Luelle
The cool night air wrapped around Luelle as she stepped outside, the faint hum of music from the ballroom muffled behind the closed doors. She rubbed her arms lightly, her skin prickling under the breeze. It was refreshing, the kind of quiet she needed after the swirling noise and chaos inside, but her instincts never allowed her to fully relax.
Her gaze swept over the space—a quick but thorough scan of her surroundings. The parking lot stretched out under the glow of streetlights, casting elongated shadows that played tricks on the edges of her vision. There were a few students lingering near their cars, laughing and chatting, but nothing out of place. Still, she couldn't shake the habit of watching. Always watching.
She shifted her weight slightly, her senses attuned to the faintest movements. When she heard the soft creak of the door opening behind her, followed by footsteps on the paved walkway, she didn't flinch. She knew, almost instinctively, who it was.
Ethan.
There was something distinct about the way he moved—quiet, deliberate, unassuming. She stood still, her arms still loosely crossed, her gaze fixed ahead. She didn't turn around, didn't give any indication that she was aware of his presence. Instead, she focused on her breathing, steadying herself as she felt him close the distance between them.
She could feel his hesitation before he spoke, the faint pause in his steps. And then, finally, his voice cut through the silence.
"Luelle."
The moment Ethan said her name, it was like the world slowed just enough for Luelle to feel everything at once—his presence behind her, the weight of the past year, the feelings she had carried in secret for as long as she could remember.
She had loved him for years, long before he even knew she existed. When she was younger, it had been nothing more than admiration—a quiet, unwavering crush built on stolen glances and distant observations. But over time, as their paths had finally crossed, as she became his secret protector, that simple infatuation had deepened into something far greater.
Through every interaction—every group event arranged by Aria, every shared silence, every moment he unknowingly let her see more of him—her love had grown. The nights spent keeping watch, ensuring his safety from the shadows, had only strengthened the truth she had never spoken aloud.
And now, here he was.
Luelle turned slowly, her heartbeat unsteady, her breath shallow. She had trained herself to be composed, to control the emotions that had threatened to consume her, but standing this close to him now—just the two of them in the quiet of the night—she faltered.
Ethan looked at her in a way that made her stomach tighten, made warmth crawl through her despite the cool air. His dark eyes held something she dared not name, and for a brief second, she let herself pretend she didn't recognize the depth of it.
Instinct betrayed her before she could stop it. The night air was crisp, her skin chilled, and without thinking, she took a small step forward—toward his heat, toward the steady presence she had been drawn to for so long.
Ethan didn't move away.
"You look beautiful," he said, his voice quieter than usual, but firm.
Luelle inhaled sharply, forcing herself to remain steady even as his words struck deep.
"Thank you," she said softly, though her voice was thinner than she wanted it to be.
The moment stretched between them, charged, fragile. She needed to say something, anything to ease the intensity, to pull herself back from the edge of something she couldn't afford to fall into.
"It's so noisy in there," she murmured, gesturing vaguely toward the building. "Out here... it's quieter. Nice."
Ethan nodded but didn't say anything right away. He studied her—like he was seeing her differently tonight, like something had shifted that neither of them were ready to name.
And then, he said something that nearly stole the air from her lungs.
"Dance with me."
Luelle blinked. The request startled her more than she wanted to admit. She had spent so long expecting distance, expecting quiet restraint, that the simplicity of his words caught her off guard.
She hesitated. "Here?"
Ethan didn't answer—not with words. Instead, he stepped forward, closing the remaining space between them. His movements were deliberate, steady, giving her time to pull away if she wanted.
She didn't.
His arms wrapped around her, hands settling gently at her waist, and her own fingers found his shoulders before she could think twice. His warmth seeped through his suit, steadying her, grounding her in a way that made the moment feel impossibly fragile.
Her breath was uneven at first, her pulse stumbling over itself as she tried to adjust to the closeness. She had imagined this—countless times over the years. But the reality of his touch, the quiet strength of him holding her, was more than she had ever allowed herself to dream of.
The soft sway of their movements began, unhurried, without music. Luelle felt the tension melt from her muscles, her body relaxing into his as she let herself savour it.
She didn't speak.
She didn't need to.
For the first time, she let herself exist in the moment—not as his protector, not as someone carrying the weight of secrets, but simply as a girl who had loved him quietly for as long as she could remember.
