, scary the first time, but then just... something that happens monthly."
"For most, yes."
There it was again. Most.
Enid's pen paused, but she didn't push. Just nodded and continued her colorful annotations about lunar cycles and transformation mechanics.
'She heard it. The qualifier. But she's not asking.'
Gabriel felt something loosen in his chest—gratitude, maybe, or relief. That she could hear what he wasn't saying but chose not to force the conversation.
"Okay!" Ajax's voice shattered the moment. "Coffee! Gabriel, you need to make coffee because I'm DYING without caffeine!"
"You had coffee two hours ago," Gabriel said.
"That was TWO HOURS AGO. I'm basically running on fumes!" Ajax gestured dramatically. "Also Enid needs coffee because she drinks the same thing as you which is ADORABLE."
"It's not adorable, it's a shared preference—" Enid started.
"Adorable," Ajax repeated firmly. "Xavier, back me up."
"You're on your own with this one," Xavier said, not looking up from his sketch.
Gabriel stood, grateful for the excuse to move. The espresso machine was already set up—he just needed to fill it with water, add the coffee grounds he'd brought from his stash.
'Normal activity. Make coffee. Don't think about what Enid knows and hasn't run. Don't think about—'
"Need help?" Enid had appeared beside him, because apparently personal space was not her strong suit.
"It's just coffee."
"Yeah, but you brought all this stuff. I could at least—" She gestured vaguely at the machine. "—be useful?"
"You can arrange the cups." Gabriel pulled out the small travel cups he'd packed. "There are five of us. Well, four. Yoko has—"
"Blood. Yeah." Enid started lining up cups with unnecessary precision, clearly trying to mirror his organizational style. "Does the order matter?"
"No."
"But if it did, what order would they go in?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Hypothetically."
Gabriel glanced at her. She was grinning—teasing him gently, trying to lighten the weight of their earlier conversation.
"Hypothetically," Gabriel said slowly, "largest to smallest based on desired coffee volume."
"See? The order DOES matter!" Enid rearranged the cups. "Okay, so Ajax probably wants the biggest cup because he has no concept of caffeine limits. Xavier seems moderate. Yoko doesn't get any. Which means you and me—" She held up two medium cups. "—are these."
"That's logical."
"I know! I'm learning Gabriel-style organization!" Enid set the cups down with obvious pride. "By next week I'll be color-coding things and making precise lists!"
"That sounds terrifying."
"Why? Because I'd be good at it and you'd have to acknowledge we have things in common?"
Gabriel's mouth twitched. "That's not—"
"It totally is. You're scared of having things in common with me because that would mean—" Enid stopped herself, her cheeks going pink. "Never mind. Coffee! Let's make coffee!"
'That would mean what? That we're friends? That we're similar? That this matters?'
The machine burbled to life, steam hissing. Gabriel focused on the mechanical process—water heating, pressure building, coffee extracting. Precise measurements. Controlled variables. Safe.
Enid watched the whole process with rapt attention, like coffee preparation was fascinating performance art.
"You're very precise about this," she observed.
"Coffee requires precision."
"Or you just like having control over something." Enid said it gently, without accusation.
Gabriel's hands stilled for just a moment. "Both can be true."
"Yeah." Enid leaned against the side table. "They can."
The first cup finished. Gabriel handed it to Enid before he could overthink it. "Quad espresso. Honey is—"
"In my bag! I brought some!" Enid bounced back to the couch, retrieving a small bottle of honey from her backpack. "I figured if we're doing study sessions regularly, I should bring supplies!"
'Regularly. She's assuming this will happen again. Multiple times. That this is—'
"Gabriel?" Xavier's voice, amused. "You're staring at the machine."
Gabriel blinked back into focus. Right. More coffee. Ajax's large cup. Xavier's medium. His own.
He delivered Ajax's cup first—his friend accepted it with exaggerated gratitude and immediate consumption. Xavier took his with a quiet thanks, setting it beside his sketchbook. Gabriel kept his own cup, black and simple.
Then he returned to the couch, sitting back down next to Enid.
She'd already added honey to her coffee, stirring it with a small stick she'd produced from somewhere. When she took a sip, her eyes closed briefly with appreciation.
"This is SO good," she said. "How do you make it taste like this?"
"It's just coffee."
