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🪷 LYRA 🪷
It had been a week. A whole week of searching the corridors and lingering in the courtyard longer than necessary.
Lyra hadn't seen Kieran once. She couldn't enter the high-class dorms, she couldn't exactly ask around either. Every time she considered it, she stopped herself. The fewer people who knew she was looking for him, the better.
By the seventh day, frustration had replaced hesitation. And then she saw him in the courtyard, but there were students everywhere.
Well, it's now or never.
Kieran was walking across the stone path with hands in his pockets, totally detached from the noise around him.
A few heads turned as she pushed past people.
"Hey!" she called. He slowed but didn't look surprised when she reached him. "C-can we talk?" she asked, slightly out of breath.
His expression stayed neutral. "You don't have to thank me."
"What? No, I don't want to...obviously I have to thank you, but that's not why I want to talk to you"
Kieran turned around to walk away, students were glancing over now. Why does he always do that to her?
Lyra swallowed and lowered her voice. "Did Eloise really kill herself?"
And then, he went still.
"What did you say?" he asked quietly.
"You heard me. But...can we meet up...later? People are staring. The basketball court, let's meet there."
—
Lyra couldn't concentrate the rest of the day. By the time the sun dipped and the academy grounds thinned out, she was already heading toward the court.
When she stepped inside the fenced area, she saw him immediately.
He was already there. She thought she'd have to wait for long or worse, he wouldn't show up.
He was leaning against the railing, arms crossed.
"Thank you," she started. "For saving me that night-"
"That's not why I'm here," he cut in.
Her words died in her throat. He pushed off the railing and stepped closer.
"How do you know about that?" he asked. "About Eloise. What did she show you?"
"I don't know, it sounds crazy. She showed me pieces of when she was alive. Her, Xavier and...you," she continued. "She liked you, you know that."
He didn't respond, but she didn't need him to. He did know about it.
"She was dating Xavier," Lyra added. "But she...she looked at you differently. She fought with Xavier because of it, she went to you after that," Lyra continued. "She told you he was mad. She tried to..." Lyra hesitated. "She tried to make you stay, threatened you, said she'd expose what you are."
"What else?"
"She said if you left, she'd kill herself."
"Hm."
"Hm? And you think that's what happened. She was emotional, yes. Desperate, yes. But when I saw what happened after…" Lyra trailed off.
His eyes narrowed. "After what?"
"I heard voices. Someone came to her after you left, said she became a liability. That it had to be done. That you don't get explanations. T-there was a scream and then...and then she was on the rooftop. And that was when she fell."
She rubbed her palms together, fidgeting as she stepped closer to him.
"Do you think she really killed herself after she left you? I know one thing for sure, and I know it's all weird because I shouldn't know all these because I wasn't there when it all happened. But there's something really wrong with me and I see these things and I know..." She paused, taking a deep breath. "That Eloise didn't kill herself. She was killed."
He just studied her like she'd become something new. And possibly dangerous. Then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
"So," he said flatly, "what now? You're going to play detective?"
Lyra stiffened. "This isn't a game."
"No?" His tone stayed cool. "You see dead people, and now you've decided it's murder. What's the plan? Sneak around in a hoodie?"
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"I want to know what happened to Eloise," Lyra said.
"And you think you're the one to uncover that? Tell me, you'll find that how?"
She hesitated for half a second. "The basement," she said quietly. "In the high-class dorm. I saw it. The first time I saw her, it was in the basement...she was in a coffin." she continued quickly. "It's definitely connected to her."
"That area is restricted and you know it."
"So?"
"So," he stepped closer, voice lowering, "you don't walk into restricted places here and come out in one piece."
"You're exaggerating." She held his gaze longer than she meant to, and that's when she realized he wasn't joking.
"You're serious," she said quietly. "Why? What is that place? Why does everyone act like there's something bigger going on and I'm the only one who doesn't get the script?"
