SEBASTIAN

"It's time for our nightly chat! Yipee!" Silas yelled excitedly, his voice cutting through the quiet room as he launched himself onto my bed. I barely registered the chaos in time, too focused on my phone. Before I could react, he landed on top of me, throwing his entire weight over mine.

"Ugh—!" I let out a loud cough, startled by the sudden impact. My phone slipped from my hands as I struggled to adjust under him.

I had just been grinding away at a pizzeria game I found—one of the few that didn't require an internet connection. It wasn't much, but it was something to keep my mind occupied. Now, though, my gaming session was clearly over, thanks to Silas.

His body was warm against mine, and the realization hit me with a wave of embarrassment. I felt my face heat up. "Hey, hey! Notice me! Didn't you promise we'd chat at night?" Silas poked my cheek, trying to grab my attention.

I kept my eyes glued to the phone screen, pretending to stay immersed in the game. My voice wavered slightly as I mumbled, "I'm… playing…"

Great job, Sebastian. Way to seem totally not suspicious.

Silas pouted, clearly unimpressed. He shifted, resting his head on my stomach for a moment before rolling to the side. Finally, he settled next to me, his head propped on my shoulder as he peered at my phone screen.

"You know, you shouldn't use your phone so much. We don't have chargers here," he remarked casually, his voice teasing but light.

I bit my lip, trying to focus on anything other than the proximity between us. Why is he so close?! Does he not understand the concept of personal space?

My hands, now trembling slightly, betrayed my nervousness. Silas didn't miss it, of course. He laughed softly. "Are you okay? Why are your hands shaking?" His tone was amused, a playful grin spreading across his face.

I shot up, closing my phone abruptly and sitting upright. My face burned, and I silently thanked the darkness of the room for hiding the redness of my cheeks. The fireplace had been extinguished earlier since it made the room uncomfortably warm, leaving only dim shadows to dance on the walls.

"I'm fine," I muttered quickly, avoiding his gaze. "What do you want? I was… playing, but if you want to talk, fine. Let's talk." I crossed my legs, trying to steady myself.

At my words, Silas lit up, clapping his hands together like a child about to unwrap a gift. "Gah! I love this! It's like a sleepover, except we get to talk about our lives! Oh, oh! What if we play that game where we take turns asking each other questions?"

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. This might actually be a good opportunity to learn more about him… and, more importantly, his relationship with Rosemary. My mind flickered back to earlier, remembering the look in her eyes—the way they brimmed with tears she refused to let fall, even as Silas walked away.

They must care about each other, huh?

"Can I go first?" I asked, my voice a little more eager than I intended. Silas looked surprised at my enthusiasm but quickly recovered, his grin turning mischievous.

"You seem pretty eager to know more about me, huh?" he teased, leaning closer.

I let out an awkward, choked noise. "N-No! I mean… yes. But this question is a little serious. Maybe even heavy—if that's alright," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck nervously.

His playful expression softened, replaced by something more thoughtful. "Is this… about Rosemary?" he asked quietly. His tone held a hint of nervousness as he rubbed his hands together.

I hesitated, guilt already bubbling in my chest. "It's fine if you don't want to answer," I added quickly, hoping to give him an out.

Silas shook his head, forcing a small smile. "No, it's okay. I said we'd play this game, didn't I?"

But even as he spoke, I could see the tension in his smile, the way he tried to mask the discomfort with casualness. My chest tightened with guilt—this wasn't what I wanted. I never meant to push him into talking about something he wasn't ready to share.

It must have shown on my face, because Silas laughed softly, reaching out to pat my shoulder. "I'm serious. I do want to tell you this… It's just—" He paused, his brows furrowing as if searching for the right words. "I'm not sure where to start."

"Take your time," I said gently, offering him a small smile. "I don't want to rush you or anything, but… maybe this is something you should just get off your chest."

His eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. For a moment, he stayed quiet, his lips tugging into a faint, uncertain smile. Then, he let out a soft laugh and lowered his head.