"It's NOT just coffee. It's like... coffee but better. Special coffee." Enid took another sip. "You remembered the honey."
Gabriel had absolutely remembered the honey. He'd thought about it while packing the machine, while setting up, while making her cup first before anyone else's.
"You mentioned your preference," he said, which was true but not the whole truth.
"You REMEMBERED my preference." Enid's smile was bright and warm and completely unguarded. "That's... that's really nice."
Across the table, Xavier had definitely stopped sketching to observe them. Yoko's expression behind her sunglasses was unreadable but attentive. Ajax was grinning like Christmas had come early.
'They're watching. They're all watching and cataloging this and—'
"Okay!" Enid announced, apparently oblivious to the attention or choosing to ignore it. "Study time! Who's working on what?"
The group settled into actual work. Ajax pulled out homework he'd apparently been hiding in his bag—Gorgon Anatomy notes that made very little sense but he seemed committed to decoding. Xavier continued sketching but also worked on an art theory essay. Yoko had produced a leather-bound book about vampire genealogy that looked older than the school itself.
And Gabriel and Enid worked on their werewolf diagram together, their notebooks side by side on the coffee table, occasionally reaching for the same reference or pencil in unconscious synchronization.
"So if the waxing gibbous is here—" Enid pointed to her colorful diagram. "—then the transformation pressure is like... building?"
"Increasing proportionally to lunar proximity." Gabriel added detail to his own sketch. "By seventy-two hours before full moon, most werewolves experience an intensification of physical symptoms."
"But you use 'most' a lot. Like you're not including yourself in that category."
Gabriel's pencil paused. "I'm... an edge case."
"Because you can't resist it at all." Enid said it matter-of-factly, not questioning. Just... understanding.
"Yes."
"That must be scary."
Gabriel looked at her. She was still focused on her diagram, adding labels in pink pen, but her voice had been soft. Genuine.
"It is," he admitted quietly.
Enid glanced up, meeting his eyes. "Thanks for telling me."
"You already heard of it."
"Yeah, but you admitted it. That's different." She returned to her diagram. "That's trust."
The word landed heavy and significant. Trust. Such a simple concept that felt impossibly complicated when applied to himself.
'Trust means vulnerability. Vulnerability means danger. But she knows and she's still here and—'
"Gabriel, you're spiraling again," Enid said, not looking up. "I can see it from here."
"How?"
"Your pencil stopped moving and you have that look." She tapped her temple. "The one where you're having an internal crisis but trying to hide it."
"I don't have a look."
"You totally have a look. Xavier, back me up."
"He definitely has a look," Xavier confirmed, still sketching.
"It's very intense," Ajax added. "Like you're solving math problems but the math is existential dread."
Gabriel scowled at his roommates. "You're both useless."
"Yeah, but we're YOUR useless roommates!" Ajax raised his coffee in salute.
The conversation drifted into easier territory—complaints about homework, jokes about ridiculous class requirements, Ajax's ongoing campaign to prove pineapple pizza was valid. The common room filled with laughter and the comfortable chaos of friends existing together.
Gabriel worked on his diagram. Sipped his coffee. Occasionally answered Enid's questions or corrected her anatomical sketches with gentle precision. And tried not to think about how this felt.
Natural. Easy. Right.
'This is what I avoided. This exact thing. People seeing me and staying anyway.'
Around eight-thirty, the studying shifted into hanging out. Work was set aside in favor of snacks and conversation. Ajax dominated the discussion with increasingly ridiculous stories about his previous school. Xavier contributed dry observations that made everyone laugh. Yoko provided sarcastic commentary that was somehow affectionate.
And Enid—
Enid glowed with happiness, animated and bright, her energy filling the room like sunlight.
Gabriel watched her laugh at Ajax's jokes, debate pizza toppings with Xavier, engage in verbal sparring with Yoko. She belonged here. In this group. This space.
'And she keeps choosing to sit next to me.'
The thought was dangerous. Warm. Terrifying.
Enid caught him looking and smiled—just a small, private smile that felt like it was meant only for him.
"You good?" she asked quietly, under the cover of Ajax's loud storytelling.
"I'm—" Gabriel searched for the right word. "Present."
"Good." Enid's shoulder bumped his—brief contact, deliberately casual. "That's all you need to be."
The touch lingered even after she pulled away. Warmth spreading from that point of contact, radiating through Gabriel's chest.
