She sat up slowly, feet touching the cool floor. The room was quiet except for the distant city noise and Max's soft breathing. Sunlight slipped through the curtains in pale stripes, resting on the walls like it didn't want to disturb her.
She dressed without thinking too much.
Simple clothes. Comfortable ones. Nothing that tried to prove anything. An oversized top, jeans worn soft from time, shoes she didn't have to worry about. She looked in the mirror only briefly — not to judge, just to check if she looked awake enough to exist.
She didn't care about looking perfect.
She cared about getting out.
University waited.
Mira waited.
And—
Aiden.
The thought slipped in quietly, like it didn't want to be noticed. Her fingers paused mid-button.
Aiden.
Her heart gave a small, unexpected flutter. She frowned, confused by herself, her brows knitting together.
Why did his name feel different in my mind?
I told myself it was nothing. Just a passing feeling. Maybe curiosity. Maybe a small, harmless crush that didn't even deserve a name. I didn't want to name it. Naming things made them real.
And real things always hurt.
Mira crossed her mind then, Mira's smile, Mira's closeness to him. The way Aiden had spoken about her, calm and caring.
Maybe they liked each other.
The thought landed softly, without impact. Lily waited for pain.
"It's okay," she whispered to no one. "It's just… something small. I don't even know if it's a crush."
She wasn't being honest with herself.
But she wasn't lying either.
The bus ride passed quietly. She stood near the window, music humming low in her ears — a love song she didn't fully listen to, only felt. The city moved past her in blurred shapes and colors, and for once, her chest felt lighter.
Like she didn't need to guard herself for a moment.
The song didn't just play—it stayed with her this time.
It wasn't something that shouted.
It didn't feel sharp or unsafe.
It felt like warmth that stayed, gentle enough to trust.
She got off the bus and walked toward campus, steps unhurried, shoulders relaxed. The morning air was cool against her skin, carrying the faint scent of coffee and pavement.
She thought of Aiden again.
I only know his name, she realized.
And his major.
She realized she knew almost nothing about him. Not his age. Not his tastes. Not the version of him that existed when the world wasn't watching.
The curiosity surprised her more than the feeling itself.
Her music played on, the song humming softly in her ears, when suddenly—
She felt someone behind her. Too close.Her steps slowed instinctively. Her shoulders tensed. A familiar, old reflex stirred in her chest.
Mm… Mira, she thought. She's trying to scare me again.
A smile tugged at her lips—then she spun around way too fast.
"Boo—"
The word barely formed when realization bloomed.
It wasn't Mira.
It was the same presence her mind had been circling, quiet and uninvited.
Aiden.
Too close. Much too close.
His gray eyes were just inches away, caught in surprise the same way hers were. Morning light softened his features, dark hair slightly messy, a calm face broken by that tiny mole beneath his eye she had noticed before.
He looked… calm. Black layered over white, clean and simple, like he hadn't tried at all. Light trousers, neat shoes everything effortless. The kind of person who didn't need to stand out to be noticed. She hated how easily her eyes stayed on him.
She stopped short, surprise rooting her in place. It was him, the one she never imagined would appear.
Then she realized how close they were.
She stepped back quickly, panic flushing up her neck. "Oh—sorry. I thought it was Mira."
Her voice came out rushed, breathless. She looked at him again without meaning to — just a quick glance — then another, slower one she hoped he wouldn't notice.
Aiden turned his face slightly, covering his mouth with his hand. His lips twitched.
He was trying not to laugh.
The effort made it worse.
He cleared his throat, the sound barely louder than a whisper, but it made her glance up.
His shoulders shifting as if to compose himself. "No," he said gently, voice low. "I'm sorry, Winslow."
He looked at her, noticing the way her fingers curled nervously at her sides, the way her eyes darted and came back, the soft panic written into her posture.
His expression softened.
Lily's heart didn't race.
It hovered.
Right there between a beat and the next.
And for a moment — just one — the world felt very small.
Just two people.
Morning light.
And something unnamed, quietly waking between them.
End of chapter 18