"That's the first time anyone's said that to me," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck almost bashfully. "I guess I've just… gotten used to keeping things to myself. I never really had anyone to talk to about my problems."

His confession tugged at something inside me. I felt a flicker of courage, so I shifted, lying down on my back, and patted the empty space beside me.

Silas blinked at the gesture, his eyes widening slightly. Then, he let out a quiet giggle—a sound I wasn't sure I'd ever heard from him before—and settled down beside me.

We both stared at the ceiling, the silence between us comfortable. I placed my hands over my stomach, waiting for him to speak at his own pace.

"My mother," he began softly, his voice steady but tinged with memory, "before she became a professor in Zaudseth, used to work in the field. She was the one who found the wreckage where Rosemary's pack lived. My mom found her hiding in the floorboards. Her family must've hidden her there to keep her safe."

I turned my head slightly to glance at him. His expression was calm, but his eyes carried a weight that his voice didn't betray.

"There were no survivors," he continued quietly, "and none of the other mages wanted to take Rosemary in. She was a werewolf, and they didn't have the resources—or the patience—to care for one. So… my mother took her in. She brought her home."

He smiled faintly as he turned his head to meet my gaze. "I was probably five or six at the time. Rosemary and I were the same age—well, almost. She was three months younger. I was so happy when I met her. I didn't have any friends back then, or even anyone my age to talk to."

I frowned at that, my heart sinking. "That's… sad," I murmured. I'd known Silas had been lonely—he'd mentioned it in passing before—but to hear it started so early in his life? Just how long had he carried that weight?

He shrugged, his smile turning tired. "Yeah… I guess. My mother was strict back then. She never let me leave the house unless it was for something important, and the only kids I met were from families connected to ours. But those meetings were always for work—they weren't really friends."

He paused, his expression softening as he continued. "Rosemary hid in her room for weeks when she first came to live with us. I was so excited to have someone close to my age around that I'd sit outside her door and talk to her, even though she wouldn't answer me. I guess I just hoped she'd eventually come out. And then, after two months, she finally opened the door."

A small smile tugged at his lips, and I couldn't help but smile back, caught in the warmth of his memory.

"Do you know what she said to me?" Silas asked, his voice tinged with amusement. "The first thing she said after all that time was, 'You talk too much.'" He laughed, the sound light and genuine. "But I didn't care. I was just so happy she finally opened the door. After that, we were inseparable."

His voice picked up a bit as he reminisced. "We'd play in the garden or inside the house—it was big enough for games like hide-and-seek. She always hid under her bed. One time, she even crammed herself into one of the cupboards."

I snorted at the mental image. "Rosemary? In a cupboard? She's taller than me now—I can't even imagine it."

Silas laughed along with me, his eyes sparkling briefly before his expression turned somber again. "I didn't know much about werewolves back then, not until my mother sat me down and explained it. She told me because… it was the day the higher-ups decided it was time for Rosemary to leave. She was only supposed to stay with us temporarily, and they'd finally found a pack willing to take her in and teach her everything she needed to know."

"Oh," I said softly, my chest tightening at the thought.

Silas sighed, a heavy sound that echoed in the quiet room. "When my mom told Rosemary, she refused to leave. She said she didn't want to go—she said I needed her. But… all I could think about was that she was a werewolf. She was destined for something bigger, something better. And I didn't want her to lose that because of me."

His voice dropped to a whisper. "So I lied to her. I told her I hated her. I called her a monster. I thought… if she hated me, she'd have no reason to stay."

"Silas…" I sat up, my hand hovering uncertainly before I finally let it rest on his hair, running my fingers through the soft strands.

His faraway look faded as his gaze refocused on me. Even in the dim light, my vampiric eyes could see the tears clinging to his lashes, unshed but heavy. He was trying so hard not to cry.

Silas, I realized, was the strongest person I knew. Even with the weight of his pain, he stood tall, unwavering. I couldn't help but wonder: could I ever be as strong as him?

"Talk to her," I said, my voice soft but firm, as Silas suddenly chuckled. His hand rose, brushing against mine before he held it.