'She touched me. On purpose. Casual and easy like it's normal. Like I'm—'
"Okay, tragic announcement!" Ajax proclaimed, checking his phone. "It's nine o'clock which means the girls need to leave before dorm checks."
"Already?" Enid looked genuinely disappointed. "But we were just—"
"Having fun?" Yoko stood, gathering her vampire genealogy book with smooth efficiency. "Yes. Which is exactly when things should end. Before they become tedious."
"You had fun," Enid accused. "I saw you almost smile. Twice."
"I don't smile. I acknowledge humor internally."
"That's the same thing!"
"It's really not."
They packed up their materials—notebooks, pens, the extensive snack collection that had been significantly depleted. Gabriel collected coffee cups, rinsing them in the common room's small sink.
When he returned, Enid was hovering by the door with Yoko, her rainbow backpack secured and her expression reluctant to leave.
"Thanks for the coffee," she said, directing it at Gabriel specifically. "Again."
"It's just—"
"Special coffee," Enid interrupted, grinning. "We've established this. Your coffee is special. Accept the compliment."
"It's adequate coffee with appropriate honey ratio."
"See?" Enid turned to the group. "Gabriel-speak. I'm fluent now. That means 'thank you, I'm glad you like it but I'm too proud to say so directly.'"
"That's not—" Gabriel started.
"It totally is!" Enid adjusted her backpack. "Okay, so same time tomorrow? For breakfast, I mean. And maybe Wednesday we can—"
"Study together after Botanical Sciences," Gabriel found himself saying. "For the cataloging project."
Enid's face lit up. "Yes! Perfect! Wednesday after class!"
"It's logical. We're lab partners. Coordinating work is efficient."
"Uh-huh. Very efficient. Super logical." But Enid was smiling like he'd just handed her something precious. "See you tomorrow, Gabriel."
"Tomorrow," he confirmed.
Then she and Yoko were leaving, Enid waving enthusiastically as they disappeared down the hallway.
The common room felt quieter without her energy.
Ajax immediately turned to Gabriel with a grin that promised nothing good. "Dude."
"Don't."
"DUDE."
"Ajax."
"She TOUCHED your arm!"
"She bumped my shoulder. That's different."
"Same general concept!" Ajax was practically vibrating. "Physical contact! Initiated by her! While you were being all broody and cute!"
"I'm not cute."
"You're adorable when you're trying not to care." Xavier closed his sketchbook with deliberate precision. "She knows it. We know it. You're the only one in denial."
Gabriel started packing up the espresso machine with more force than strictly necessary. "I'm not in denial. I'm being realistic. We're friends. Lab partners. That's—"
"More than you had four days ago," Xavier interrupted gently. "And more than you thought you'd ever have."
The truth of that statement settled heavy in Gabriel's chest.
Four days ago, he'd been planning perfect isolation. Now he was making coffee for five people and learning to identify when Enid was about to ramble and accepting that Ajax was going to tease him and that Xavier saw everything and somehow that was... okay.
'No. Not just okay. Good. This is good and that's terrifying.'
"Come on." Xavier stood, stretching. "Let's head back. It's late."
They gathered their materials and headed back toward their room—Ajax bouncing with residual energy, Xavier moving with artistic grace, Gabriel carrying his espresso machine like precious cargo.
Ajax peeled off toward Room 208 with a grin. "Best first day ever. Tomorrow's gonna top it!"
"Unlikely," Gabriel said dryly.
Xavier's mouth twitched in amusement. "That's the spirit."
When they reached Room 209, Gabriel set the machine down carefully on his desk. His phone buzzed.
Enid 🐺✨:That was really fun! Thanks for making coffee! You're the best lab partner/friend/coffee person ever! 😊✨
Gabriel stared at the text. At the three different identifiers she'd used. Lab partner. Friend. Coffee person.
'She called me friend. Like it's established. Like it's real.'
He typed back carefully: Glad you enjoyed it. See you tomorrow.
Then, because Xavier was right about reciprocal acknowledgment: You're a good friend too.
He hit send before he could overthink it further.
Enid's response came immediately: 🥺💕
Two emojis. No words. Just emotion distilled into digital shorthand.
Gabriel set his phone down and realized he was smiling.
