🎶: Those Eyes - New West
The charity event was in full swing, the campus event hall buzzing with life and energy. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, mingling with the warm glow of strings of fairy lights crisscrossing the ceiling. The space had become a vibrant tapestry of movement and color, with cheerful banners fluttering gently above rows of tables that displayed handcrafted goods, donation boxes, and interactive exhibits. The hues of blue, yellow, and green—symbols of hope, renewal, and unity—seemed to reflect in the smiling faces of the crowd.
At the far end of the hall, Seraphine's stage was impossible to miss. Framed by cascading floral garlands and vibrant drapery, it looked like something out of a dream. Her name sparkled in marquee lights against a glittering backdrop as she swayed effortlessly to the beat of her opening song. How in high Heavens did she get sponsors to do this for her, free of charge, only God knows - Seraphine's always been blessed that way, Caitlyn laughed to herself.
Seraphine's soothing and compelling voice carried through the space, warm and inviting, wrapping around everyone like a shared embrace. A huge crowd had gathered near the stage, clapping, swaying, and singing along, their enthusiasm rippling through the hall like a wave. So much for not making it a Seraphine concert.
The entire charity event felt unexpectedly alive. In one corner, Zaunite student artists painted a massive mural-in-progress, each brushstroke capturing themes of resilience and hope with its purples and blues. The mural had drawn its own crowd, spectators pausing to watch as colors came to life on the canvas. A booth from Demacian students displayed shimmering crystal figurines and delicate jewelry, their polished surfaces catching the light like fragments of stars. Samantha bought a bunch of them, obsessed with the sparkles and how unique they were. Caitlyn couldn't help but wonder if Samantha was planning to buy out the entire booth.
Seraphine's final song from her first set—her rendition of Those Eyes—started softly, almost like a whisper, drawing everyone in with its raw, aching beauty. As her voice rose, the melody swelled, filling the hall with a warmth that seemed to settle deep into every corner. It wasn't just a performance; it was magic. The crowd stood captivated, the noise and movement from earlier forgotten. By the time she hit the final note, the room felt still, as if everyone was holding their breath, caught in the quiet magic of the moment.
Even Caitlyn had felt a twinge in her chest she couldn't quite explain—and she fought so hard the past few weeks not wanting to. She'd even made conscious effort to spend the entire event keeping her distance from the burgundy-haired beauty. Vi's presence was impossible to ignore, a constant reminder of the chaos Caitlyn was trying so hard to manage. Not the event—no, that was running smoothly. It was herself. Her thoughts. Her feelings.
There are no room for distractions. But even as she thought it, the image of Vi's sharp blue gaze flashed unbidden in her mind, and Caitlyn felt her resolve wobble. Shaking her head, Caitlyn forced the thought away. Not today. I won't let her ruin this day—not with her smirks, not with her stupidly beautiful piercing blue eyes, and definitely not with the way she always makes me feel… Her grip on the clipboard tightened. I don't even know what that feeling is, and I don't want to.
It was easier this way—keeping Vi at arm's length, avoiding the way her laugh carried over the crowd or how effortlessly she moved through the room, drawing Lux's starry-eyed admiration and Loris's jokes like it was the most natural thing in the world. Caitlyn just didn't have the energy to endure it. She didn't want to feel that flicker of something raw and unfamiliar that Vi always seemed to ignite in her, and each time she does, it leaves her feeling hollow—like she's reaching for something that's already slipping through her fingers, a quiet ache she can't name but can't seem to shake.
It hurts.
Perhaps, if Caitlyn hadn't been so resolute, she might have allowed herself a moment—a tear or two, just to release the mounting tension that had been building. The stress of the event, the weight of responsibility, the way Vi seemed to exist on the edges of her focus—all of it pressed down on her like an avalanche, heavy and unstoppable, threatening to bury her if she let her guard down for even a second. But Caitlyn Kiramman didn't cry, not in public, and certainly not over things she couldn't control. So she held it together, jaw tight, shoulders squared, and eyes fixed firmly ahead. It was easier that way. Or so she kept telling herself.
Vi didn't seem to show that it mattered anyway. Is that was friends do? Are we really even friends to begin with? Even if we were friends, why do I even… feel this way towards you? Caitlyn clenched her teeth, the thought slipping through before she could stop it.
-ਠŕ§-
🎶: Into Your Garden - 070 Shake feat JT
At the art booth, Vi leaned over a group of kids with an air of casual indifference that practically shouted too cool for this. But the way her hands moved—precise and confident, like she'd been doing this for years—made it hard to believe this was the same person who didn't seem like she could draw a perfect circle. She crouched slightly, her scarred knuckles brushing the edge of the table as she guided a little boy through drawing flames on the side of his rocket ship.
"Like this," she said, her voice husky and low. Tilting her head toward the boy, her burgundy hair fell into her face as she added a jagged line of fire. "Gotta make it look mean. This rocket? It's not just going to space—it's starting trouble while it's up there."
The boy grinned, gripping his crayon with new determination. "Like fighting aliens?"
"Exactly," Vi said, her lips quirking into a sly grin. "Big, ugly aliens who don't stand a chance."
