*Trigger Warnings*: Bullying, high school drama, nightmares, underage drinking, overall cringe, romance????
I was back at school, but everything felt wrong—distorted, like the world was spinning on its axis. I stood in the hallway, surrounded by whispers, every pair of eyes on me. The glares, the looks of judgment, the snickers that felt louder than any voice. My chest tightened, breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
Then I saw them. Nakita and the boys. They were walking toward me, their eyes cold, their sneers sharp. I tried to turn away, but my legs felt frozen, rooted to the spot. My heart was pounding, each beat echoing in my ears.
"Look who decided to show up," Nakita said, her voice dripping with venom.
I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words felt stuck, trapped in the back of my throat.
And then, Miras appeared—looking calm, detached, almost as if he didn't recognize me. As if he wasn't there for me.
"Don't you think you've caused enough trouble?" one of the boys sneered, pushing past Miras and shoving me into the lockers.
The sound of metal slamming against metal sent me reeling. I tried to reach for Miras, but he turned away, as if everything that had happened between us—everything I thought we had—meant nothing.
I was alone.
"Miras..." I tried to call out, but it came out more like a whisper. My hand reached for him instinctively, desperate for something to hold onto. But when he looked at me, his gaze was distant, almost cold.
He took a step back. "You've already made your choice," he said, his voice hollow and flat, as though he wasn't really there. "Maybe it's time to accept the consequences, Cherish."
I froze, heart stopping in my chest. The words didn't make sense, but the weight of them crushed me all the same. This wasn't the Miras I knew—the Miras who had always been by my side, who had helped me through everything. This Miras was distant, detached, and it felt like the most painful thing in the world to watch him walk away from me.
"Miras, please," I begged, but my voice barely broke through the thick fog of confusion and dread clouding the air.
And then they were all around me—the boys, Nakita, the students, all closing in, the whispers growing louder, more frenzied, until I couldn't hear anything but the sound of my own racing heart.
"You don't belong here," Nakita spat. "You never did."
And just like that, I was surrounded, trapped in a circle of judgment and cruelty, with nowhere to run, no escape. The faces around me shifted into something else—shadowed, distorted versions of people I knew, their eyes filled with anger and disappointment. The world spun, dizzying and relentless, and I felt myself losing my grip, my very sense of reality.
I woke up with a start, my heart thundering in my chest as the remnants of the nightmare clung to me, thick and suffocating. My breath was shallow, ragged, and I could still hear the echoes of cruel voices in my mind. The harshness of Nakita's words, the cold distance in Miras' eyes—everything felt so real, like the world was spinning out of control. But then, I blinked, and the nightmare started to fade. My room came into focus. The walls. The soft light filtering through the blinds.
I was awake.
I gasped for air, trying to push the anxiety away, but my heart refused to settle. My mind kept returning to the dream—the feeling of being abandoned, trapped, alone. It was still there, a lingering weight pressing down on my chest.
It took a few seconds for me to register that I wasn't alone in the room.
Miras was standing by the bed, his back to me as he pulled on his shirt. My breath hitched before I could stop it. The way his muscles shifted under his skin, the way his broad shoulders flexed—it was like my whole body froze. I stared at him, frozen in place, my heartbeat suddenly racing in a completely different way. I felt heat creep up my neck, flushing my face in an instant.
I had to look away. Had to. But my eyes lingered for a moment too long, and I could feel the warmth spreading across my cheeks, making it impossible to breathe normally. He hadn't noticed me yet, right? I wasn't sure. I was too embarrassed to even look again.
My heart pounded against my ribcage as I quickly turned my face toward the wall, desperately trying to shake off the sudden wave of discomfort. Why was he doing this now? Of all the times to get dressed...
I couldn't think straight. The air felt thick, charged. Every muscle in my body felt tight, as though I was bracing for something, even though I had no idea what. I couldn't even explain why it felt so... awkward. Was it just the dream still lingering, or was it because I was suddenly hyper-aware of him in a way I hadn't been before?
A few moments passed, and I could hear him moving behind me, pulling his shirt over his head. The faint rustle of fabric was the only sound breaking the silence, but it felt louder than anything. When he finally turned around, my stomach flipped. I quickly looked down at the bed, willing my heart to slow down.
"Good morning," he said, his voice low, casual—like everything was normal. But I was still reeling from the sudden shift in the air between us.
I barely trusted myself to speak. My voice was caught somewhere between the dream and the strange tension that hung in the room now. It took a second for me to find my words, and when I did, they were shaky, quiet. "Morning."
I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I was still flushed, my heart still racing, and there was this strange feeling lingering in my chest, an unease I couldn't quite place. Miras, of course, noticed something was off. His eyes softened, but he didn't push. He just studied me for a moment, like he understood more than I was saying. Maybe he could feel it too—the awkwardness.
I swallowed hard, trying to focus, trying to make sense of it all. "I... had a strange dream," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Bad one?" he asked, his voice so steady, so calm, that it almost made me feel safe.
I nodded, but the words caught in my throat. "Yeah. But... it's over now."
He didn't press. Instead, he gave me a small, almost imperceptible smile. It wasn't the smile of someone who didn't care, but one of someone who understood, someone who wasn't going to push me when I wasn't ready. I couldn't explain it, but something in that smile made everything feel a little lighter. Maybe it was just the smallest thing, but it made me feel less alone. Even after the nightmare, even after the tension in the room.
