The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. For some reason—one I could no longer justify—I had allowed Diana to sleep in the same bed as me.
Matching gowns. Matching blankets. A dangerous combination.
I had no idea why I even had two of the same silky nightgowns in my closet, but here we were, both of us draped in the cool fabric, lying under the same set of covers. The air was quiet, save for the soft rustling of sheets and the faint nighttime breeze slipping through the window.
Diana, as expected, was taking full advantage of the situation.
"Your bed is really nice, Sera," she murmured, stretching languidly like a cat. "It's warm, cozy... and it smells just like you."
She buried her face into my pillow, inhaling deeply before exhaling with a satisfied hum.
I immediately turned red. "Don't do that!" I sputtered, grabbing the nearest pillow and chucking it at her. "That's embarrassing!"
Instead of dodging, she let the pillow hit her square in the face. And then, she burst out laughing, completely unfazed.
"You're too easy to tease," she giggled, tossing the pillow aside. Her golden eyes gleamed in the dim light as she turned onto her side, propping her head up with one hand. "Seriously, Sera, you're adorable when you get flustered."
I groaned, pulling the covers up to my face. "I regret this decision already."
Diana reached over and tugged the blanket down just enough to see my eyes. "No, you don't."
I glared at her. "I do."
She smirked. "Nope."
"Yes."
"Nope."
I groaned again, rolling onto my side to face away from her. "Go to sleep, Diana."
A beat of silence passed. Then, I felt her shift closer, her warmth radiating against my back.
"You know…" she murmured, her voice lower this time, softer, almost thoughtful. "I wasn't kidding when I said I missed you, Sera."
I tensed slightly, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in her tone.
Diana was many things—playful, cunning, absolutely insufferable when she wanted to be—but there was a rare kind of honesty in her voice right now that made my heart do something very inconvenient in my chest.
"...Yeah," I said quietly, after a moment. "I missed you too."
The silence stretched between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was warm, filled with something unspoken.
Then, I felt it—the faintest brush of fingers against my own beneath the sheets. A simple touch. Tentative. Uncertain.
I could pretend not to notice.
Or...
I could let my fingers curl, just slightly, brushing against hers in return.
And so, against my better judgment—against all common sense—I did.
Diana's breath hitched, just barely. Then, I felt her fingers lace through mine, her grip gentle but firm—like she was anchoring herself, like she wanted to make sure I was real.
Her voice broke the stillness. "One more day until we return to the academy." She hummed thoughtfully, her fingers playing with mine absentmindedly. "I wonder what expressions the four of them will make when they see us arrive together… in the same carriage… holding hands… looking all lovely and cozy—"
I cut her off with a light squeeze of her hand. "Just go to sleep, Diana."
She let out a soft chuckle but didn't push further. For a moment, I thought she was about to actually listen to me for once.
Then, her voice lowered. "I was just trying to get a few things off my mind. The situation at the North Gate… it's been bothering me a lot. I don't know why, but I can't shake the feeling that it's more than just monsters."
My grip on her hand tightened slightly. "…I understand. It's always in the back of my mind too. Things are changing—whether for the better or for the worse, we don't know yet."
A heavy silence settled between us, the kind that didn't need words to be understood. The weight of uncertainty, the quiet fear of what lay ahead.
Finally, Diana broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Sera… what do you think will happen if the monsters reach the North Gate?"
I turned my head slightly, meeting her gaze. In the dim moonlight, her emerald eyes looked softer, more vulnerable than I'd ever seen them.
"…I don't know," I admitted honestly. "But if it happens, if they do break through…" I hesitated. "Then we'll have no choice but to fight."
Diana didn't respond right away. She simply stared at me, something unreadable in her expression. And then, without warning, she moved.
Before I could react, she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.
Warmth.
That was the first thing I noticed. How warm she was, how her arms fit so naturally around me, as if she had always belonged there. She pressed herself closer, her forehead resting against my collarbone as her fingers curled against the fabric of my nightgown.