Nearby, Loris leaned casually against the booth, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk, like he'd just discovered the eighth wonder of the world. "You know," he drawled, "I had money on you terrifying at least three kids by now. This?" Loris drawled, sweeping a hand at the entire scene before him—the kids completely engrossed in their drawings, Vi leaning in with surprising patience, and the oddly heartwarming chaos of it all. He tilted his head, his grin growing. "This I did not see coming."
Vi's smirk lingered, but there was a softness to it now as she dipped a brush into a bright swirl of paint, finishing a small rocket drawing of her own. "Yeah, well, kids are easy. They don't overthink everything. They just… create. It's simple. It's honest." She twirled the brush idly between her fingers, her eyes following the movements of a little girl intently sketching a flower nearby. "Kinda reminds me of Powder back then. She could spend hours getting lost in her own little world, making up stories with her drawings. Guess I liked being part of that."
"No, seriously," Loris said, his tone shifting to something more genuine, his grin softening as he watched the scene unfold. "You're… actually really good at this. Like, surprisingly good. Almost charming, even." His brows lifted slightly, as if he couldn't quite believe it himself. "Didn't think I'd ever see this side of you."
Vi chuckled softly, the sound low and almost private, like she was sharing a joke with herself. She brushed a strand of burgundy hair out of her face, the faintest smile tugging at her lips as she leaned back slightly to watch the kids work on their art. As she dipped her own brush back into the paint, Samantha's voice rang out over the booth, her tone dripping with sarcastic disbelief.
"Wait a second—Violet Kane, charming with kids? Did I miss the memo, or is this some kind of a bad joke?" Samantha asked, folding her arms as she approached, her perfectly arched eyebrow raised in mock skepticism. "Should I be expecting you to start hosting tea parties on the weekends, too?"
Loris, standing a few feet away, shot Samantha a quick, pleading look. His brows furrowed, silently begging her not to escalate whatever it was she was trying to stir. His eyes flicked back and forth between Samantha and Vi.
Vi didn't miss a beat, looking up with an unbothered expression, the corner of her mouth curling into a smirk. "Only if the tea comes with a side of whiskey, Sam. You should try it sometime—might help with that attitude of yours."
Samantha's grin widened, clearly unfazed. She glanced over her shoulder at Loris, her eyes locking with his in a shared moment of amusement before turning her full attention back to Vi. "Oh, I don't know," she said, dragging her words out like she was savoring every syllable. "I think Caitlyn would prefer a classic Darjeeling. Maybe some macarons on the side."
Vi kept her expression neutral, her smirk frozen in place like armor. "Darjeeling, huh?" she said casually, her voice giving nothing away. "Sounds fancy. Guess that's her style."
But inside, the mention of Caitlyn's name landed like a punch to the gut—sharp and unexpected. It was ridiculous, really. A name shouldn't have this much weight, shouldn't make her chest feel tight or her focus slip for just a fraction of a second. Yet here she was, her cool exterior intact while something deep inside her stirred like a lit match threatening to catch.
It wasn't the first time Samantha had been a thorn in her side. During the last few planning meetings, Sam had taken every opportunity to poke at her, throwing out sarcastic remarks and making pointed jabs about Vi's unpredictability. The woman had a knack for slipping in underhanded comments when Vi least expected it, always with that perfectly arched eyebrow and knowing smirk. Caitlyn, to her credit, never joined in—but Vi couldn't shake the memory of how distant Caitlyn's eyes had looked during those moments, like she wasn't fully present. It wasn't amusement or disapproval, just... detachment, as though Caitlyn had retreated to some far-off place where none of it could touch her. That look had stuck with Vi more than she wanted to admit.
She and Caitlyn hadn't really spoken much at all lately, not beyond the obligatory exchanges during event prep. Caitlyn had been focused—laser-focused, really—on the event's success, and Vi? She'd spent a lot of her time with Lux. Maybe too much time, now that she thought about it. Lux had a way of filling the silence, her bubbly energy drawing Vi in despite herself. It was easy, low stakes, and most importantly, a distraction from things—people—she didn't want to think too hard about.
It wasn't like Vi hadn't tried with Caitlyn. Once or twice, she'd thrown out a playful jab, something lighthearted to catch her off guard the way she used to. To see her flinch, her lips twitch into that half-smile that Vi secretly loved pulling out of her. But Caitlyn hadn't flinched. She hadn't smiled. Her responses had been brisk, polite, and detached, like she was operating on autopilot. It was as if a wall had gone up, and Vi, for all her bravado, wasn't about to push against it. Not when Caitlyn so clearly didn't want her to.
Samantha, clearly watching for a reaction, rolled her eyes with a sharp exhale. "You know," she said, her voice cutting through Vi's silence, "For someone who's got the whole flirty rebel act down to a science, you're pretty clueless when it comes to recognizing something real. Or maybe…" Her tone softened, the words hitting their mark before she even finished. "You're just too scared shitless to figure out it's actually worth the heartache."
Vi's smirk faltered—just barely, but enough that Loris caught it, his brow furrowing slightly. Vi didn't respond immediately, her brush pausing mid-air over the canvas as Samantha's words hung in the air. Her gaze drifted to the colors mixing on the bristles, as if the answer to whatever storm was brewing inside her might be hiding there.