Her lips trembled slightly, and her hands tightened in a fist at her sides.
"Why is this happening to me?" she asked, her voice cracking before she could stop it. "Why am I seeing things? Hearing things? I wasn't like this before...I don't want this. I sound and look crazy. Am I going crazy?" she whispered.
"No," he said. The firmness of it startled her. Okay, she wasn't expecting that. "You're not crazy."
"Then what is it?"
Before he could respond, the floodlights above the court flickered.
Both of them looked up instinctively. Buzz, flicker, then darkness.
The entire court went black instantly. She hated the dark, sort of. She hated the dark where you couldn't see your own hands, where you couldn't tell if your eyes were open.
A small, involuntary whimper left her throat before she could stop it.
"I can't see-" Her words trembled. "I can't-" Her fingers reached blindly and found his shirt. She grabbed onto him without thinking, pressing her body against his.
"I hate the dark," she whispered, embarrassed and breathless at the same time.
"Nothing's happening," he said firmly. "It's just the power. It's going to come back up."
His hand came up to the back of her head, pulling her against his chest. The contact startled her more than the dark. But it sent heat straight up her spine.
His fingers weren't rough. They just rested there, steady and warm against her hair, keeping her in place like he thought she might panic and bolt.
She still couldn't see anything, and that made her breathing uneven, but the contact helped more than she wanted to admit.
Her hands were still gripping his shirt, but now she was aware of it. She loosened her hold slightly, embarrassed.
"You don't have to-" she started, he didn't remove his hand despite her attempt to move.
"Relax," he said quietly.
The gentleness caught her off guard.
This was the same person who always acted detached. But right now, his hand at the back of her head was careful. Protective, even.
She swallowed. "You're surprisingly nice."
"I'm not nice."
She almost smiled despite the situation. "Sure."
His hand shifted slightly, fingers brushing through her hair in a small, absent motion before stilling again.
"Is that why you and Xavier don't agree?"
"There are a lot of reasons we don't agree," he said.
"That's not an answer."
"It is."
She frowned, even though she couldn't see him. "Does he know something about Eloise?"
"I'm not discussing Xavier."
"That's not what I asked."
His hand was still at the back of her head. She could feel the steady warmth of his palm, it was strange how grounding it felt.
"If something's happening, I deserve to know."
"You think knowing fixes things?" he asked.
"No. But not knowing is worse."
The lights suddenly buzzed loudly. And then, they came back on.
Lyra blinked hard, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. For a second she didn't move, then she realized she was still standing very close to him.
Very close. Her hands were still lightly holding his shirt, his hand was still at the back of her head.
She slowly lifted her face. And that's when she noticed they were inches apart. His face was tilted slightly downward.
His mouth opened slightly like he had been about to say something...or do something.
Her stomach flipped unexpectedly. She became very aware of the distance between their mouths.
Very aware of how little space there was. His eyes were so focused on her, she swallowed at the intensity of his stare.
"You can let go," she said, though her voice came out softer than she intended.
She noticed the way his eyes dropped briefly, just slightly, before coming back up to meet hers. Her heart started beating faster again.
His hand finally shifted slightly, but instead of dropping away, his fingers slid from the back of her head to the side of her hair, almost like he was about to tuck it behind her ear.
The motion was slow. Unintentional, maybe. His face was still close enough that she could feel his breath.
Still close enough that if either of them leaned forward even slightly...she became painfully aware of that possibility.
His hand stilled near her hair. For a second, it looked like he was about to say something. But instead, he just looked at her.
She could see the slight shift in his expression. She could push him away, probably create some distance. But all she could think about was how close he was, how his hand was still hovering near her hair.
How his eyes flicked down again briefly. Like he wanted to kiss her?
'WTF!! Why would you entertain such a thought? Kieran....kiss her? Well, bend me sideways, that was absolutely impossible.'
Everything stopped when he leaned his head closer. Damn it, he was...