Emily stood just beyond the rows of bookshelves, her grip tightening unconsciously around the books in her arms. Her gaze had landed on him the moment she stepped in—Ethan, seated in the golden hush of the library beside a girl with quiet eyes and a calm presence.
Jane, she remembered her name vaguely. One of the upperclassmen. A senior, known for her composure and sharp analysis in both combat and theory.
They looked… close. Not overly so. But close enough.
Ethan leaned slightly toward her, their conversation low, unforced. There was an ease in the way he smiled, in the way Jane met his gaze and spoke to him with quiet familiarity. The kind of familiarity that didn't need to be spoken aloud. The kind that built slowly, brick by brick, with time and trust and long conversations not everyone got to hear.
Emily's throat tightened.