"Lunch starts in a few hours," Miras smoothed over his shirt with his palms. "I figured we could get there by the time it ends, just go straight to class."
I let out a hum, too distracted by my other thoughts to conjure an actual response.
"If you aren't ready Cherish, I can go by myself. I don't want you to come if you aren't ready."
"I'm fine," I said with a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Besides you shouldn't go by yourself."
"So," he began, his tone light, almost playful. "You think I can't handle school by myself, huh?"
I looked up at him, a little caught off guard by the shift in his attitude. His eyes were sparkling, that mischievous glint dancing in the depths. "I didn't say that," I said quickly, a hint of defensiveness in my voice, though I couldn't help but smile in return.
"Oh, you didn't have to," Miras teased, nudging me lightly with his shoulder. "You're worried I'd get lost in the cafeteria? Can't figure out where to sit without you there to hold my hand?"
I rolled my eyes, but there was a warmth creeping up my neck as I tried to keep the playful tone at bay. "You're not that helpless," I said, my voice tinged with the faintest bit of exasperation.
Miras raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the way I was reacting. "I don't know," he said with a mock-thoughtful expression. "I've been known to get pretty lost when I don't have a... good guide around." Miras smirked, his gaze never leaving mine. "I know," he said with a soft, almost teasing note in his voice. "But maybe I wouldn't mind the company, just this once." Before I could say anything else, he nudged me again, breaking the tension just a little. "Come on," he said, his grin widening. "Let's not keep the world waiting. I don't want to make a scene with all the girls swooning over me at lunch."
I rolled my eyes again, though the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. "As if anyone would swoon over you," I muttered, but there was a softness in my voice, the teasing lighter now, as if we were both navigating the same quiet moment of understanding.
Miras chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. "You'd be surprised, Cherish."
I was surprised when I went downstairs to see Dr. Amar standing in my kitchen. Both surprised and frightened. Miras had decided to do some quick physiotherapy before we left. And somehow once again I was left alone with Dr. Amar and his weird fascination with my bracelet and the cube. I wanted to say something, to break the silence, but the words felt stuck in my throat. He wasn't just an ordinary doctor. There was something about the way he carried himself, the way he spoke with that slow, deliberate cadence, like he knew more than he was letting on. And the way he was looking at my bracelet now made me uneasy.
Dr. Amar finally turned his attention toward me, his eyes narrowing for a moment, as if assessing my every move. "Ah, Cherish," he said, his voice smooth, a touch too calm. "I didn't expect you to be awake just yet."
I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but I didn't like the way his eyes flickered back to the bracelet and then to me. I shifted uncomfortably, crossing my arms over my chest. "What are you doing here?" I managed to ask, my voice coming out a little sharper than I intended.
"Getting myself some coffee. I was up all night furthering my research. Would you like some?"
"No." My eyes narrowed in on him, as if I was trying to catch him in a lie. "Thank you."
Realizing I was still standing in the middle of the stairs, I took a step down. "So how much longer do you think you'll be here researching the cube?" I didn't try to hide the sour tone in my voice, making sure he knew full well what I was implying.
Dr. Amar raised the cup of coffee to his lips, his movements unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world. He took a sip, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in what could have been amusement—or a smirk. It was hard to tell.
"Ah, the cube." He placed the mug down on the counter and leaned back against it, crossing his arms casually. "Such a fascinating object, don't you think? It holds... untold possibilities. I'd imagine you, of all people, would be eager to uncover its secrets."
His words carried a weight I didn't fully understand, but the way he said you, of all people, felt deliberate, like he was hinting at something I wasn't privy to.
"I'm more concerned about how much of a disruption it's been," I shot back, stepping fully into the kitchen. "And how you've managed to insert yourself into every corner of this situation."
"You're imagining things," he said firmly.
"You're not answering my question," I said, deflecting. "How much longer are you planning to stay here? Because whatever your research is, it's starting to feel... invasive."
He straightened, his expression turning more serious. "I'll stay as long as I'm needed. Whether you believe it or not, Cherish, I'm here to help. But I suggest you start asking yourself why the cube reacts the way it does around you—and why you're so determined to push away the answers."
The sound of footsteps broke the tension, and both our heads turned. Miras stepped in, his presence grounding and reassuring, as if he could sense the shift in the room.
Miras gaze lingering on me. "Cherish, are you ready to head out?"
"Yes," I said, perhaps a little too quickly. I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair and moved toward the door, eager to put some distance between myself and Dr. Amar.
As I passed him, he leaned in slightly, his voice just low enough for only me to hear. "Think about what I said, Cherish. The answers are closer than you think."
I didn't respond, refusing to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I followed Miras out the door, the weight of Dr. Amar's words settling heavily in my chest.
The hallway felt louder than I remembered. Every laugh, every slamming locker, every shouted conversation was amplified, like it was trying to push me out. I stayed close to Miras, my shoulder brushing his arm as we walked. He moved with his usual confidence, but I could see the slight stiffness in his steps. He was still healing, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise.
I kept my eyes on the floor, counting the tiles as we passed, until I heard it. That laugh. Shrill and sharp, slicing through the noise like a knife. My stomach dropped.
"Well, well, if it isn't the happy couple."
I didn't have to look to know it was Nakita. I could feel her words crawling across my skin like they'd been aimed directly at me.
