Luelle
Luelle ran her fingertips along the edge of the desk, her gaze sweeping across the dimly lit apartment she shared with the woman who pretended to be a mother. This carefully woven lie was essential, intricately threaded through every facet of their lives. To the outside world, they appeared to be just another unremarkable family in a quiet neighbourhood.
Yet, within the confines of these walls, a flicker of truth resided beneath the layers of deception.
The space was small but familiar, structured yet warm, and it had evolved into a place she wouldn't mind calling home. The no-frills furniture, muted colors, and the faint aroma of tea in the air transformed it into something more than just a facade.
And then there was her mother — or rather, the woman trained to be her mother.
Their bond was unconventional, not forged through childhood memories or shared blood. But it was steadfast. Her mother was methodical and vigilant, always on guard — a presence Luelle relied on more than she cared to admit. Despite the weight of secrecy that loomed over them, there was an unspoken understanding, a recognition of the roles they were playing.
They knew each other well.
They understood how to inhabit the same space without shattering the illusion.
They knew when to be still and when to break the silence.
Late at night, with her mind clouded by worries for Ethan and the looming threat of their enemy, Luelle often found solace in the comforting routines they had established. The tea, the incense, the soft conversations exchanged — it wasn't normal, but it was enough.
Propped against the desk by the window, she gazed out at the still street below. Shadows pooled under the streetlamps, and an occasional car passed by without urgency. Days had blurred together since the assassination attempt, each moment slipping away without new leads, their adversary making no mistakes.
Nothing.
And that was the problem.
She tightened her grip on her phone, frustration creeping into her otherwise even tone. "I don't see — I can't find anything," she spoke, waiting for a response from her father on the other end. "No new leads, no new threats. It's like they vanished."
A pause followed, then her father exhaled slowly. "That's rarely the case."
She knew that. The mastermind behind the attack hadn't simply disappeared. They were regrouping, recalibrating, setting the stage for something larger. What disturbed Luelle was the silence that preceded the next storm.
"They're planning something bigger," she said, her gaze fixed on the street, searching for movement. "I need more time."
Her father didn't respond immediately. "Stay alert."
It was both a command and a warning.
"I will," she replied, hanging up and placing the phone beside her, her fingers brushing its cool surface.
The apartment pulsed with silence. Her mother was in the kitchen, rinsing a teacup, the sound soft and steady. The banality of it all clashed with the chaos swirling in Luelle's mind, and for a fleeting moment, she wished she could cling to that normalcy a little longer.
She glanced back at the window, scanning the street once more. The void stretched before her, nearly taunting in its silence. She knew better than to be lured by it.
Then a voice broke through her reverie.
"Luelle."
Her mother's tone was steady but edged with caution. "There's someone at the door."
Luelle stiffened, her senses sharpening. She moved swiftly across the room, muscles coiled and alert for the unexpected.
When her mother stepped aside at the door, her expression unreadable, Luelle blinked in surprise to see Devon standing in the hallway. He shifted from foot to foot, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, his head bowed in a way that suggested more humility than was typical for him, as if knocking on the door had required more courage than he anticipated.
"Hey, Luelle," he said, his voice light but uncertain, oddly timid for someone like him. "I... uh, I was nearby and thought I'd come say hi."
Luelle stared for a moment, calculations running through her mind. Devon didn't seem like the type to make a casual visit. He was friendly enough, but the discomfort in the air added an edge she couldn't quite place.
She hesitated.
The thought of inviting him in crossed her mind, but she couldn't discern if it was the right thing to do. This was her space — small, quiet, built on carefully constructed routines. It felt strange to have someone intrude upon it.
Before she could say anything, her mother stepped in.
Her presence filled the room, as it always did, her movements exuding an ease that drew attention. She offered a practiced smile and gestured toward Devon.
"Why don't you come in?" her mother said, her tone warm and disarming. "It's a pleasure to meet one of Luelle's friends."
Devon's face broke into a small smile, his shoulders relaxing as he nodded. "Uh, sure. Thanks."
Her mother ushered him inside and closed the door behind him. "I'm Mrs. Stone," she said, extending her hand for a quick shake. "We don't get many visitors here, but you're very welcome. Would you like something to drink? Perhaps a soda or some iced tea?"
"Cool drink will be fine, thanks," Devon replied, smiling nervously as he followed her into the living room.
Luelle remained silent, observing the exchange with a mix of mild discomfort and curiosity. Her mother had a knack for diffusing awkward moments, maintaining normalcy no matter how bizarre the circumstances.
After Mrs. Stone served him his drink, Devon sank into one of the armchairs and glanced around the room. Initially reluctant, Luelle eventually walks towards the sofa and sat, aware that the awkward pause couldn't last forever.
Devon smiled, his familiar friendliness beginning to surface. "Thanks. Nice place you've got here. It's... cozy."
Luelle nodded, unsure how to respond to the compliment.
For a while, they chatted about school — homework, group projects, and the occasional light-hearted jab at Rowan's antics and Marcus's knack for getting out of trouble with teachers. Having Devon in this intimate setting felt almost surreal, as if he were more vulnerable somehow.
Still, as their conversation flowed, Luelle found herself easing into the moment. Her mother's presence lingered like an unspoken reassurance that everything was under control.
Devon leaned back in the armchair, taking another sip. "I guess I just wanted to see how you're doing, you know? You've seemed... quiet lately. Well, more than usual. I thought it wouldn't hurt to say hello."
Luelle blinked, surprised by his observation.
Quiet? She supposed he was right.
But beneath that quiet lay turmoil he couldn't even begin to fathom.
Luelle offered a small smile, lightly tracing her fingers along the rim of her drink. "It's nothing really. I've just been thinking about the upcoming exams. They're approaching so quickly — and the end of the year is nearly here. It's hard to believe it's happening."
