Mia's POV
The morning after her birthday, the house felt quieter than usual. Not empty, exactly, but softer—like the echoes of last night's laughter and music were still lingering in the corners. Mia sat on the edge of her bed, absentmindedly tracing the rim of her mug of tea, letting the steam curl around her face.
She couldn't stop thinking about Liam. His voice, that infuriatingly familiar inflection, kept threading through her thoughts. She had forgiven him—or at least told herself she had—but the old ache, the unresolved tension, remained stubbornly lodged in her chest.
"Why does it feel like he's still here?" she muttered under her breath, staring out the window at the soft glow of the morning.
The truth was uncomfortable. She hadn't moved on as neatly as she told herself she had. Part of her had never really stopped thinking about him, and now, seeing him again, hearing his voice, feeling that old pull, it was all-consuming in a way she hadn't expected.
And yet… there was Ace. That quiet, infuriating, impossible presence that seemed to weave itself into her days without her permission. His teasing, his subtle awareness, the way he could annoy her one second and then—without even trying—make her feel safe the next. The thought of him made her pulse quicken in ways she wasn't entirely ready to admit.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the jumble of emotions. Liam was the past. Ace was… complicated. And she needed clarity before either of them could take up more space in her heart.
By the time she arrived at school, the memory of last night's party and Liam's sudden reappearance still pressed heavily on her. She ducked into the hall, hoping to avoid any unnecessary encounters while she tried to untangle her feelings.
She hadn't expected to find Ace waiting for her near the lockers, leaning casually against the wall with that trademark smirk that had a tendency to make her heart skip despite her best efforts.
"You look… distracted," he said, his tone light but not quite teasing. There was something in his gaze, sharp and watchful, that made her stiffen slightly.
"Distracted?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Me? Never."
Ace smirked knowingly. "Sure. You've got that 'something happened last night' vibe going on. Birthday hangover, maybe?"
Mia rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Hardly," she said. "I'm perfectly fine. Just… busy."
Ace tilted his head, studying her. "Right. Busy. With what?"
Mia felt heat rise to her cheeks but refused to answer. "I said I'm fine," she said, turning to walk away.
He didn't move. "You're not fine," he said quietly, almost too softly for anyone else to hear. But Mia caught it. She always caught it—the way he saw through the walls she built, the way he noticed the smallest shifts in her expression, the almost imperceptible tension in her shoulders.
She didn't respond, focusing instead on the lockers in front of her, trying to ground herself in something ordinary while her thoughts swirled around Liam, Ace, and the tangled knot of emotions she couldn't yet unravel.
Throughout the day, her mind kept drifting. Every glance, every laugh, every passing interaction reminded her of last night—the way Liam's voice had carried over the garden, the tension she felt when Ace, Lily, and James confronted him, and the strange mixture of fear, longing, and protectiveness she hadn't expected to feel.
Even during class, her attention wandered. She caught Ace watching her a few times, his gaze quick and deliberate, always pulling back before she could meet it fully. Every time, she felt a flutter of something she couldn't name, an awareness that he was there, waiting, aware of Liam, aware of her, aware of everything in ways she hadn't anticipated.
By the time lunch rolled around, Mia found herself sitting with Lily and James, trying to distract herself from the storm of thoughts.
"So," Lily said casually, breaking the silence, "how are we feeling after last night? Emotional hangover or just mild chaos?"
Mia laughed softly, though it was brittle. "A little of both," she admitted. "It was… a lot."
James leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Liam, huh? You still thinking about him?"
Mia frowned. "Of course I'm thinking about him. He showed up out of nowhere. It's impossible not to."
Lily exchanged a glance with James. "Just… be careful. Emotions are messy, and right now, you're in the middle of more than one storm."
Mia nodded, knowing they were right. She was standing on a precipice, caught between what was familiar and safe, what was thrilling and new, and what she hadn't fully understood about herself yet.
Later that afternoon, Ace found her again in the library, strategically "working" on an assignment but really just observing her from across the table. He didn't say much at first, letting silence hang between them like a tangible thread. Mia felt it immediately—the unspoken awareness, the subtle tension, the quiet challenge in his gaze.
"You're thinking about him," Ace said finally, almost casually, though the edge in his voice betrayed him.
Mia blinked at him. "I… am not," she replied quickly, though the flush rising in her cheeks betrayed the lie.
Ace leaned slightly closer, just enough for her to feel the brush of his shoulder. "Don't lie to me," he said softly. "I can tell. I've been watching. And… I don't like it."
Mia stiffened. "You… don't like what?"
"The fact that he still has this effect on you," Ace said, voice low, controlled, but intense. "That someone who left can make you question yourself, question… us."
Her breath hitched slightly, caught in the sudden weight of his words. "Us?" she whispered.
Ace's gaze held hers, unwavering, patient, but charged. "Yeah. Us," he said simply. "I don't know what you're feeling, Mia. I don't even know what I'm feeling sometimes. But I do know that I… care. More than I probably should."
Mia's heart skipped. She wanted to protest, to brush it off, but words failed her. Instead, she looked down at her notebook, tracing invisible patterns on the paper, trying to steady her racing heart.
Ace leaned back slightly, giving her space but never breaking the intensity of his gaze. "Take your time," he said quietly. "I'm not going anywhere. And neither is he—not without understanding the rules of this game."
Mia swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing on her chest. The slow burn—the tension between past and present, between Liam and Ace, between what she knew and what she was only starting to feel—was undeniable.
And for the first time that day, Mia allowed herself to admit it, silently, in the private corners of her heart: navigating this wasn't going to be simple. But it was hers to navigate.
Because whether she realized it or not, the slow burn had only just begun.