Miras stopped, and I almost bumped into him. I wanted to grab his arm, to pull him away, but he stood his ground. Slowly, I lifted my head and met her gaze. She was leaning against a row of lockers, her arms crossed and a smirk plastered across her face. Her two lackeys flanked her, grinning like they'd already won some invisible battle.
"You've got something to say, Nakita," Miras said, his voice steady but cold, "or are you just here to waste everyone's time?"
I could feel his anger simmering just beneath the surface, tightly controlled but ready to boil over.
Nakita tilted her head, her smirk growing. "Oh, I've got plenty to say. Like how surprised I am to see you walking around after that little... incident. I guess miracles do happen."
Her words felt like a slap, but Miras didn't flinch. "You mean the incident where you and your pack of cowards jumped me in the parking lot?" he shot back. "Yeah, that was real brave of you."
I tightened my grip on my bag, my knuckles turning white. The memory of that night was still fresh—Miras bloodied and battered, the way he'd tried to brush it off even though I could see how much pain he was in.
"Come on," Nakita said with a shrug, her tone mock-innocent. "Don't be so dramatic. You've got your little nursemaid here to patch you up, don't you?"
For a moment, her words hung in the air, the smug grin on Nakita's face daring me to respond. My blood boiled as her words echoed in my head, but this time, I wasn't going to stand there and let her twist the knife.
I stepped out from behind Miras, my pulse pounding in my ears. "You mean like when I put you in the ICU?"
Nakita's smirk froze, and the color drained from her face. Her two lackeys exchanged wide-eyed glances, their laughter cutting off like someone had flipped a switch.
"What's the matter, Nakita?" I said taking another step, my voice steady and low, though my heart was racing. "Did you forget how that went? You sure didn't seem so tough when you were on the floor, crying for someone to help you."
Miras glanced at me, his brows raised in surprise, but he didn't interrupt. He just stepped aside, letting me have the space to finish what I started.
Nakita's composure cracked further. Her jaw clenched, and I saw the flicker of anger—and humiliation—in her eyes. "That was a cheap shot," she snapped, trying to recover. "You got lucky."
"Lucky?" I repeated, taking a step closer. My voice rose slightly, the anger bubbling to the surface. "You and your friends cornered Miras in a parking lot like a pack of jackals, and you want to talk about luck? You've got no idea what a fair fight looks like, Nakita. But you'd better believe I'd remind you if I have to."
I must have gotten too close. The bodyguard to her right–who I knew by the name of Ben stepped forward. He was tall enough to tower over me, but I didn't move.
"You're one to talk. I seem to remember during midterm season you weren't much of a fighter. But I guess you wouldn't be if you were practically going around asking for it. And if you ask me, it seems like you're asking for it all over again."
Before I could respond, Miras grabbed me by the shoulder moving me behind him. He was still healing, but in that moment, he looked as solid as a brick wall.
"You want to threaten someone, Ben?" he said, his voice calm but deadly. "Try me. I'm right here."
Ben straightened up, clearly sizing him up. Miras was without a doubt the strongest guy at school, but Ben had the advantage of being uninjured, and he knew it.
"Careful, tough guy," Ben said, his smirk returning. "Wouldn't want you hurting yourself again."
Miras took a step forward, his expression hardening. "I'm not scared of you," he said evenly. "But you should be scared of what'll happen if you even think about touching her."
Nakita's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "We'll see how long the happy couple charade lasts," she sneered, grabbing Ben's arm before he could take another step toward us. Her grin was sharp, cruel, her eyes darting between me and Miras like she was sizing up just how far she could push.
Miras's jaw clenched, but he let me pull him back, his sharp gaze never leaving Ben. "You'd better hope I don't catch you near her again," he said, his voice low and cold.
Ben glared but stayed where he was, Nakita holding him back with a grip that looked deceptively casual. "Careful, lover boy," she mocked. "You're not exactly in peak condition. Wouldn't want to end up in the nurse's office again, would you?"
I felt Miras tense again, and I quickly stepped in front of him, forcing Nakita to focus on me instead. "You're the one who should be careful," I snapped, my voice steady even though my pulse was racing. "Because the last time you underestimated me, it didn't end well for you, did it?"
Nakita's smirk faltered for the briefest moment, her eyes narrowing. "Big talk for someone hiding behind her boyfriend," she said, her tone venomous.
I took a step forward, closing the distance between us. "If you think I need him to handle you, you're welcome to try me again."
Her lackeys exchanged uneasy glances, clearly remembering how our last encounter had ended. Nakita's confidence wavered, but she masked it quickly, her grin returning with forced bravado. "You've got fire," she said, her tone dripping with condescension. "Too bad it won't help you when this all falls apart."
Miras's hand brushed against my arm, a silent signal that we didn't need to give her any more of our energy. I glanced back at him, his expression calm but steely, and nodded.
"We're done here," I said, turning away from Nakita. "Let's go."
Miras and I walked away together, leaving Nakita and her gang behind. I could feel her glare boring into my back, but I didn't look back.
"She's going to keep pushing," I said quietly as we rounded the corner, my voice trembling slightly now that the confrontation was over.
"Let her," Miras replied, his tone steady despite the faint strain in it. "She might act tough but she's nothing but a facade."
---
"Not many people can take a two week leave of absence and still remain top of the class," the teacher's voice broke us away from our suffering conversation. "Glad to have you back, Cherish. Try to stay for the rest of the school year."