"Don't worry," Samantha added, her voice quieter now, but no less pointed. She stepped closer, her tone dropping just enough to make sure Vi heard every syllable. "It's not like Caitlyn's the type to wait around forever. She's worth more than that, you know." She let out a sharp, spiteful scoff, and Vi could feel the disappointment laced in her tone, cutting sharper than the words themselves. "Thought someone like you would get that."
Samantha didn't wait for a reply. She turned on her heel and walked off, leaving Vi to sit with the weight of her words. For once, Vi had no snarky comeback, no easy deflection. She just stared at the canvas in front of her, the blank space feeling heavier than it had any right to. Her hand tightened slightly on the brush, her jaw clenching as Samantha's words replayed in her head.
-ਠŕ§-
🎶: Swim - Chase Atlantic
The hall, once alive with chatter, music, and vibrant displays, was now quieter, though still bathed in the soft light of the fairy lights overhead. The tables were being cleared, the mural finished and standing proud, a testament to everything the day had stood for. Outside, the warm hues of the setting sun streamed through the tall windows, casting long, golden rays across the room, signaling the close of a day that had been as vibrant as it was meaningful.
Everyone had gathered by the stage, their faces flushed with a mix of exhaustion and pride. Caitlyn thanked everybody for their hard work and felt the room settle into a quiet hum of satisfaction, her gaze sweeping across the small crowd. Samantha and Seraphine stood nearby, their expressions mirroring the pride Caitlyn herself felt. But from the corner of her eye, Caitlyn caught something else—someone else—and her focus almost faltered. That gaze. Sharp, electric, unyielding. The same one that had set her on edge at the archery event weeks ago. She didn't need to turn her head to know who it belonged to.
Vi stood a little apart from the group, her hands shoved into her pockets, her posture relaxed but watchful. Her burgundy hair caught the soft glow of the lights, a stark contrast to her sharp, powder-blue eyes. The gaze wasn't invasive—it wasn't pleading, either. It was simply there.
Caitlyn's eyes flickered briefly to Garen and Lux standing next to Vi, both chatting easily. Lux's small laugh rang out, bright and easy, her hand brushing Vi's arm as she said something Caitlyn couldn't hear. Whatever it was, Vi didn't seem to notice; her gaze hadn't moved, hadn't faltered, and Caitlyn felt her chest tighten. Ah.
Caitlyn raised her hand in a final wave, her goodbye brisk but polite. "Thank you all again," she said, her voice calm and unwavering, but she felt her hands shivering. She turned to Samantha, a tear threatening to fall, and she just… Fuck this. Without a backward glance, she turned on her heel and walked away, almost sprinting off the stage. I need to get the fuck out of here.
-ਠŕ§-
Samantha caught the shift immediately, her brows knitting as she muttered under her breath. Shit.
Caitlyn was good at hiding things—too good—but Samantha had known her long enough to recognize when something wasn't right. She glanced at Seraphine, her voice low and urgent. "Cait's not feeling too good. Come on."
Without waiting for an answer, she set off after Caitlyn, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she followed her friend's hurried exit. Seraphine, her cheerful demeanor replaced by concern, nodded quickly and followed, weaving through the lingering volunteers.
By the time they reached the back of the stage, Caitlyn had disappeared into the shadows of the hallway.
-ਠŕ§-
Vi noticed everything.
The way Caitlyn's shoulders tensed as she raised her hand in that final wave. The slight tremor in her voice as she thanked everyone, barely keeping it steady. And then, the way she turned on her heel and practically bolted off the stage, leaving behind the composed image she usually wore like armor. A huge part of Vi wanted to act. To follow. To call out. To do something. But her feet stayed rooted to the floor.
Her hands curled into fists in her pockets, the urge to follow almost overpowering. She hated this feeling, the helplessness of standing still. But what the hell was she supposed to say? Hey, you okay? You look like you're barely holding it together—oh, and by the way, I can't stop thinking about you. She caught the flash of urgency in Samantha's face as she muttered something to Seraphine, the two of them quickly darting off after Caitlyn. Caitlyn had looked... fragile. She hated it.
"Vi?" Lux's voice broke into her thoughts, soft but insistent.
Vi glanced down as Lux's hand wrapped around her arm, When the fuck did she slid her hands in?, her grip gentle but firm, her bright eyes searching her face. "You okay?" Lux asked, her voice tinged with concern, though there was something else there too—an unspoken question.
Loris, ever the opportunist, slid an arm around Vi's shoulders, the other casually draping over Lux's. "Alright, Kane, you look like you need to chill. How about we grab some beers, huh? Celebrate the day?" he said, his tone light, a practiced grin on his face. "We killed it today, and I think that calls for a drink or three."
Garen, standing nearby, clapped a hand on Vi's back with the easy confidence only he could pull off. "Seconded. We deserve it."
Vi gave a faint smirk, though her focus was still somewhere else. "Sounds tempting," she said dryly, her voice lacking its usual edge. Her eyes flicked to the hallway Caitlyn had disappeared into, but she felt the weight of Loris's arm anchoring her in place. Lux hadn't let go of her arm either, her soft gaze lingering, as if silently willing Vi to stay.