"I'll try," he replied, his tone uncertain, yet a small smile tugged at his lips.

We both fell silent, the air between us heavy but not uncomfortable. Slowly, it dawned on me—he was still holding my hand.

I pulled away instinctively, startled by the intimacy. Silas noticed immediately, his eyes widening as he sat up straighter.

"Sorry," he said quickly, wincing slightly. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

I shook my head, feeling a little flustered. "No, no… It's fine," I mumbled, trying to sound casual.

Silas studied me for a moment, then leaned back, crossing his arms. "What about you?" he asked, his voice teasing as he puffed out his cheeks like he was trying to lighten the mood. "Enough about me—you should answer my question too."

I froze, a small, choked cough escaping me. I had completely forgotten we were playing the question game.

The game had gone on for hours—longer than I expected. Silas had fallen asleep first, right at 2 AM, after recounting his story about Rosemary. I'd stayed awake, lying beside him, trying to process everything he'd said.

Now, as I glanced over at him, I realized just how peaceful he looked in sleep.

…

He has a nice sleeping face. Soft, unguarded.

My hand hovered over his cheek, hesitating before I lightly touched it. His skin was warm under my fingertips. He stirred slightly but didn't pull away.

I let out a quiet breath.

He's… pretty.

His hair had fallen across his face, hiding his features, so I carefully pushed it aside. My fingers brushed his forehead as I tucked the stray strands behind his ear. That's when I noticed how long his eyelashes were.

"Pretty…" I murmured before I could stop myself.

The word felt foreign on my tongue, and I immediately clamped a hand over my mouth, stifling the sound. My face burned.

I was so glad he was asleep. But now, lying here beside him, watching him, I felt like a creep.

I should… go back to my bed.

Carefully, I floated up from the mattress, avoiding any sudden movements that might wake him. Walking off the bed normally felt too risky—what if he woke up and saw me? That would be awkward. Worse, what if he thought I was a creep?

…

I drifted back to my own bed and lay on my side, staring at him from across the room. Even in the dim light, I could still see his face.

Agh! Maybe I am a creep!

Frustrated with myself, I sat up abruptly and jumped to my feet, making my way to the balcony. My body felt strangely hot, my thoughts spiraling as I leaned on the railing. The cool night air hit my skin, and I let out a deep sigh.

"I don't think this is just a simple crush anymore," I muttered, burying my face in my hands.

I had expected this… fixation on him to fade after a week or two, but it hadn't. If anything, it had grown stronger with each passing day.

Is this even just a crush anymore?

And to think—it all started because Kath planted the idea in my head.

"Damn you, Kath," I groaned softly, shaking my head.

I opened my eyes again, tilting my head back to look at the stars. The moon hung high in the sky, its glow spreading a calm over the dark landscape.

"Hn… He should've stayed awake to see this," I mumbled, a small smile tugging at my lips.

The dark expanse below stretched out in silence, the trees swaying gently in the breeze. During the day, the grounds were filled with students, but now, not a soul could be seen.

"How nice," I murmured, letting the cold breeze wash over me.

But then… movement caught my eye.

A black blur darted across the field toward the trees.

I squinted, leaning forward to get a better look. Whoever it was, they were running—no, sprinting—on all fours.

Who in their right mind runs on all fours?

Wait…

"Rosemary?" I said aloud, my voice barely above a whisper.

The figure stopped just before the trees, standing upright now. It was her. She glanced around, her movements hurried, almost frantic.

What is she doing out there?

She's not trying to leave, is she?

But… that shouldn't be possible. She had that device around her neck—the one that kept her from shifting or running away. And where was Alex? Wasn't she supposed to be watching Rosemary?

I turned back toward the room. Silas was still fast asleep.

His words from earlier echoed in my mind.

No. I can't let Rosemary leave—not like this. Not until she and Silas talk. They deserve at least that much, some kind of closure.

Just as I resolved to stop her, Rosemary bolted into the trees, disappearing into the shadows.

"No!" I hissed, a whisper-shout of panic as I leapt over the balcony railing without thinking.

I can't let her leave yet!