The teacher's words cut through the moment like a sharp blade, leaving an awkward silence in their wake. A few heads turned toward me, subtle but enough to make the back of my neck prickle with heat. I managed a stiff nod in response, mumbling a quick, "Thanks," before looking down at my desk like it held all the answers to my embarrassment.
Before he could say anything else, the teacher moved on, the dull hum of the lesson taking over the classroom. I kept my gaze locked on the whiteboard, my mind a thousand miles away.
The truth lingered at the edges of my thoughts, threatening to break through: the chaos I'd caused, the devastation I'd tried to clean up, and the lingering guilt of watching Miras suffer because of me. But none of that could slip past my lips—not here, not now.
****
"How was school, kiddo's?" Imani greeted us like a couple of fifth graders.
"Fine."
"Fine," he repeated, his voice sing-song, trailing after me as I got into the limo. "That's all I get? Fine? What, no stories about classroom drama? No tales of academic triumph? No—"
"Nope."
"It was good," Miras cut in before Imani could berate me any further. " The printer actually broke from how much homework I had to print off."
Imani stopped mid reverse, "The printer broke? Seriously? You're telling me the apocalypse is starting in the office corner now?"
Miras shrugged, keeping his expression deadpan, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed him. "What can I say? Advanced calculus and physics don't mess around."
"Yeah, sure, Miras. Blame calculus. Pretty sure you just don't know how to hit 'print' without sending the same thing ten times."
"Excuse you," Miras shot back, finally letting a grin break through. "That printer was on its last leg anyway. I'm a victim of subpar technology, thank you very much. And Cherish—" Miras stopped mid-sentence, turning to look at me again, his tone softening just slightly. "—is apparently surviving on 'fine' and silence."
"Like I said, it was fine."
The unspoken agreement hung between Miras and me like a thick fog. Neither of us said a word about Nakita or her pack of lackeys, and Imani, sharp as ever, would've picked up on any cracks in our armor if we weren't careful. Miras shot me a subtle glance, the kind that said, We're not going there, before turning back to his usual casual demeanor. He was good at that—shrugging off tension like it didn't exist.
"Oh Cherish, before I forget," Imani's attention shifted directly to me. "Your dad wants to see you in the lab."
"Now?" I asked, trying not to let my voice betray the dread creeping in.
Imani shrugged. "That's what he said. You know how he gets when he's on the verge of a breakthrough. He practically vibrated with excitement when he called."
Miras was too deep into his homework to notice the uncomfortable look on my face as I left my bag beside his and made my way over to the lab. Typical Miras—present but not intervening unless absolutely necessary. The weight of the bracelet on my wrist suddenly felt heavier, its faint metallic sheen catching the light. "I'll be back later," I muttered, avoiding Miras's gaze as I headed for the door.
My dad was exactly where I expected him to be—bent over one of the consoles, his face lit up with the kind of excitement only he could muster when he was chasing answers. "Cherish!" he called out the moment he saw me, his eyes lighting up. "You're here!"
The hug came as a shock. My dad hadn't hugged me in years–and never with this much enthusiasm.
"Wow," I chuckled nervously, taking a step or two back to balance myself. "Someone is in a good mood."
"Yes, yes, come here! You won't believe this." He waved me over eagerly, barely able to contain himself. "Dr. Amar and I have finally made progress with the cube. Real progress."
I approached the console, where a series of complicated diagrams and data points filled the screen. My dad gestured wildly, explaining something about energy signatures and synchronization patterns, but I could barely focus. The cube itself sat in a glass containment unit nearby, its surface faintly glowing with an otherworldly shimmer.
"This could be it, Cherish," he said, turning to me with a grin that was equal parts exhilaration and exhaustion. "We're so close to understanding it. To unlock its secrets."
"That's... great," I said, though my voice lacked enthusiasm. The cube always made me uneasy, especially when I felt its faint pull against the bracelet on my wrist.
"And to celebrate," he added, clapping his hands together, "we're having a family dinner tomorrow night. Just the five of us—me, you, Imani, Miras and Dr. Amar. It's been too long since we all sat down together, and with this breakthrough..." His voice trailed off, but the pride in his eyes said it all. "Hell, even bring that kid—what's his name? Dewey!"
"Oh wow–ok. Yeah I'll ask Miras to see if he's available."
My dad's hands shook from a mixture of excitement and excessive caffeine. He grabbed me by my shoulders, taking a quick glance over of me before crushing me with another hug.
"Go easy on the ribs."
Before my dad could respond, the door opened, and Dr. Amar stepped in. His presence was as unsettling as ever, his sharp gaze immediately zeroing in on me.
"Cherish," he said, his voice smooth but tinged with something I couldn't quite place. "Good to see you. How was school?"
"Dr. Amar," I replied, taking a small step back without realizing it.
He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I couldn't help but notice you've been wearing that bracelet more often lately," he said, gesturing toward my wrist. "Has it been reacting to anything unusual? Any... changes?"
I instinctively covered the bracelet with my other hand. "No," I said quickly. "It's fine."
Dr. Amar's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and he stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Are you sure? The cube's energy has been spiking lately. If you're experiencing anything—anything at all—it's important that you tell me."
"I said it's fine," I repeated, my tone firmer this time.
He hesitated, his expression tightening for just a moment before he forced another smile. "Of course," he said smoothly. "But if you notice anything... you'll let me know, won't you?"