Actually smiling. Not fighting it or hiding it or pretending it wasn't happening.
'This is what I avoided. This feeling. This warmth. This... connection.'
Xavier was already sketching again—probably capturing the evening's moments for his ever-growing visual record.
And Gabriel stood by his desk, phone still warm in his hand, glitter still in his hair, and felt something shift in his chest.
His isolation philosophy—the one Alaric had drilled into him, the one that had governed every decision for years—had a crack in it. A glitter-covered, lavender-scented, enthusiastically rambling crack that kept widening every time Enid smiled at him.
'Surviving alone is not the same as living.'
The thought had come yesterday during that moonlit walk. Now it was back, stronger and more insistent.
Maybe—just maybe—surviving alone had never been the point.
Maybe the point was learning how to live with people despite the danger. Despite the risk. Despite everything Alaric had taught him about safety through isolation.
'Or maybe I'm rationalizing. Making excuses. Letting walls crack when they should stay solid.'
But Enid had touched his shoulder on purpose. Had called him friend. Had smiled like his coffee was the best part of her day.
And Xavier had helped him text without judgment. And Ajax had made him laugh despite himself. And even Yoko had stayed, observing but not condemning.
Gabriel looked at his reflection in the darkened window. Glitter still sparkled in his hair—stubborn and persistent and refusing to wash out.
Just like the people who'd decided he was worth keeping around.
"You good?" Xavier asked from his bed.
Gabriel turned away from the window. "Yeah. I'm good."
And for the first time in recent memory, that wasn't a lie.
---
Enid's POV
Enid's face hurt from smiling.
She flopped backward onto her rainbow quilt with a happy sigh, her backpack sliding off her shoulder to land with a soft thump beside the bed. The dorm room smelled like Yoko's blood packs and the lavender sachets Enid had tucked into her dresser drawers. Familiar. Safe. Home.
'Best. Day. Ever.'
"You're doing the face thing again," Yoko said from her side of the room, setting down her vampire genealogy book with deliberate precision.
"What face thing?" Enid asked, already knowing the answer.
"The 'I had a really good day and I'm about to explode with feelings about it' face." Yoko's blackout sunglasses were finally off, revealing dark eyes that held a mix of amusement and resignation. "It's very loud. Your face is being very loud right now."
"My face has the right to be loud!" Enid sat up, hugging a pillow to her chest. "It was a REALLY good day!"
"I noticed." Yoko moved through her evening routine with vampiric efficiency. "You smiled approximately forty-seven times during the study session."
"You counted?!"
"I observe. That's what I do." Yoko pulled out her pajamas—simple black silk that matched everything else in her wardrobe. "And what I observed is that you're very happy. Which is good. I want you to be happy."
"But?" Enid prompted, because there was always a but with Yoko.
"But..." Yoko sat on her bed, facing Enid. "I also observed that Gabriel makes you happy. Specifically. More than the general group dynamic."
Enid's cheeks warmed. "He's my friend. Friends make each other happy."
"Enid."
"What?!"
"You bumped his shoulder. On purpose. While looking at him like—" Yoko gestured vaguely. "—like he hung the moon specifically for you."
"I didn't—" Enid stopped. She had bumped his shoulder. Deliberately. A casual touch that felt natural in the moment but now, under Yoko's knowing gaze, felt significant. "We're friends. Friends do that."
"Friends do." Yoko's expression was carefully neutral. "But the way you looked at him wasn't friendship. It was—"
"Don't say it."
"—interest. Romantic interest."
"YOKO."
"What?" Yoko stood, heading to their shared bathroom. "I'm stating observable facts. You like him. Not just as a friend. You like-like him."
Enid buried her face in her pillow. "I'm not twelve. We don't say 'like-like' when we're fifteen."
"Fine. You're romantically interested in Gabriel Beoulve." Yoko's voice carried from the bathroom where she was brushing her teeth. "Better?"
"No! Because—" Enid lifted her head. "Because it's complicated! He's my friend! My lab partner! We just started being friends! I can't just—" She gestured wildly. "—catch feelings immediately!"
"Too late." Yoko returned, toothbrush in hand. "You've definitely caught them."
"I haven't—" Enid stopped, really thinking about it.
The flutter in her chest when Gabriel walked into the commissary. The way she'd engineered sitting next to him at every opportunity. How she'd memorized his coffee order and brought honey to study sessions just in case. The shoulder bump that had been deliberate despite trying to play it casual.
