Aurora
Aurora could barely sleep.
Her mind raced back to the way she had stood outside Elias's door, whispering into the silence, praying he would open it. But he didn't. The cold walk home afterward was like a dream she didn't want to go to.
When morning came, she made a decision.
She wouldn't let him return to his shadows. Not again. Not after everything she had felt when he had played for her—when its music had washed over her like a confession, she was afraid to speak.
So when the lunch bell rang, Aurora headed straight for the one place she knew he might be hiding if he ever got to school: the old practice rooms in the west wing.
Most students avoided them—the hallway was dark, the doors creaked, and the rooms hadn't been renovated in years.
Aurora walked silently, her heart pounding.
Halfway down the hallway, she heard it.
A piano.
Weak. Broken.
Notes like rain.
Elias.
She stepped closer, pressing her hand against the old wood of the door.
He was playing something new. Something raw. Each note was like a heartbeat trying to find its rhythm again.
Aurora slowly pushed the door open.
"Elias?"
He didn't stop playing, but his shoulders stiffened.
"You shouldn't be looking for me here," he whispered, fingers trembling on the keys.
"You didn't answer my calls."
"I know."
"You didn't answer the door."
"I know."
Finally, he let the last note fade away.
The silence felt heavier than the music.
Aurora took a step closer to him. "Elias… why are you running away from me?"
He stared at the piano, not daring to look at her. "Because otherwise, I'll say something I can't take back."
"What if I want you to do the talking?" she whispered.
He backed away. "Don't. Please. Don't say things you didn't mean."
Aurora's voice cracked. "Why would you think I didn't mean it?"
"Because you're Aurora Hale."
"And I—" His voice cracked. "I'm worthless."
She stepped closer, bending down so she could look him in the eye. "Elias Verdan… you're not worthless."
He shook his head, his jaw set. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he squeezed them back shut.
"You don't know what it feels like," he said softly. "To love someone who shines so brightly that you're afraid you'll burn just by standing near them."
Aurora froze.
Elias didn't admit it directly.
But it was close—it hurt.
Before she could speak, the door swung open with a bang.
Aurora jumped.
Elias froze.
Adrian stood there, eyes blazing.
"What's really going on?" Adrian asked.
Aurora stood up. "Adrian, not now—"
"Actually, now is perfect," he whined. "Because I'm done pretending I don't see."
Elias slowly stood up, his face turning pale. "Adrian—"
"No," Adrian said sharply. "Stay out of this."
Elias's hands were clenched at his sides, but he didn't say anything.
Adrian turned to Aurora. "You left class to chase him. You left me reading. You're running to chase someone who won't even look you in the eye."
Aurora felt anger well up in her chest. "This is none of your business anymore."
"This is no longer the problem." Adrian came closer. "You broke up with me, and two days later you're secretly dating him?"
"That's not it!" Aurora shouted.
"Then what is it?" Adrian raised his hands. "What do you really want, Aurora?"
The question hit hard.
Aurora looked at Elias—silent, scared, and hurt.
What did he want?
Her voice softened, trembling. "I want... I want to understand him."
"That's all?" Adrian said with a smile. "Do you want a project? Someone fragile that you can fix?"
"No," she whispered. "I want him because he sees me. Not the version everyone expects. The real me."
Elias was stunned.
Adrian laughed bitterly. "You're unbelievable."
He moved closer to Elias. "I understand. You've been waiting for this for a long time, haven't you? Waiting for us to break up so you could move?"
Elias shook his head hard. "No—Adrian, I would never—"
"Save me." Adrian came closer, towering over him. "Do you think hiding in corners writing sad little songs is enough to get her? Do you think that's what she wants?"
"Stop it," Aurora hissed.
But Adrian wasn't listening.
"Look at him," Adrian said. "He can't even hold