I nodded, but the unease in my chest only grew. Dr. Amar lingered a moment longer, his eyes flicking between me and the bracelet, before finally turning his attention back to my dad.
"Let's continue, shall we?" he said, his tone light but his movements stiff.
I backed away slowly, my heart racing. Something about the way he'd looked at me—at the bracelet—felt wrong. I couldn't shake the feeling that Dr. Amar knew more about the cube than he was letting on. And worse, I had the sinking suspicion that he wasn't just interested in the cube anymore.
He was interested in me.
The rare moment of my dad was cut off—again by Dr. Amar. Before I even had the time to process it my dad was shoving me back out the door. But being on the other side off a bomb proof door did lessen my anxiety about Dr. Amar.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, texting Dewey as I made my way back over to Miras.
Hey nerd, it's Cherish. You're invited for dinner tonight. My dad is going to make some big announcement about the cube. Let me know if you can come.
The text hadn't fully been on delivered before I got the response.
Omg Omg Omg Omg Omg Omg Omg Omg Omg Omg. Omw Omw Omw Omw Omw Omw Omw Omw
"Weird," I muttered. My phone vibrated in my pocket as Dewey flooded my messages with random gifs.
Within the few minutes I had been gone, Miras had already seemed to have lost interest in his homework. His head shot up as soon as I came back into the living room.
"Hey, how'd it go?"
"Good–he's announcing some big progress he made about the cube over dinner and Dewey will be here probably within the next five minutes."
Miras raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the arm of the couch, his legs stretched out like he owned the place. "Big progress, huh? What's that mean? Another fancy graph and a lot of 'we're getting closer' talk?"
I dropped onto the chair across from him, suddenly feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on me. "Something like that," I muttered. "He and Dr. Amar seem pretty convinced they're on the verge of something. But..."
"But?" Miras prompted, his head tilting slightly. His tone was casual, but I could see the way his shoulders tensed, like he was ready for whatever I might say.
I hesitated, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of my hoodie. "Amar was acting... weird."
"Weird how?"
"More pushy than usual," I admitted, my voice low. "He kept asking about the bracelet. Like, really asking. And the way he was looking at it..." I trailed off, shivering at the memory of his intense gaze. "I don't know. It just felt off."
Miras frowned, sitting up straighter now. "That guy always feels off," he said, his tone hardening. "What'd you tell him?"
"I said it was fine," I replied, meeting his eyes. "That nothing was happening."
"And is it?"
I hesitated, my stomach twisting. I didn't want to lie to Miras—not after everything—but I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. The truth was, the bracelet had been acting up lately, faint vibrations every time I was near the cube, like it was trying to tell me something. But admitting that felt like opening a door I wasn't ready to walk through.
"It's fine," I said again, but even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice.
Miras didn't press me, but his expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "If he pushes you again, tell me," he said firmly.
"Yeah," I murmured, though the thought of Dr. Amar trying to corner me again made my skin crawl.
Without any prompting, Miras left his chair and sat next to me in mine.
Miras moved so casually that it almost caught me off guard. One second he was stretched out in his chair, and the next, he was right there beside me, squeezing into the same seat without asking if there was room—which, let's be honest, there wasn't.
The chair wasn't made for two people, and yet somehow, Miras made it work, leaning into the armrest while his shoulder pressed lightly against mine. His warmth seeped through my hoodie, grounding me in a way I didn't realize I needed.
"Comfy?" I asked, half teasing, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest.
"Not really," he deadpanned, adjusting his long legs so they didn't bump against the coffee table. "But I figured you looked like you could use some company. And, y'know, someone to steal your personal space."
I let out a small laugh, the tension in my chest easing a little. "Mission accomplished."
He tilted his head, pretending to inspect me. "Yeah, you're smiling now. My work here is done."
"Not smiling," I protested, though the corners of my mouth betrayed me.
Miras smirked, clearly satisfied with himself. He nudged my shoulder lightly with his own, his voice softening. "Seriously, though. You okay?"
I hesitated, but something about the way he looked at me—steady, unflinching—made it easier to be honest. "I don't know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... a lot."
Miras didn't say anything right away. Instead, he reached out and gently tugged at the sleeve of my hoodie, a silent invitation to keep talking.
"I mean, the cube, my dad, Amar... all of it feels like it's piling up. And the bracelet—" I stopped myself, glancing down at it. "I don't even know what it's trying to tell me anymore."
He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "You don't have to figure it all out right now, y'know. You can just... be. At least for a little while."
I looked at him, a little surprised. "You make it sound so easy."
"It's not," he admitted, his lips quirking into a small, lopsided smile. "But that's why you've got me. I'm here to distract you with bad jokes and unsolicited advice."
"Unsolicited advice, huh?"
"Yup." He stretched his arm across the back of the chair, his voice taking on a mock-serious tone. "Lesson one: When life gets overwhelming, sit in someone else's chair until they're too annoyed to think about anything else."
I laughed despite myself, leaning into his shoulder slightly. "I'll keep that in mind."
For a moment, the heaviness of the evening lifted, replaced by the simple comfort of his presence. Miras wasn't trying to fix anything or offer grand solutions—he was just there, making the world feel a little less daunting.
The sound of Dewey's voice echoing down the hall reminded me we weren't alone for long. "Miras! Cherish! Where are you hiding?"
Miras groaned dramatically. "There goes our peace."
I couldn't help but smile as I pushed him lightly. "Your fault for taking my chair."
