Win_Praise

Balance the debts... or become one. 

Gideon Harrow didn’t ask to inherit a haunted book, a cursed job, or an extremely hot ghost girl with cheekbones sharp enough to kill him. But life’s unfair, magic’s real, and the dead keep ignoring boundaries.

Now he’s stuck balancing other people’s afterlife debts, flinging chalk at angry spirits, and trying very hard not to fall for the mysterious girl currently stealing his clothes and sanity.

He’s not ready to be the next Keeper of Accounts.

Too bad the Ledger disagrees.

The Hollow Ledger

LOCATION: HARROW VAULT – STILL NOT SURE HOW SHE GOT IN

And it wasn't the mature, brooding kind of sulk either. It was the full, teenage, "someone stole my candy and called me a disappointment" level sulk.

It bounced off a vault wall and hit his foot again. Of course.

Vivienne leaned against a glyph pedestal, twirling the same coin Seraphine had given Gideon days ago—the one he'd rejected because rebellion. She looked amused.

"You're pouting," she said, grinning.

> "He's definitely pouting," the Ledger chimed in. "Do you want me to fetch your pacifier?"

"I'm just mad the rune won't hold. Again."

He drew another circle, poured in energy, whispered the words—

—and the spell flickered like a dying candle.

Before he could complain, she reached out, gently sliding her hands over his. Her touch was soft, steady.

She adjusted his stance, his fingers, even guided the chalk stroke.

Gideon stared. "I—what—how—"

> "I am... mildly impressed," the Ledger muttered, clearly pained.

Vivienne leaned in close to his ear. "You just needed a better teacher."

"Also," she added with a wink, "you blush too easily."

LOCATION: HARROW DINING HALL – LATER

Dinner was a formal affair. It always was. Long table. Too many forks. A chandelier that screamed old money and ghost taxes.

Alar sat at the head, silent and observing. Seraphine sipped wine like she was judging its lineage. Gideon... just tried not to fall asleep in his soup.

Cassian, ever the golden boy, leaned forward.

"So," he said with a smile too sharp, "another failed glyph today?"

Vivienne, before anyone else could speak, cut in.

"Actually, he held a stabilization glyph for twenty-two seconds."

She smiled sweetly. "Which is better than your record in second year, if I recall."

Cassian blinked again. "How did you know that."

Vivienne tilted her head innocently. "Lucky guess? I just assumed you peaked early." She grinned. "Didn't think I'd be right."

Seraphine actually smiled. Smiled. The apocalypse must be near.

Alar grunted, which in Harrow-speak meant interesting.

Cassian looked between them and cleared his throat. "Still, one lucky glyph—"

"He's improving. Fast. And I don't think it's luck. I think he's just... finally being taken seriously."

Cassian said nothing after that. Because really, what could he say?

Gideon just stared at her. Like she'd flipped the world.

LOCATION: GIDEON'S ROOM – LATE NIGHT

She sat on his bed, tossing the coin in the air and catching it.

He stood by the door, arms crossed.

She smiled. "Because I'm your girlfriend, remember?"

Her smile faded just a little. She placed the coin on his dresser, got up, and walked over.

"Because," she said softly, "you're the first living person I've seen in a long time... who looked like he needed someone to believe in him."

The Ledger gasped. Not literally. It fluttered in shock.

> "Well. I wasn't expecting that."

"Neither was I," Gideon said quietly.

Vivienne smirked. "Don't get all mushy now. I'll lose interest."

> "Yuck," the Ledger muttered. "Go back to failing glyphs."

Holding Hands & Holding Your Ground