Devon nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the conversation flowed between them. "Yeah, I get that. It feels like this year has flown by. And those exams… it's like every teacher is piling on the pressure, squeezing every last drop of energy out of us before we're set free."
Luelle let out a soft, sincere laugh. "It's overwhelming. But it's not just about the exams. It's everything that follows. Once school is over, it's going to be a whole new chapter."
Devon turned to her, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
She shrugged, gazing off into the distance for a moment. "Rowan and Ethan—they'll be gone. Off to university. It's strange to think I won't see them at school anymore. They've always just been there, you know?"
Devon leaned back, deep in thought, furrowing his brow. "Yeah, it is weird. Rowan's going to become this big university guy, probably still causing chaos wherever he goes. And Ethan…" He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I guess he has his entire future mapped out. You know, the responsible one. But it's still hard to picture him not being here."
Luelle nodded slowly. "It's going to be different without them. It feels like they've been such a part of the school's rhythm, even amidst all the chaos. Losing that... I don't know. It feels like something significant is changing."
Devon met her gaze with understanding. "You're not wrong. Rowan brings the fun, and Ethan's the one who keeps it real. The group is going to lose something important without them."
Luelle tucked her hair behind her ear, her thoughts drifting to Ethan for a fleeting moment. "Grounded" was an interesting word to describe him. He was, even if it wasn't always apparent. Still, the thought of the void he would leave sent a pang through her that she wasn't ready to confront just yet.
Devon leaned in, lowering his voice. "What about you? What do you have planned after all this? Any big dreams?"
Luelle tightened her grip on her drink, a hint of tension creeping in. "I suppose I haven't thought much about it yet. Right now, my focus is just on getting through the exams and finishing the year strong."
Devon nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. "Well, you'll figure it out. You always do. You have a knack for staying ahead when the rest of us are just trying to keep up."
She smiled weakly, unsure whether his words were comforting or overwhelming. Devon had always had a gift for lifting spirits, for putting things into perspective. But for Luelle, simplicity felt like a luxury she couldn't afford.
Her mother's silent presence lingered nearby, offering quiet reassurance, and Luelle felt grateful for the stability her mother always seemed to embody in her life, even when the world felt chaotic.
For now, she allowed the conversation to drift back to lighter topics — school gossip, Rowan's dramatic antics, and the series of end-of-year events on the horizon. Yet, as Devon laughed and spoke comfortably, Luelle couldn't shake the heaviness in her mind.
The year was ending. Rowan and Ethan would be moving on. And the void they would leave behind wouldn't just be strange — it could mark the beginning of something she wasn't prepared to face.
As their conversation began to wind down, Devon shifted in his seat, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. He took a sip of his drink, looking down at the glass before meeting Luelle's gaze again.
"So," he started, his tone light, as if he were trying to keep it casual, "are you going to the year-end ball?"
Luelle hesitated, caught off guard by the question. It wasn't something she had spent much time contemplating — too many other thoughts occupied her mind. The ball, with its glimmering dresses and booming music, felt like another world entirely, far removed from the shadows she was trying to navigate.
"I don't know," she replied, her tone careful. "I haven't really considered it."
Devon smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting in that relaxed, disarming way of his. "Well, you should go. It's the last hurrah before, you know, the group change. You might as well treasure it while it lasts."
His words lingered in her mind, and she nodded slowly. He wasn't wrong — this was their last event together as a group, the final time they'd all be under one roof before life inevitably pulled them in different directions.
"Yeah, maybe," she said quietly, her tone noncommittal.
Devon leaned forward slightly, placing his glass on the table. "I was thinking… if you're going, we could go together. You know, as my date."
Luelle caught her breath, the suggestion hanging between them. She hadn't expected that — not from him. Devon was friendly and affable, always ready with a joke or a story, but this felt different.
"Oh," she said, unsure of how to respond. "That's... I mean..."
She trailed off, looking toward the kitchen where her mother was busy with preparing dinner, her back turned but her presence unwavering.
Devon let out a nervous laugh, the awkwardness settling back in, and he leaned back in his chair. "No pressure or anything. Just thought I'd ask. The worst you can say is no, right?"
Luelle offered a small smile, her thoughts swirling. "I'll think about it," she replied finally, her voice steady yet sincere.
"Yeah," Devon said with a slight smile. "Fair enough. Just let me know. No rush."
After that, their conversation returned to safer, lighter topics. But even as she spoke, Luelle couldn't shake the feeling that his question lingered in her mind like an afterthought, twisting with everything else already there.
After a little more light banter, Devon looked down at his drink, absentmindedly swirling it before placing it back on the table. "I guess I'd better head out," he said, his tone casual.
Luelle straightened a little and nodded. "Thanks for stopping by."
Devon rose from the armchair, slipping his hands back into his jacket pockets. "It was good to catch up. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to drop by, but I'm glad I did."
A faint smile tugged at her lips. "It was nice to see you."
He smiled, a bit of his usual charm breaking through his earlier shyness. "You take care, okay? And let me know how the ball goes. Don't keep me waiting too long."
Luelle chuckled softly and shook her head. "I'll let you know."
As her mother accompanied them to the door, she added a cheerful farewell. "It was nice to meet you, Devon. You're welcome here anytime."
Devon flashed a brief smile, his easy demeanour returning. "Thanks, Mrs. Stone. Take care."
He glanced back at Luelle one last time, the smile lingering on his face. "See you at school."
He walked out into the hallway, and the momentary disruption of silence faded, leaving the apartment enveloped in quiet once again.
Luelle gently shut the door, already feeling her mind slipping back to the weight of her responsibilities. Devon's visit had briefly offered the illusion of normalcy, but the spectres of her obligations were not so easily ignored.