Loris's grin faltered just slightly as he glanced toward the hallway Caitlyn had disappeared into. "Hey, where'd Caitlyn, Sam, and Sera run off to?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he craned his neck to look around the now-emptying hall.
Lux, ever quick on her feet, gave a small shrug, her hand still resting lightly on Vi's arm. "Probably tying up loose ends. You know how Caitlyn is," she said smoothly, her tone casual but just deliberate enough to guide the conversation. "She's probably buried in paperwork or doing some last-minute organizing with Sam and Sera. Let's not bother them—they've had a long day."
She shot Loris a pointed look, her smile just a fraction too sweet, as though silently urging him to drop it. "We should head out," she added lightly, glancing back at Vi, her grip on her arm firming ever so slightly. "Everyone deserves a break, especially you, Vi."
"Yeah," Vi said finally, her voice casual but distant. "Let's go." She offered a faint smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes and let herself be steered toward the exit. But even as she walked, her mind stayed on Caitlyn, the image of her hurried exit replaying in her head like a broken record. Whatever the hell was going on with Caitlyn, Vi couldn't shake the feeling that she'd missed something important. Something she might regret not chasing after.
You stupid motherf-.
-ਠŕ§-
🎶: Black Sheep - Metric
LoristheGOAT: Heading to the Last Drop with the gang. Come join. First round's on me.
Samantha's phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, glancing at the screen as she continued her search for Caitlyn. Sam rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth tugging upward despite herself. Classic Loris. Always the life of the party, always with a way of brushing off tension as easily as shaking snow off his shoulders.
Not this time, she thought grimly, pocketing her phone without a reply. Caitlyn's abrupt exit had rattled her more than she'd admit aloud, and the thought of her wandering off, upset and vulnerable, pushed any idea of beers and banter to the back of her mind.
Ahead of her, Seraphine had her phone pressed to her ear, pacing the length of the corridor. "Caitlyn, come on, pick up," she murmured, her normally cheerful tone tinged with worry. She paused, waiting, but there was no answer. Seraphine sighed, lowering her phone and glancing at Sam. "She's not picking up."
Sam muttered a quiet curse under her breath, her brow furrowing. "She can't have gone far. Check the dressing rooms; I'll try the exit doors."
Seraphine nodded, slipping her phone into her pocket as she turned toward the dressing rooms. "She'll be okay," she said softly, though her tone betrayed the uncertainty she felt. Sam nodded absently, already moving down the hallway, her eyes scanning every shadow and every corner. "She better be."
Seraphine quickly pulled out her phone, her fingers flying over the screen as she shot off a message.
BabySeraTunes: Hey Cait, where'd you go? You okay? We're all worried. Let me know where you are, okay? ️
-ਠŕ§-
Caitlyn hadn't realized how far she'd walked until her legs began to ache. She just kept moving, aimlessly wandering, her mind too tangled to pay attention to where she was going. Each step was an effort to escape the tightening in her chest, the prickling in her eyes that threatened to spill over if she so much as paused. She didn't want anyone to see her like this—crying for no real reason, or at least no reason she could properly name.
By the time she stopped, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of gold and purple. The open field stretched before her, bathed in the warm, fading light. The twilight breeze tugged at her hair, brushing against her skin like a whisper. She lowered herself onto the grass, the cool earth grounding her as she folded her legs beneath her. Closing her eyes, Caitlyn ran her fingers over the blades of grass, trying to calm her breathing. The quiet of the field wrapped around her, offering a fleeting moment of stillness she didn't know she needed.
Her phone buzzed again, and she sighed, pulling it from her pocket. The screen lit up with notifications: twenty missed calls from Sam, countless messages from Sera, and a slew of pings from group chats she didn't have the energy to read. She swiped them away without a second thought, her thumb hesitating over her HexGram app.
Out of habit—or maybe just a faint flicker of hope—she opened her DMs. Her heart gave a slight flutter as she scrolled, searching for something, anything, from a particular someone. But the inbox remained empty. No messages, no reassurances, no flirty quips that would have made her roll her eyes and yet… would have helped.
Nothing.
Oh my god Caitlyn. You have become officially pathetic.
The thought hit her like a slap, and she groaned, burying her face in her hands. She sank her head deeper into them, trying to breathe through the ache in her chest. She wanted to scream—just let it all out in one raw, cathartic burst—but even now, even alone, her pride wouldn't let her. The soft crunch of sneakers against gravel broke the stillness, faint at first, then growing louder. Caitlyn stiffened, her head still buried in her hands, before glancing up warily. A stranger approached, her figure silhouetted against the dimming twilight.
The sky was now a deep blue, the last traces of sunlight clinging stubbornly to the horizon, casting the stranger in an ethereal glow. She moved with purpose, her gait slow. Her short, platinum hair caught the last glimmers of light, its wild, untamed edges framing a face that seemed carved from quiet resilience. She wore a tank top and loose jogging pants, her muscular frame glistening faintly with sweat from what was clearly an intense run.