As we made our way downstairs, I couldn't help but notice the little grin tugging at the corner of Miras's mouth. It wasn't his usual smirk—the one he used to hide behind when he was being sarcastic. No, this one was softer, like he was enjoying a private joke I wasn't in on.
"What's with the face?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He glanced at me sideways, the grin growing just a bit. "Nothing. Just thinking."
"About?"
"Oh, you know..." He shrugged, his voice deliberately casual. "How you never thanked me for saving you back there."
I blinked. "Saving me?"
"Yeah," he said, his tone teasing now.. "Saving you from Nakita and her army of intelligently stunted men."
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't stop the small smile that crept onto my face. "Oh, right. Thanks so much, Miras. You're my hero."
"Anytime," he said, putting his hands in his pockets and strolling ahead like he was the coolest guy on the planet. "Though, y'know, a proper thank-you wouldn't hurt. Maybe dinner. Or, I don't know, eternal gratitude."
I laughed, catching up to him. "Eternal gratitude? That's a bit steep."
"Is it, though?" He turned to face me, walking backward now. "Think about it: I provide top-tier emotional support, comic relief, and—" He gestured to himself dramatically. "I mean, look at me. That's a full package."
I snorted. "You're ridiculous."
"And you love it," he shot back, his grin widening.
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. He was looking at me in that way he sometimes did, like he could see right through all the walls I tried to put up.
I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. "If this is your way of fishing for compliments, it's not working."
"Who said I was fishing?" He leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping just enough to make my heart skip a beat. "Maybe I just like seeing you smile."
I felt my cheeks flush, but I refused to let him have the upper hand. "Careful, Miras. Keep this up, and I might start thinking you actually like me or something."
He paused for a split second, his grin softening into something more genuine. "Maybe I do," he said, so casually it almost sounded like a joke. Almost.
I stared at him, caught off guard, but before I could say anything, Dewey's fist echoed from the door. "Hey! Are you two going to open the door or do I have to break in?"
Miras winked at me, stepping aside to let me pass. "Saved by Dewey," he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
I shook my head, biting back a smile as I walked past him. "You're impossible."
"And yet, you keep me around," he called after me, his tone full of playful confidence.
I pulled open the door, and there stood Dewey, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. He gave us both a once-over, his expression caught somewhere between suspicion and amusement.
"Thought I was gonna have to scale the fire escape," Dewey said, stepping inside. "What were you two doing? Whispering secrets?"
"Something like that," Miras said smoothly, leaning casually against the doorframe.
I shot him a look over my shoulder, but Miras just grinned, completely unbothered. Dewey raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the energy between us.
"Right," Dewey said slowly, his tone laced with mock understanding. "Well, don't let me interrupt your important conversation."
I rolled my eyes and stepped aside to let him in. "You're already interrupting, Dewey."
"Yeah, yeah. Someone had to," he replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the nearest chair. "You two have a weird vibe. You know that, right?"
"Define 'weird,'" Miras said, crossing his arms but looking entirely too amused.
Dewey gestured vaguely between us. "This whole... thing you've got going on. All the banter, the smirking—it's suspicious."
I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "There is no 'thing,' Dewey. Can you drop it?"
"Sure, sure," Dewey said, though the sly grin on his face said otherwise. "Whatever you say, Cherish."
Miras, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself. "Don't worry, Dewey," he said, his voice light with humor. "I'll make sure to stay in my lane."
I glared at him, but he just winked again, completely unfazed.
"So what's happening with the cube?" Dewey asked as he kicked off his shoes. "Did they get it open? Is it talking? Has it given birth?"
I snorted at Dewey's ridiculousness, shaking my head as I led the way into the kitchen. "No, no, and definitely no. It's still a cube, Dewey."
Miras followed close behind, smirking. "Though, to be fair, if it did give birth, I think we'd all have bigger problems."
Dewey flopped into a chair at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers on the surface. "Hey, I'm just saying. With how much hype there's been, I'm expecting fireworks or something. If it's just 'we're close,' I'm gonna demand a refund for my time."
"Pretty sure you're not paying for anything," I said, grabbing a glass of water and setting it in front of him.
"Emotional investment," he shot back, taking a sip. "That counts."
"Uh-huh, sure."
Dad walked in, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Ah, there you all are! Perfect timing. I was just about to set the table."
"Big news tonight, huh?" Miras said, leaning casually against the counter.
Dad practically buzzed with excitement, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. "You have no idea. Dr. Amar and I are closer than ever to cracking this thing wide open. We've discovered... well, I don't want to spoil it before dinner, but let's just say things are starting to make sense."
"Define 'sense,'" Dewey muttered under his breath, earning a quiet laugh from Miras.
Dad either didn't hear or chose to ignore it as he continued. "We're finally connecting the energy patterns from the cube." His gaze flicked to me, his smile growing. "It's remarkable, really. This might be the breakthrough we've been waiting for."
"That's... great, Dad."
Dr. Amar entered the room a moment later, his usual air of intensity dialed up to eleven. His sharp eyes swept over the room, landing briefly on me before moving on. "We should eat quickly," he said, his tone clipped. "The data from today needs immediate review."
Dad waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, Amar, relax! We've earned this. Let's celebrate a little, huh?"
Amar didn't look convinced, but he nodded stiffly, taking a seat at the table. I noticed the way his gaze lingered on my bracelet, and I instinctively pulled my sleeve down to cover it.
