Felicity's POV.
The private moment. The confession.
After that evening, I needed fresh air. I needed somewhere the noise couldn't follow me. The Grand Hall had become too loud, too crowded, and too overwhelming. My chest felt tight, my thoughts were tangled, I couldn't breathe, and I was dangerously close to losing my patience with everyone. I slipped through the doors and hurried towards the garden balcony, desperate for a moment where nobody was asking me to choose, explain, defend, or apologise.
The moment I stepped outside, the Oxford winter air rushed against my face, and I stopped cold. That was the first thing I felt. I closed my eyes, letting the icy breeze wash over me, the sharp, clean bite of winter against my warm skin slipping beneath the neckline of my dress, and raising tiny bumps along my arms. I wrapped my arms around myself and drew in a deep breath. The breeze caught my hair and scattered a few strands across my face.
I tucked them behind my ear and looked out over the garden. Oxford looked completely different at night. The ancient stone buildings surrounding the garden were washed in silver moonlight. Bare branches stretched towards the dark sky, their shadows falling across the frost-covered grass. Above everything, the moon hung bright and enormous, almost close enough to touch. I walked towards the bench and sat down.
For the first time that evening, I was completely alone. I tilted my head back and stared at the moon hanging above Oxford like a silver lantern, bathing the garden in a soft, wonderful glow. Slowly, I lifted one hand towards it, spreading my fingers as though I could somehow catch the silver light between them, as though I could reach out and touch the moonlight.
A quiet smile touched my lips. The breeze moved gently through my hair, brushing my cheeks with icy fingers. I closed my eyes and let myself feel it: the cold, the silence, the faint rustling of the trees. I breathed in the cool air slowly, letting it fill my lungs. Somewhere beyond the garden, Oxford was still alive, but here, everything seemed suspended.
No Chris, no Noah, no Alex, no Mia, or even Laura. Just me, the moon, the winter breeze, the quiet moment, and the mess inside my heart. Yet somehow, even in the silence, my heart wouldn't stop racing. Three boys. Three confessions. Three completely different kinds of love. And one heart that still had absolutely no idea what it wanted. I lowered my hand, stared at the moon again, and sighed. For a few precious minutes, I allowed myself to forget everything.
Then I heard footsteps behind me. My eyes opened, but I didn't turn around. The footsteps came closer. One, two, three. My fingers tightened around the edge of the bench. A second later, the balcony door opened behind me, followed by the quiet click as it closed again. Whoever it was didn't say a word. I frowned as the footsteps approached until someone stopped directly behind me.
Before I could turn around, warm hands gently covered my eyes. I jumped, my hands immediately flying towards the wrists covering my eyes, but I stopped when a familiar scent surrounded me. Expensive, calm, warm, and peaceful. I caught the unmistakable scent of Chris's cologne, and suddenly the peaceful little world I had created around myself didn't feel so peaceful anymore.
My lips curved despite myself. "Chris, why are you covering my eyes?"
A chuckle sounded behind me. "So it's me?" Chris asked, his deep voice brushing against my ear. "How do you know it is me?"
I smiled, my pulse already speeding up. "I know you. And you're wearing that expensive, calm, peaceful cologne."
His hands slowly slipped away from my eyes, his fingers lingering for a brief second against my temples before releasing me. I blinked against the sudden brightness of the moonlight, then turned my head. Chris stood behind me. For once, he wasn't wearing that perfectly controlled expression he carried around the university like armour.
The winter wind slightly tousled his dark hair, and the moonlight caught the sharp lines of his face. His suit was still neat despite everything that had happened inside, although I could have sworn there was still the faintest trace of strawberry on his shoulder.
My eyes narrowed in playful suspicion. "You still have strawberries on your suit."
Chris glanced down at his shoulder, then back at me, his ocean blue eyes showing a rare, soft look. "I'm trying to forget that happened, Felicity."
I almost smiled. Almost. Chris walked around the bench and sat beside me, very close. Close enough that our shoulders nearly touched. Close enough for that expensive scent of his cologne to wrap around me completely. I immediately became aware of everything: the heat radiating from his body, the cold air brushing my skin, the sound of his breathing, and the space between us, or rather, the lack of it. I shifted slightly; my heart was thumping.
Chris noticed the small movement. His eyes flicked towards me, holding my gaze with an intensity that made the chill in the air disappear. I looked away first, unable to handle the heat in his stare. "Why are you here, Chris?"
His expression changed. The brief amusement disappeared entirely. He stared out at the moon for a moment, taking a slow breath before turning back towards me. "Felicity," he said quietly. He didn't sound arrogant or guarded anymore. He sounded desperate. "He can give you peace."
I frowned, looking back at him. "Who?"
"You know who," Chris replied, his jaw tightening slightly. "Noah."