'Oh no. Oh no no no.'
"You're having a realization," Yoko observed with obvious amusement. "I can see it happening in real time."
"I—" Enid clutched her pillow tighter. "Maybe I have a small crush. A tiny, insignificant, totally manageable crush."
"Uh-huh."
"It's not a big deal!"
"You brought honey to a study session."
"Because he likes his coffee with honey!"
"No. Because YOU like YOUR coffee with honey, and HE remembered your preference, and you wanted to make sure you could match his thoughtfulness." Yoko returned to brushing her teeth, her voice slightly muffled. "That's not small crush behavior. That's 'I'm actively invested in this person' behavior."
Enid flopped back on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
'Okay. Fine. Maybe it's not a small crush. Maybe it's a medium-sized crush. Or... a large crush. Or—'
Her phone buzzed.
She grabbed it immediately—too fast, definitely too fast—and her heart did a complete gymnastics routine when she saw Gabriel's name.
Gabriel Beoulve🐺🌑:Glad you enjoyed it. See you tomorrow.
Then, a few seconds later: You're a good friend too.
Enid's breath caught.
'He called me a good friend. He actually said it. With words. Not deflecting or being evasive. Just... said it.'
She typed back with shaking hands: 🥺💕
Then immediately regretted the emoji choice because that was way too much emotion for a simple friend acknowledgment and now he'd think she was weird and—
Yoko emerged from the bathroom. "You're panicking. I can hear your heartbeat from here."
"He called me a good friend!" Enid held up her phone like evidence. "Look! He said I'm a good friend!"
"That's... good?" Yoko's confusion was understandable. "Why is that panic-inducing?"
"Because I sent back heart emojis! Just hearts! With no words! What if he thinks—" Enid gestured frantically. "What if he thinks I'm being weird or too much or—"
"Enid." Yoko sat on Enid's bed, a rare moment of physical closeness. "Breathe. He knows you use excessive emojis. It's part of your communication style. He's not going to spiral because you sent hearts."
"Are you sure?"
"He's probably spiraling anyway because that's his communication style." Yoko's mouth curved slightly. "You two are very similar. Just opposite approaches. You over-communicate. He under-communicates. Both of you overthink everything."
"We're not—" Enid stopped. "Okay, maybe we are. A little bit."
"A lot." Yoko stood, moving back to her own bed. "But that's why you work. You push him to express things. He grounds you when you're spiraling. It's... complementary."
"You think we work?" Enid sat up, hope blooming in her chest. "Like, actually work? Together?"
Yoko was quiet for a long moment, her expression thoughtful. "I think... he's not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"Someone dangerous. Someone who was isolating because he wanted to hurt people." Yoko pulled back her covers with precise movements. "But that's not what I saw today. I saw someone who's isolating because he's afraid of hurting people. That's different."
"It is different!" Enid bounced slightly on her bed. "That's what I've been trying to tell you! He's not dangerous to us. He's protective of us!"
"I know." Yoko climbed into bed. "I watched him today. The way he made your coffee first. The way he positioned himself between you and the doorway traffic. The way he explained things to you with patience I didn't know he had."
"He's a good teacher," Enid said softly.
"He's careful with you." Yoko's dark eyes were serious. "That's what I noticed most. He's careful in a way that suggests you matter. A lot."
Enid's heart did that flutter thing again. "You think he—" She couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't voice the hope that was blooming dangerous and bright in her chest.
"I think he's terrified of whatever he's feeling." Yoko settled into her pillows. "But I also think he's feeling it anyway. Despite being terrified. Which takes courage."
"That's very... not cynical of you."
"I'm observing. Observation leads to accurate conclusions." Yoko slipped on her blackout sleep mask—her signal that conversation time was officially over. "Just... be careful, okay? Not because I think he'll hurt you on purpose. But because you're both very intense about your feelings and neither of you knows how to handle them properly."
"We're fifteen. Nobody knows how to handle feelings properly at fifteen."
"Fair point." Yoko's voice was already getting sleepy. "Goodnight, Enid."
"Night, Yoko."
Enid changed into her pajamas—purple with small wolves printed all over them, a gift from her mom that she'd initially found embarrassing but now kind of loved. She went through her evening routine on autopilot, her mind replaying the day in fragments.