Miras, ever perceptive, stepped closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine in a quiet show of support. He leaned in, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "You good?"
I nodded quickly, though my stomach churned. "Yeah. Just... weird vibes."
"Tell me about it," he muttered, throwing a wary glance at Amar.
Although my dad wasn't overly supportive of my underage drinking habits, he pulled out several bottles of champaign, filling up a glass for everyone.
"Champagne?" Dewey raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Isn't this a little... fancy for a science breakthrough?"
Dad laughed as he popped the cork on another bottle, the sound echoing through the kitchen. "It's not every day you get this close to solving a universal mystery. Besides," he added with a sly smile, "it's good to celebrate the wins, no matter how small."
"Even if some of us are underage?" I pointed out, folding my arms with a smirk.
Dad's grin didn't waver as he poured the bubbly liquid into the glasses. "A sip won't hurt anyone. Consider it a toast to progress."
"Or a toast to bad parenting," I joked, though the teasing note in my voice softened the jab.
Miras leaned over, nudging me with his elbow. "I don't think I've ever seen your dad look this hyped. This must be big."
"Alright, alright," Dad interrupted, raising his glass. "Let's focus, everyone. A toast—to science, to persistence, and to the team that made this possible."
"I can't believe you guys started without me!" Imani huffed as he walked into the room, making a point to toss his jacket onto the counter top. "Even after all I do for you people."
My dad snorted, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated shrug. "Oh, please. All you do for us? Like what? Provide endless sass?"
Imani rolled his eyes, walking over to grab a glass from the cabinet. "You wouldn't survive a day without my 'sass,' Maurice. Admit it, I keep this group functional."
"Functional?" Miras chimed in, smirking. "Pretty sure you're the chaos generator around here."
"Chaos generator?" Imani repeated, feigning offense. "Excuse you, I am the glue that holds this mess together." He turned to me, waving a hand dramatically. "Cherish, back me up."
I shook my head, laughing as I sipped from my glass. "I don't know, Imani. You did just abandon us to fend for ourselves tonight."
"I was working!" Imani declared, placing a hand over his heart like I'd just accused him of treason. "Unlike some people, I have a life outside of cube talk."
"Oh, come on," Dad cut in with a good-natured chuckle. "Sit down, Imani. We haven't even gotten to the best part yet."
Imani narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "The best part? Did you finally crack the cube open? Is there a tiny alien in there? Or gold? Please tell me it's gold."
"Gold?" Dewey repeated, laughing. "Wait, is this a treasure hunt?"
"It might as well be," Imani shot back, sliding into the seat next to me. "You've got Dr. Amar over here looking like he's plotting a heist, Dad hyped up like it's Christmas morning, and Cherish..." His gaze flicked to me, curious. "You look like you're one awkward question away from losing it."
"I'm—I'm..."
"Relax kid," Imani said as he clapped me on the back. "I'm bugging you." Imani leaned over, whispering just loud enough for me to hear. "So, are we celebrating science or just your dad's optimism?"
"Bit of both," I whispered back, trying to match his light tone.
****
"The cube is a doorway," Dr. Amar said casually as he cut into his lamb. "A doorway to what I believe could be an infinite number of parallel universes."
Miras froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Parallel universes?" he repeated, his tone a mix of disbelief and alarm. "You're saying that thing doesn't just lead to one other place—it could lead to... infinite versions of reality?"
Dr. Amar nodded, seemingly unfazed by the bombshell he'd just dropped. "Precisely. The patterns etched into the cube are more than decorative—they're coordinates. I've been studying them for days, and based on the energy signatures we've detected, I believe the cube is a kind of multidimensional key. A single turn could open a pathway to a version of reality that's completely alien to us."
Imani whistled low, leaning back in his chair. "So, what, we're talking about alternate Earths? Like, there's a version of me out there who's a billionaire with great hair?"
"There's no guarantee the universes are anything like ours," Dr. Amar replied, his tone suddenly serious. "Some could be barren, lifeless voids. Others could be thriving civilizations completely unrecognizable to us. The possibilities are limitless."
"That's the problem," Miras interjected, his brow furrowed. "Limitless possibilities mean limitless risks. What if opening that doorway lets something through? Something we can't handle?"
"Or what if we step through and there's no way back?" I added softly, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of the napkin. "It's one thing to explore the unknown, but it's another to throw ourselves into... whatever this is."
My dad, ever the optimist, leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "But think of the potential! Infinite universes mean infinite opportunities—new resources, new technologies, new ways of understanding existence itself. This could be the greatest discovery in the history of humankind!"
Miras shot him a skeptical look. "Or the greatest mistake."
Dr. Amar dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, his expression thoughtful. "I understand the concern, truly. But the cube isn't active yet. We've only begun to scratch the surface of its capabilities. How we open the doorway still hasn't been discovered yet."
The table fell silent, the weight of his words settling over them like a heavy fog. Dewey broke the tension, his voice tinged with dry humor. "I don't know about you all, but I've seen enough sci-fi movies to know this never ends well."
Imani snorted, but even his laugh felt uneasy. "Right? This is how you get evil alternate versions of yourself trying to take over your life."
"Or worse," Miras said quietly, his gaze fixed on the cube sitting ominously on the counter across the room. "What if the universe on the other side is looking for us just as much as we're looking for it?"