Caitlyn's eyes were drawn to hers first—pale green and sharp, like they could cut through the twilight itself. The stranger's expression was calm, unreadable, but there was something balanced about her, something that radiated quiet strength. The jogger slowed as she neared, her gaze flicking to Caitlyn. She lingered just long enough to take in the sight of her sitting there alone, and Caitlyn felt a pang of self-consciousness under that quiet scrutiny. She forced herself to sit up straighter, brushing stray grass from her skirt as if to mask the vulnerability she'd just been steeped in.
"You alright?" the stranger asked, her voice low and even. It was simple, unassuming. No judgment, no prying—just an offer.
Caitlyn blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of the question. She opened her mouth to respond but hesitated, unsure of what to say to this stranger who had appeared out of nowhere. "I… I'm fine," Caitlyn said finally, her voice too brisk to be convincing.
The stranger arched a brow, her gaze softening just slightly—not enough to betray pity, but enough to show she didn't quite buy it. She tilted her head toward the field. "It's peaceful here," she said, her tone measured. "Good place to clear your head."
Caitlyn nodded absently, her eyes following the stranger as she jogged in place for a moment, her breathing constant, her movements rhythmic. It looked like she was about to head off, but then, almost as if she'd decided against it at the last second, she slowed to a stop and stood there, hands resting lightly on her hips. She glanced back at Caitlyn, her sharp gaze softening further.
"You know," the stranger said, her voice quiet but firm, "if you want, I can stick around. Not to talk or anything, unless you feel like it. Just… to make sure you're not out here alone." She shrugged, her tone casual, as if offering company without strings attached was the most natural thing in the world.
Caitlyn just blinked. She opened her mouth to respond but hesitated, unsure of how to reply. She wasn't used to this kind of interaction—someone staying without expectation, just for the sake of it. The idea felt foreign but oddly comforting. "I-I'm fine really," Caitlyn said softly, though the words lacked conviction. She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, her gaze drifting to the horizon again.
The stranger didn't push. Instead, she lowered herself onto the grass a few feet away, sitting cross-legged, her posture relaxed and unintrusive. She kept her distance, enough to give Caitlyn space but close enough that her presence felt grounding. She didn't speak further, didn't look directly at Caitlyn. Instead, she gazed out at the fading horizon, her breathing slow and even as if she were simply soaking in the stillness.
Caitlyn glanced sideways, unsure of what to make of the quiet companionship. The stranger's presence wasn't invasive. It wasn't something Caitlyn had expected, but she didn't hate it. If anything, she felt a bit of the tension in her shoulders ease—not entirely, but enough to notice. For a long while, neither of them spoke. The breeze carried the faint rustle of grass, the world dimming into a quiet navy blue as the last light of day faded. Caitlyn found herself tracing the shapes of the stars that began to appear overhead, her breathing finally evening out as the weight in her chest loosened slightly. She didn't know the stranger's name or why she'd stayed, but for the first time in what felt like forever, Caitlyn didn't feel quite so alone.
-ਠŕ§-
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Samantha muttered to herself, swearing under her breath as she hurriedly scrolled through her phone. Caitlyn wasn't answering her calls, and Seraphine wasn't having any luck either. The irritation in her voice was tinged with real concern now, the sharp edge of frustration giving way to worry. She hit the call button and brought the phone to her ear, pacing in place as it rang. The moment Loris picked up, she didn't bother with pleasantries.
"Where are you?" Samantha demanded, her voice clipped. "Because we've got a situation."
"What's going on?" Loris asked, the noise of chatter and music from the Last Drop faint in the background. "And why do I feel like this situation's about to ruin my beer?"
"Because it is," Samantha shot back. "It's Caitlyn. She walked off during cleanup, and she's not answering. She looked upset—like really upset—and she's not the type to just ghost. I can't find her."
"What do you mean, you can't find her? Maybe she went to the range?" Loris suggested, his tone calm but with an undercurrent of urgency.
Samantha let out an exasperated groan, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You think that's not the first place I tried?!" she snapped, the irritation in her voice barely masking the rising worry bubbling beneath the surface. "Checked it. Not there. Not answering her phone. Nothing."
She stopped pacing, running a hand through her hair. Her voice lowered, tinged with real anxiety. "I can't call her mom. You know what would happen? The whole damn cavalry would be mobilized. We'd have helicopters, search dogs, maybe even news crews out here, and Cait would murder me." Samantha let out a frustrated sigh, glancing toward Seraphine, who was too far away to catch the conversation. As Samantha paced back and forth, still muttering to herself about Loris's lack of imagination, Seraphine's eyes lit up like a lightbulb had gone off above her head.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Seraphine said, holding up her hands dramatically to stop Samantha mid-rant.
"What now?" Samantha snapped, "Call you later," she quickly ends the call, spinning around to face her. "Unless you've got a tracking spell hidden in that pink hair of yours, I don't have time for another—"
"No, listen! HexGram!" Seraphine interrupted, pulling her phone out of her pocket with a flourish.
Samantha blinked. "What about it?"
Seraphine's fingers flew across her screen as she grinned triumphantly. "Cait's popular, right? Practically everyone on campus follows her. If I post something asking if anyone's seen her, we might get a lead. This place is way too big to cover on our own!"
Samantha's eyes narrowed, and she hesitated, clearly torn between frustration and reluctant approval. "And what exactly are you going to say? 'Hey, has anyone spotted Caitlyn Kiramman wandering around like a lost puppy?'"