"…I don't want things to change," she whispered, and for the first time, her voice wasn't teasing or playful. It was raw, fragile in a way I had never heard before. "I just want everything to stay as it is."
I felt my chest tighten at the quiet crack in her voice. This wasn't the confident, cunning Diana Hayes that everyone knew. This was a girl who was scared—not of monsters or battles, but of losing what she had now.
I hesitated for only a moment before lifting a hand, resting it lightly on the back of her head.
"…Me too," I admitted, my voice barely above a breath. "But we both know that's not how things work."
She let out a shaky exhale, fingers tightening slightly against my back. "I know. But I can still hope, can't I?"
I closed my eyes, letting my chin rest lightly atop her head.
"…Yeah. You can."
For now, I let her hold on to me, to the present, to the fleeting moment of peace before the storm.
Because we both knew—change was coming. And when it did, we wouldn't be able to run from it.
I turned my gaze to the window, the stars twinkling against the vast darkness, a quiet reminder of how small we really were in the grand scheme of things. And then—just for a fleeting second—a streak of silver cut across the sky, burning bright before disappearing into the unknown.
"Look, Diana," I murmured, nudging her gently. "A shooting star. Make a wish."
She stirred slightly against me, then lifted herself from my chest to glance outside. I swore I could see the star's reflection in her emerald eyes—glowing, flickering, disappearing—like something fragile that she wanted to hold onto.
Her lips parted, but she hesitated. "…Is it okay to wish for something selfish?" she finally asked, her voice quiet.
I blinked at her. "Aren't all wishes technically selfish?"
Diana let out a soft breath, then closed her eyes. "Okay then..." She paused, as if weighing the words on her tongue. "I wish for nothing to change. For everything to stay the same as it is. That the six of us can all stay together. That the academy will always be a place we can come back to."
She said it so softly, so gently, that my chest ached at the weight behind it. It was a simple wish, but one I already knew couldn't last forever. No matter how much we wanted things to stay frozen in time, life had a way of pulling people apart.
But for now… maybe pretending wasn't so bad.
I exhaled, reaching out to run my fingers through her hair. It was silky and smooth beneath my touch, cascading like a river of midnight shadows against the moonlight.
"I didn't know you had this soft side to you," I teased, my lips quirking into a small smile.
Diana glanced at me, amusement flickering in her eyes before she reached out and poked my arm. "I don't. Right now, you're currently dreaming."
I snorted. "Oh, so none of this is real? The great Diana Hayes being vulnerable? Just a dream?"
"Exactly," she said, deadpan, but there was a glimmer of warmth behind her teasing.
I shook my head, letting out a small laugh. "Well then, dream Diana, if you're going to keep making wishes, maybe wish for something more realistic. Like not annoying me for once."
She gasped, feigning offense. "Never."
I smiled, feeling the tension from earlier ease just a little.
Even if things had to change, even if uncertainty loomed over us like a shadow… for this moment, under the quiet hum of the stars, we were still just us.
And for now, that was enough.
Diana let out a soft sigh before nestling back against me, her warmth pressing into mine, as if she belonged there—like she had always belonged there. I barely had time to process it before I felt the gentle brush of her lips against my collarbone. A feather-light touch. Then another. And another.
Soft. Unrushed. Almost absentminded.
"D-Diana—" My breath hitched, but she only hummed in response, her arms tightening around my waist as she buried her face into the crook of my neck.
"Goodnight, Sera," she murmured, her voice drowsy, her lips still lingering against my skin for just a second longer before she finally relaxed.
I swallowed thickly, my heart pounding an erratic rhythm against my ribs. My entire body was frozen stiff, my mind short-circuiting as I tried to decide whether to push her away, yell at her, or simply… let it happen.
In the end, I did nothing.
Instead, I sighed, shaking my head with a small, exasperated smile she couldn't see. "Goodnight, Diana," I whispered, resting my chin against the top of her head.
Her breathing evened out within minutes, her warmth completely engulfing me.
And even though I knew I should be wary, even though my mind screamed at me to keep my guard up—
I closed my eyes.
And let myself drift into sleep.