*****
My room smelled faintly of lavender from the sachets tucked into the drawers. Miras was fiddling with the collar of his t-shirt, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as if the weight of whatever he wanted to say was pressing down on him. I sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, running a comb through my hair, trying to pretend I wasn't stealing glances at him in the mirror.
"You're awfully quiet," I said, half-teasing, trying to break the tension.
He looked up, his dark eyes locking onto mine in the reflection. For a second, he opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head. "Yeah. Just... thinking."
I set the comb down and turned to face him fully, pulling my knees up to my chest. "About the cube? Or my dad's latest 'world-changing discovery' speech?"
He gave a low chuckle, the kind that usually came with a sarcastic comment, but this time it was softer, almost distracted. "Your dad's a trip, but no. It's... not about him. Or the cube."
That caught me off guard. Miras wasn't the type to hesitate or fumble his words. He was confident, maybe even cocky sometimes, but never this... uncertain. I studied him for a moment, my curiosity growing. "Okay. So what is it about?"
He exhaled slowly, like he was steadying himself. Then he moved, sitting down on the chair by the window. His knee bounced nervously, his hands clasped together as if he were holding something invisible.
"It's about you," he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.
My chest tightened, my heartbeat quickening. "Me?" I repeated, though I already knew where this was going. Or at least, I thought I did.
"Yeah, you." He let out a dry laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is harder than I thought it'd be. Look, Cherish... I've been wanting to say something for a while now, but every time I get close, I either chicken out or—"
"My dad interrupts?" I offered with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.
He grinned at that, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. "Yeah, something like that." But then his expression grew serious again, and his hands tightened into fists on his knees. "But I can't keep putting it off. Not anymore."
My breath hitched as I waited, the air between us thick with something unspoken.
"I like you, Cherish," he said, finally looking up at me. His voice was steady now, but his hands still fidgeted. "Not as a friend. Not as someone I just happen to spend a lot of time with. I like you. A lot."
The words hung in the air, heavy and fragile all at once. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I know this might be the worst possible time, with everything going on—the cube, your dad's project, all of it. But I needed you to know. Even if you don't feel the same way, I... I couldn't keep it to myself anymore."
I stared at him, my heart racing so fast I thought he might hear it. For a moment, all I could do was sit there, stunned by the raw honesty in his voice, the vulnerability in his usually sharp eyes. Then, finally, I found my voice.
"Miras," I said softly, unfolding my legs and standing up. His head snapped up, his expression shifting to one of cautious hope. I crossed the room and stopped in front of him, my hands hesitating for just a second before I reached out and rested them on his.
"You're an idiot if you think I don't feel the same way," I said, a shaky laugh escaping me.
His brows shot up, and the tension in his shoulders melted instantly. "Wait, what?"
I smiled, my cheeks flushing. "I like you too, Miras. I think I've liked you for a while. I was just waiting for you to figure it out."
His grin was slow, spreading across his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. "You're serious?"
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop smiling. "Yes, I'm serious. Do you know how many times I've had to watch you almost say something and then back out? It was torture."
He laughed, a sound so genuine and warm that it made my heart ache. "Well, guess I've been torturing myself too."
We stood there, just grinning at each other like a couple of idiots, the weight of the moment giving way to something lighter. For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between us was gone, replaced by something warm and undeniable.
"Cherie?"
"Yeah?"
"Will you be my girlfriend?"
My heart skipped a beat. The words hung in the air between us, fragile but electrifying. Miras was looking at me with an expression I'd never seen before—hopeful, nervous, but steady. It was like he'd finally laid everything on the table, no walls, no jokes to deflect with. Just him.I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out at first. My brain was scrambling to catch up, and for some reason, all I could hear was the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.
His fingers brushed against mine, a light, tentative touch that anchored me in the moment. "I mean it, Cherish," he said softly. "I don't want to just keep dancing around this... around us. I want to make it real. If you want that too."
A small laugh bubbled out of me, half from nerves, half from disbelief. "You're really just going for it, huh?"
His lips quirked into a faint grin, but his eyes stayed serious. "Yeah. I guess I am. I'm done waiting for the right moment, because if I keep waiting, I'll probably miss it."
I looked down at our hands, his fingers now brushing lightly against mine, and something inside me eased. There was no grand declaration, no perfect timing or cinematic backdrop. Just Miras, honest and open, asking me a question I didn't even realize I'd been waiting to hear.
"Yes," I said, finally meeting his gaze. "I'll be your girlfriend."
The relief that washed over his face was immediate and almost comical, his shoulders dropping as if he'd just put down the heaviest weight in the world. "Yeah?" he asked, like he needed to hear it again to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
"Yes," I repeated, grinning now. "I think I've been waiting for you to ask."
He let out a soft laugh, his grin widening. "Well, I guess I've been an idiot for taking this long."
"Biggest idiot I've ever met," I teased, the warmth in my chest growing as his laugh filled the room.
He took my hand then, his grip firm but gentle, like he was holding something precious. "I'll make it up to you," he said, his voice low and filled with so much earnestness it made my cheeks flush. "Promise."
"You'd better," I replied, though the smile on my face betrayed any attempt at being stern.
Miras gave my hand a slight squeeze, his grin softening into something that made my heart do a little flip. And in that moment, with the quiet hum of the house around us and the faint smell of lavender in the air, everything felt right. Like the world beyond the two of us didn't matter—not the cube, not the risks, not even the endless unknown. Just this. Just us.