"Better than nothing!" Seraphine shot back, already switching to her front-facing camera. "Trust me, people love to help when you give them a reason."
Samantha groaned but didn't stop her. "Fine. Just… keep it short. And don't say anything too dramatic, okay? The last thing we need is rumors flying."
Seraphine ignored her, angling her phone to get the soft glow of the evening lights behind her and hitting record. Her expression shifted instantly to a mix of concern and warmth, the kind of tone she knew people couldn't ignore.
"Hey, everyone!" Seraphine said, her voice firm but urgent. "We're looking for Caitlyn Kiramman—she's somewhere on campus, but it's a big place, and we need your help! If anyone's seen her—maybe near the open fields or around the quieter spots—please let us know ASAP. Just DM me or Samantha directly. Thanks, lovelies!" She ended the recording with a hopeful smile and immediately hit post, tagging Caitlyn's handle and adding the location for visibility.
-ਠŕ§-
🎶: Bitter Sweet Symphony (Instrumental) - Michael Maas, Sylvia Navarro
The Last Drop buzzed with its usual energy, the clinking of glasses and low hum of conversation blending into a comfortable background noise. Lux, Garen, and Vi sat around their table, the remnants of their laughter still lingering in the air. Empty beer bottles littered the surface, evidence of the rounds they'd already gone through. Garen leaned back in his chair, his easy grin plastered across his face as he recounted some story about a near-miss during football practice. Lux, perched on the edge of her seat, was fully engaged, her bright eyes glued to Garen as she laughed at his jokes. Her hand brushed against Vi's arm every so often, deliberate but casual, like she was trying to keep Vi anchored in the conversation. But Vi wasn't really there.
Her fingers toyed idly with the label on her beer bottle, peeling it back piece by piece. Her sharp blue eyes were distant, unfocused, fixed somewhere just past the edge of the table. She nodded occasionally, murmuring a vague "Yeah" or "Right" at all the appropriate intervals, but her mind was miles away.
"Vi? Hellooo?" Lux nudged her gently, her voice light and teasing. "You good over there?"
"Hm? Yeah, fine," Vi said, her response automatic, though her gaze still didn't quite meet Lux's. She took a swig of her beer, hoping it would drown the nagging feeling clawing at the edges of her thoughts. For someone who's got the whole flirty rebel act down to a science, you're pretty clueless when it comes to recognizing something real… Caitlyn's not the type to wait around forever. Vi swallowed hard, the words hitting a little too close. She leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping absently against the bottle in her hand, as if trying to push away the weight of what Samantha had said. But it lingered, a stubborn ache just beneath the surface, no matter how much she tried to shake it off.
Garen raised an eyebrow, catching on to her distracted state. "You sure? You've been real quiet tonight. That's not like you."
"Just tired," Vi muttered, her tone dismissive. She offered a half-smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes, and waved them off. "Keep talking. I'm listening."
Just then, Loris's phone buzzed loudly against the wood. He frowned, picking it up to glance at the screen, and his expression shifted immediately. Vi, ever observant, caught a glimpse of the screen before he turned it away—a heart-shaped emoji next to the caller ID. She snorted softly, trying to stifle a laugh, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her with a smirk.
"Hang on," he said, already standing up and heading for a quieter corner of the bar. "Gotta take this."
Vi's eyes flickered to Loris as he stepped away, his movements just a little too stiff, a little too deliberate. Something about his posture—a little too tense, a little too urgent—caught her attention. She frowned, her fingers stilling on the bottle label she'd been idly peeling. He didn't go far, just enough to carve out a sliver of privacy, but not enough to block out the conversation entirely. Vi tilted her head slightly, pretending to adjust her seat as her sharp ears caught snippets of the exchange.
"What do you mean, you can't find her?" Loris's voice, usually smooth and carefree, was edged with worry. "Have you tried the range?"
Vi's frown deepened. Who? Her fingers gripped the bottle tighter as she leaned slightly forward, her focus zeroed in on Loris. She couldn't catch the rest of the conversation—his voice dropped too low, and the buzz of the bar drowned out the words. But when he came back to the table, his usual easygoing demeanor was gone. Loris looked rattled, his jaw tight as he slid his phone into his pocket.
"What's up?" Garen asked, his brow furrowing at the shift in Loris's mood.
Loris hesitated, glancing at Vi before addressing the group. "Sam just called," he said, his voice more serious than usual. "Cait's missing. She walked off after the event and hasn't been answering her phone."
Vi's stomach dropped. Her heart pounded in her chest as she straightened in her seat, her bottle forgotten. "What do you mean missing?" she demanded, her voice sharper than intended. "How long has she been gone?"
Loris held up his hands, trying to calm the sudden tension. "Look, she's probably fine," he said quickly, though the worry in his eyes betrayed his words. "Sam and Sera have been trying to find her for the past hour, but she's not picking up. Sam said she'll call back later."
"An hour?" Vi's chair scraped loudly as she stood, the sound cutting through the conversation. Her fists clenched at her sides as her mind raced. Caitlyn, out there alone, not answering her phone? That wasn't like her. "And they waited this long to say something?"