And as Ethan held her tighter, guiding their movements under the dim glow of the light, she allowed herself to pretend—just for a little while—that this was something real.
Ethan
Under the soft glow of the dim lights, as they swayed gently together, he felt the steadfastness of his resolve beginning to wane. For so long, he had convinced himself that keeping Luelle at a distance was the wisest choice — for her sake, for his own, for the life he had been compelled to live. She deserved a future untainted by the shadows that clung to him. Yet, as he drew her closer, the carefully constructed arguments began to dissolve like mist.
And deep within, he grappled with the thought of letting her go.
Perhaps, just perhaps, he would not.
Her presence enveloped him, almost overwhelming. The warmth of her body against his, the delicate brush of her lavender dress against his hands, the soft rhythm of her breath — all of it filled the empty spaces he had not realized existed. She fit within the circle of his arms as if she had always belonged there, making it difficult for him to believe he had not drawn her to him long before this moment.
Ethan's gaze fell upon her face, moonlight spilling across her features, casting a glow that sparkled in her eyes, filled with a depth of emotion he could not quite name. Her lips parted slightly, her expression open yet hesitant, as if she too stood at the precipice of uncertainty. Her perfume hung in the crisp air, floral and ethereal, stirring a whisper of desire he had buried for far too long.
Memories surged within him — her laughter during moments of camaraderie, her quiet presence amidst playful banter, and the tender moments they shared in the intimacy of his tutoring. In those times, he had been most vulnerable, and she, with her keen intellect and quiet strength, had reached him in ways no one else had ever managed.
Yet, it was not only their shared moments that haunted him; it was her ceaseless presence. He would steal glances at her throughout that shared year, aware that she saw far more than he would have wished. She had become a constant in his life, a soothing balm for the chaos that often enveloped him.
But then there was the Dominion — a persistent weight at the back of his mind, a chain that tugged at every thought. The rules, the control, the unyielding expectations had shaped his existence for as long as he could remember. They would never allow him the freedom to embrace Luelle.
Yet, in that moment beneath the stars, everything else faded into the background.
Her voice broke through his thoughts. "The moon and stars are so bright tonight," she said softly, her gaze turned upward.
Ethan hesitated, tilting his head as he studied the sky as if searching for something, before his eyes found hers again, clouded with unspoken emotion. "Not as bright as you," he murmured, the words slipping from his lips with a sincerity that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
Luelle's cheeks flushed at his confession, and she turned her face back toward him, a shy smile gracing her lips. The openness she exhibited drew him in, a magnetic pull he could no longer resist.
Slowly, his head descended, his movements tentative yet assured enough for her to retreat if she wished. She did not. When their lips finally met, the universe faded into nothingness.
The kiss began gently, a tentative exploration of emotions long held at bay. But as she melted into him, her hands finding their place upon his shoulders, it deepened. The unspoken tension that had lingered between them finally erupted, leaving Ethan overwhelmed by a tide of feelings he had long suppressed.
Her warmth enveloped him, filling every part of his being. She was no longer just an admired figure from afar, nor a fleeting thought in the quietest of moments. She was everything — real, steadfast, present.
After the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing softly in the stillness of the night. In the depths of his eyes, she saw her own uncertainty mirrored back, intertwined with something else, something deeper that neither was yet ready to name.
She glanced skyward again, speaking softly yet firmly. "It truly is lovely this evening."
Ethan offered a weak smile, but the tumult of thoughts within him roared louder than before. In that moment, he yearned to defy the Dominion, to resist the predetermined path laid before him. He longed to keep her safe, yes — but he also craved her presence in his life, at any cost.
But before he could voice his thoughts, before he could make a promise that felt uncertain, his name echoed from the ballroom.
The microphone crackled to life, announcing the speech he had nearly forgotten.
Ethan felt a tightening within him, the moment fracturing. He straightened slightly, arms still encircling her as his gaze bore into hers.
"I have to go," he said, his voice low and heavy with regret. He paused, searching her eyes as if trying to offer her reassurance. "But we will talk."
Luelle nodded, her expression soft yet resolute, her hands sliding reluctantly from his shoulders. He pulled away, his jacket still draped around her shoulders, battling the urge to turn back toward the hall.
But as he took a step away, he stole one last glance over his shoulder. There she stood in the moonlight, her dress shimmering softly in its glow. The image burned into his memory, a haunting echo he would carry with him always.
And as the doors closed behind him, Ethan knew one thing for certain — this was far from over.