Gabriel's almost-smile when she'd teased him about plant math.
The way he'd explained werewolf physiology like it was textbook information, protecting himself with clinical distance.
His admission that control was about fear. That facts were safer.
The coffee he'd made her—with honey, without asking, because he'd remembered.
The shoulder bump that had felt natural and right and significant all at once.
'You're a good friend too.'
Enid climbed into bed, pulling her rainbow quilt up to her chin. The fabric smelled like home and laundry detergent and that stubborn glitter that had become part of her life now.
She touched the glitter on her temple—still there, still refusing to wash out. Three days and it clung to her skin like it had decided to stay permanently.
'We match. We both have glitter. We're both carrying evidence of that first meeting.'
Her phone sat on her nightstand, Gabriel's text still glowing on the screen.
She should put it away. Should charge it and go to sleep and stop obsessing over four words and two emojis.
Instead, she read the text again. And again. Analyzing the word choice like it was a treasure map.
'Glad you enjoyed it.'—Simple acknowledgment. Basic politeness. But he'd said "glad" which implied he cared about her enjoyment.
'See you tomorrow.'—Statement of fact. They had class together. Lunch together. He'd be there. But he'd said it like confirmation. Like reassurance.
'You're a good friend too.'—This was the important one. The one that made her heart do acrobatics. Because he'd added "too." Reciprocal acknowledgment. He'd called her a good friend in return for her calling him one. That meant—
'That means he values the friendship. That he's actively choosing to be friends. That this matters to him.'
Enid hugged her pillow, grinning into the darkness of their dorm room.
Day three.
Three days since she'd literally fallen into him and exploded glitter everywhere. Three days since she'd seen him in that hallway and thought he looked lonely and interesting and like maybe he needed a friend.
Three days and now they were lab partners in two classes. Now they had inside jokes about Gabriel-speak and plant math. Now they sat next to each other at every meal and bumped shoulders during study sessions and texted with emojis.
'This is friendship. Good, solid, developing friendship.'
But Yoko's words echoed in her head: 'You're romantically interested.'
And the truth was—
The truth was that her heart didn't flutter like this for just friends. Didn't memorize coffee orders and bring honey and engineer seating arrangements and analyze four-word texts like they were coded messages.
The truth was that she'd noticed the silver glitter in his hair and thought it was beautiful. That his almost-smile made her feel like she'd won something precious. That his rare moments of vulnerability—admitting facts were safer, that he was an edge case, that control was about fear—made her want to protect him even though he was literally (base on rumors) the most dangerous person at Nevermore.
'I have feelings. Real, developing, terrifying feelings. For Gabriel Beoulve. Who is my friend and my lab partner and someone who is actively trying to learn how to be around people.'
The realization sat heavy and bright in her chest.
She couldn't tell him. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Because he was just learning how to have friends. Just starting to crack those walls. And the last thing he needed was her dumping complicated romantic feelings on him when friendship was already overwhelming.
'So I'll be his friend. His good friend. Who happens to have feelings but won't make it weird. I can do that. That's totally doable.'
Across the room, Yoko's breathing had evened out into sleep. The dorm was quiet except for distant sounds of other students settling in for the night.
Enid set her phone on her nightstand—screen down this time, resisting the urge to read Gabriel's text again—and closed her eyes.
Tomorrow they'd have breakfast. Maybe have another same class period. Lunch with the whole group. Maybe have the same fourth period.
Four times—maybe five—she'd see him tomorrow. A few chances to make him smile, to learn something new about him, or just… exist in his space while he existed in hers.
'Friends. We're friends. Good friends. Best friends, maybe. Eventually.'
But as Enid drifted toward sleep, rainbow quilt wrapped around her and glitter still sparkling on her temple, her last conscious thought was warmer and more dangerous than friendship.
'But maybe—someday—more than friends. When he's ready. When I'm ready. When this thing between us has room to grow into something bigger.'
For now, though, friendship was enough.
Friendship was everything.
And Gabriel Beoulve had called her a good friend with actual words and no deflection, which meant—
Which meant progress.
Which meant hope.
Which meant tomorrow would come with more moments to collect, more small victories to celebrate, more reasons to smile until her face hurt.
Enid smiled into her pillow one more time.
Day three.
Best day ever.