-ਠŕ§-
Caitlyn hadn't kept track of time. She let the minutes slip by, the gentle hum of the evening breeze brushing against her skin as she stared out into the open field. The quiet was soothing—something she hadn't realized she needed until now. She was just enjoying the moment of silence, funny enough, with a stranger only a few feet away. Her gaze drifted over to the jogger, who had shifted slightly, now leaning back on her hands with her legs stretched out in front of her. Caitlyn tilted her head slightly, squinting against the fading light. Is she… sleeping? she wondered, noticing the stranger's eyes closed, her breathing in a constant rhythm. The jogger's face was almost serene, her posture relaxed as if the world had melted away. Caitlyn felt a pang of something she couldn't quite name—was it envy? She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt that peaceful, that centered. She studied the stranger's features for a moment longer, the strong lines of her face softened by the dusky light. There was something grounding about her presence, like she belonged to this stillness in a way Caitlyn didn't.
"You know," the stranger said suddenly, her voice low and unwavering, cutting through the quiet. Her eyes remained closed, her posture unchanging, as if the words had floated out effortlessly. "You're overthinking something."
Caitlyn blinked, startled. "What?"
The jogger cracked one eye open, just barely, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Whatever's got you tied up in knots," she said, her tone composed but with an edge of knowing. "You've been staring at the field like it's got all the answers. Newsflash: it doesn't."
Caitlyn opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Was I that obvious? She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and quickly turned her gaze back to the horizon, unsure whether to feel annoyed or embarrassed. The stranger closed her eye again, her smirk softening into something gentler. "Didn't mean to call you out or anything," she said, her tone lighter now, almost casual. "Just saying… sometimes it helps to stop chasing the answers and let them come to you." She paused, her face shifting into something more thoughtful as she let the quiet settle between them. "This field? This quiet? It's good for that," she added, her voice soft but certain, like she wasn't just making conversation—she was offering something real.
Caitlyn exhaled sharply, not sure whether to be grateful or irritated. "You don't even know what I'm dealing with."
"Don't have to," the jogger replied easily. "Overthinking's overthinking. Doesn't matter what the problem is." She let out a soft, content sigh, her breathing calm again, as if she hadn't just dropped a small truth bomb in the middle of the peaceful silence.
Caitlyn stared at her, unsure whether she was wise, infuriating, or both. How… infuriating. Who does she think she is, giving me advice like she's got me all figured out? She let out a quiet huff, pressing her lips together to keep the words trapped where they belonged—in her head. And she's not wrong either.
The stranger shifted slightly, cracking one eye open to glance at Caitlyn. Her gaze was calm, but there was a flicker of curiosity there, like she was gauging Caitlyn's reaction. Caitlyn quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the horizon, though her fingers fidgeted with a stray blade of grass. The stranger sat up straighter, crossing her legs now as she rested her elbows on her knees, still exuding that same unshakeable calm. "Riven," she said simply, her voice as steady as the rest of her.
Caitlyn blinked, turning her head back toward her. "Pardon?"
"That's my name," the jogger clarified, her lips curling into a faint, almost teasing smile. "Figured it's less awkward than you calling me something else inside your head."
Caitlyn's cheeks warmed slightly, and she opened her mouth to retort—the audacity of this cheeky little…—but found herself stifling a reluctant smile instead. "Caitlyn," she offered after a beat, her tone still guarded.
Riven nodded, her expression easy and unassuming, as if they weren't two strangers sharing an unexpectedly personal moment in the middle of campus. "Nice to meet you, Caitlyn," she said, leaning back again, this time propping herself on her elbows, her gaze shifting back to the open field. "Now it's only half as awkward."
The quiet stretched between them, but this time, Caitlyn didn't mind. Riven seemed content, her pale green eyes flicking between the horizon and the darkening sky, as if the moment was hers to savor. For a second, Caitlyn considered leaving, but something kept her rooted there, the words forming on her tongue before she could stop them. "What if the answers don't come?" she asked quietly, her voice just loud enough to carry over the soft breeze. She wasn't sure why she said it—maybe it was the stillness, or the jogger's calming presence. Maybe she just needed to let it out. "What if… I don't figure it out?"
Riven tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful but unreadable. She didn't respond right away, and Caitlyn found herself holding her breath, half-wishing she hadn't spoken at all. But when Riven finally answered, her voice without judgment. "Then you keep going," she said simply, her pale green eyes meeting Caitlyn's. "Not everything gets figured out in one sitting. Sometimes it's enough just to sit."
Caitlyn triple blinked by the simplicity of the answer. She opened her mouth, ready to push back, to argue that it wasn't that easy—but something in Riven's gaze stopped her. It wasn't condescending or dismissive. It was solid, grounded, and unshakable, like she'd been there before.
"I don't…" Caitlyn faltered, her fingers curling into the grass. "I'm not good at waiting. At… sitting."
Riven gave a faint smile, leaning forward slightly, her hands resting on her knees now. "No one is," she said. "But sometimes, chasing after answers just makes them run farther away." She gestured toward the field with a slight tilt of her head. "This? This is the kind of place that reminds you how to stop. Even if it's just for a little while."