My heart gave an irritated, confused little thump at the mention of Noah's name, but Chris leaned closer, refusing to let me break eye contact. "Noah can give you quiet, safe peace. But I can give you the world."
I stared at him, my breath catching. His voice wasn't playful or boastful. There was something raw and heavy underneath his words, something real enough to make me forget how ridiculous they sounded.
"Why are you choosing to be bored when you could be a Queen?" he asked, his voice dropping low and quiet, full of deep feeling yet painfully honest.
I turned towards him sharply, my heart tightening in my chest. "I'm not a prize, Chris. You know that."
"I know," Chris whispered.
His answer came so softly that it stopped me completely. He sounded nothing like his usual confident self. Chris's eyes held mine as his hand lifted slowly, almost hesitantly. For one breathless second, I thought he was going to reach for my hand. Instead, his fingertips brushed my cheek. I froze in surprise, but as the warmth of his skin met mine, I melted beneath his touch.
His hand was gentle, almost uncertain, and that alone shocked me. His fingers were shaking just slightly against my skin, and that tiny tremor caught me completely off guard. Christopher Buckingham Blake was never uncertain about anything. He was the man who could command every room he walked into with one look, yet here he was, his hand trembling against my face in the freezing night. I stared at his fingers against my cheek, my skin tingling everywhere he touched.
"You're the person who makes me want to be a better man," he admitted, his voice low, husky, and painfully honest. "Not a prince, not an heir, just a better man."
My breath caught. "Chris..."
Chris swallowed, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips before rising back to meet my eyes. "And that scares the absolute life out of me."
The words landed somewhere deep inside my soul. The moonlight caught his ocean blue eyes, making them look softer and wider than I had ever seen them. For a moment, the boy who could command an entire university with one look suddenly looked nothing like the Chris everyone at Oxford knew. My heart was no longer calm. It was screaming and racing all at once. My heart began pounding, hard and fast, completely out of control. I should have moved away. I should have pulled back and remembered the rules, the challenge, and the chaos waiting inside the Grand Hall.
But I didn't move an inch. Chris's thumb moved gently across my cheekbone, sending a fierce shiver straight down my spine as the winter breeze blew around us. His gaze dropped back to my lips, lingering there with a heavy, magnetic pull. My heart kept beating, faster and harder with every second. Then, as if the night itself had been waiting for that exact moment, the first white snowflake landed softly on my cheek, right beside his thumb.
Chris saw it. So did I. Another snowflake drifted between our faces, followed by another, falling from the dark sky. I slowly looked up; snow had begun to fall over Oxford, covering the garden in a soft white veil and coating the bench, dark trees and the ground. I looked back at Chris. He was still impossibly close, his warm hand resting against my cold skin, his ocean blue eyes fixed on mine beneath the silver moonlight.
Neither of us moved. For one breathless, electric moment, the entire world disappeared. There was no Grand Hall, no food fight, no arguments, no Noah, no Alex, no Mia, and no Laura. There was only Chris, the falling snow, his hand against my cheek, and the terrifying, beautiful silence between us. My heart pounded harder and harder. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes asking a question his lips didn't dare speak. Something life-changing was about to happen.
Then I sneezed. "Ahchoo!"
I quickly covered my nose with both hands, my face instantly burning with intense embarrassment. The cold had suddenly caught up to me, and the fresh snow was beginning to settle on my hair and shoulders. Chris blinked in surprise, then a genuine, breathtaking laugh broke from his lips, wiping away the quiet tension between us. He immediately noticed the violent shiver that ran through my body.
"You're freezing, Felicity," Chris said softly.
Before I could even offer a response, he stood up and slipped out of his tailored suit without a single second of hesitation. He stepped close, leaning over me to drape the heavy, warm fabric carefully around my shoulders. He pulled the lapels tight around my neck, his hands brushing my collarbones as he bundled me up to keep the icy winter wind from reaching my skin.
I looked up at him, my eyes wide with surprise. "Chris, what are you doing?"
"Keeping you warm," Chris replied quietly, his voice steady, but there was no hesitation in it.
The rich warmth of his suit surrounded me immediately, carrying the familiar, peaceful scent of his cologne right up to my face. I looked down at the dark shiny fabric wrapped around my body, then looked back up into his handsome face. "You'll be cold out here in just your shirt," I whispered.
Chris gave me a small, beautiful smile, the moonlight showing the undeniable sincerity in his eyes. "I'll survive, sweet Felicity. As long as you're warm and safe."
Snowflakes continued falling all around us, catching in his dark hair and settling across his clean white shirt. For a long moment, neither of us said another word. Chris simply stood there beside the bench in the falling snow, watching me with a care that ran far deeper than any title or crown, watching to make sure I was warm and ensuring I was completely protected from the cold. His eyes followed every little movement as if nothing else in the world mattered, and somehow, that simple, selfless gesture made my heart race faster than anything he had said that night.