Caitlyn looked back at the field, her chest tightening. The open space, the fading light—it did feel different now. Less like emptiness and more like… possibility. She wasn't sure if she believed Riven entirely, but for the first time in a while, the knot in her chest loosened, just a little. "How do you know so much about this?" Caitlyn asked after a beat, her tone quieter, more curious than defensive.
Riven's smile turned wry, a flicker of something old and heavy passing across her face before she masked it. "Let's just say I've spent a lot of time sitting. Figuring out when to stop and when to move."
Caitlyn nodded slowly, absorbing the words. She didn't reply, didn't need to. Instead, she let herself sit in the quiet, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly. Riven didn't say anything more either, content to let the silence speak for them both. For once, Caitlyn didn't feel the urge to fill it. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
Caitlyn felt her phone buzz again, breaking the quiet rhythm of the moment. She sighed, pulling it out of her pocket and glancing at the screen. Her stomach dropped slightly when she saw the name flashing across it: Sam. Of course. She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen. She knew she couldn't ignore it forever—Sam would just keep calling—but the idea of talking to anyone right now felt like trying to run a marathon with lead in her shoes. She glanced sideways at Riven, who was still quietly gazing out at the field, completely unbothered. Caitlyn turned back to the phone, swallowing her hesitation as she hit accept and brought it to her ear. "Sam—" she began, her voice quieter than she intended, while instinctively turning away from Riven.
Her friend's voice cut through immediately, sharp and exasperated. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Cait, where the hell are you?! We've been looking everywhere!"
Caitlyn winced at the urgency in her tone, suddenly acutely aware of how far she'd wandered from everything and everyone. "I'm fine," she said, her voice quieter than she intended. "Just… needed a minute."
"A minute?!" Sam's voice dropped, softer now but no less concerned. "Cait, you've been gone for an hour. Seraphine's about ready to put out a missing persons alert on HexGram."
Caitlyn widened her eyes in shock and horror, gripping the phone tighter. "She... what?!" she hissed, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper as she turned slightly away from Riven. She bit her lip, trying to suppress her rising panic. The last thing she wanted was to give the stranger any more reason to judge her—or worse, look amused. Riven didn't seem to notice, her cool expression unchanged, though Caitlyn swore she caught a flicker of curiosity in her periphery.
Sam's voice came through the phone, urgent and unwavering. "Where are you?!"
Caitlyn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to quiet down her thoughts. "I'll be at the quad soon," she replied, her tone low but firm, glancing briefly at the fading light across the field. "I'll meet you there." She hung up before Samantha could argue further, turning the phone over in her hand.
Riven spoke for the first time since the call had started, her voice laced with quiet amusement. "Friends of yours?" she asked, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on her lips. Caitlyn turned toward her, ready with a curt response, but the words stalled in her throat. Riven's smile wasn't just amused—it was effortlessly charming, the kind of smile that seemed to light up her whole face without trying. Caitlyn's gaze lingered a moment too long, and she felt a faint warmth rise in her cheeks. "I... I have to go," she whispered, trying to sound composed but failing to mask the slight tremor in her tone.
Riven didn't say anything at first, just kept that easy, charming smile on her face. Her green eyes held Caitlyn's for a moment longer, unshifting and unbothered, as if she'd already expected this. Then, with a small nod, she leaned back on her hands, still relaxed and at ease. "Take it easy," Riven said finally, her voice calm but carrying an understated warmth. That smile lingered, soft and unassuming, as Caitlyn turned away, clutching her phone a little tighter than necessary. Caitlyn hesitated as she stood, brushing the grass from her skirt with deliberate slowness. She took a few steps away, before stopping abruptly. She bit her lip, glancing back at Riven, who remained exactly as she was—peaceful, and seemingly content in the stillness. Hmm… Maybe…
"Would you…" Caitlyn's voice faltered, barely audible over the soft breeze. She cleared her throat, her cheeks warming slightly as she steadied herself. "Would you walk with me?"
Riven opened her eyes fully, her pale green gaze locking onto Caitlyn's, and for a second, it felt like the world hit pause. Her head tilted just enough to hold the moment, her expression thoughtful but totally felt caught off guard, not in a bad way—just in a way that made her feel a little too seen. Like Riven wasn't trying to pry but still managed to get it somehow. Then, just like that, Riven smiled, and it was... unfairly nice. It was the kind of easy, charming smile that softened Riven's sharp features in a way Caitlyn hadn't expected. She hadn't met anyone quite like her before—so calm, yet effortlessly engaging. Nice and charming at the same time, without any pretense or bravado. Compared to Vi, who was all fire and storm, Riven felt like the calm after—the grounding quiet that made you stop and breathe.
The last streaks of twilight hit just right, brushing against Riven's cheekbones and making her look way too cool for someone who'd just been sitting in the grass like it was no big deal. "Sure," Riven said simply, pushing herself up with an easy grace. She dusted off her hands, standing tall but unassuming, and gestured toward the path ahead. "Lead the way."
Caitlyn nodded, her lips pressing together in a small, reluctant smile of her own. She turned, the faint sound of Riven's footsteps following hers giving her an odd sense of comfort she hadn't expected.
END OF CHAPTER FOUR