Chapter 15
Elowyn sat on the edge of her bed with her bag open in her lap, afternoon light slanting through the window and catching on the zipper teeth as she checked everything for the third time.
Phone.
Charged.
Earbuds.
Untangled and rolled neatly.
Snack.
A small pouch of fruit snacks.
She paused, then added a second one, just in case.
Her fingers moved methodically, a practiced rhythm perfected over years of learning what it felt like to be unprepared. She shifted the items so nothing pressed awkwardly against anything else.
The girl reached for her book next. The one she’d been halfway through for days now, a well-loved paperback with a soft spine and crisp, unmarked pages that smelled faintly like dust and ink.
Sliding it into the side pocket, she hesitated, then tucked her handheld console beside it.
The weight of it settled the bag more evenly against her thigh.
Better.
Elowyn zipped the bag closed, then immediately unzipped it again, peering inside like something might have changed.
Nothing had.
Still, she adjusted the placement of the earbuds, shifted the book a fraction of an inch, and smoothed the lining with her palm until it lay flat.
Once she was finished, her gaze drifted, unfocused, to the far wall.
Not her room. Not the familiar clutter of collectibles and shelves.
The bookshelf, her mind drifted.
The bottom section.
The books she’d left on the floor.
They weren’t scattered. She knew that. She’d stacked them neatly before she left. Squared edges. Aligned spines. But they weren’t finished. They weren’t in place. They weren’t part of the gradient yet.
A pale green hardcover, waiting.
Elowyn swallowed.
Her foot bounced once against the carpet before she stilled it with the heel of her other shoe.
It wasn’t about going back.
It was about completion.
She stood, slipped the bag over her shoulder, then paused by the door. Her hand hovered over the knob while her mind ran through the logic one more time, neat and orderly.
She had been invited to finish it.
She hadn’t left a mess.
She wouldn’t be in the way.
And unfinished things had a way of sitting too loud in her head.
Elowyn exhaled softly.
“Okay,” she murmured to no one, more a settling than a decision.
Then she opened the door and stepped out, the image of those waiting books following her all the way down the hall.
?
The Uber pulled away almost as soon as Elowyn shut the door, the city sound rushing back in to fill the space it left behind.
Standing on the sidewalk for a moment, she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, grounding herself in the familiar weight. Glass and steel rose above her, the building calm and immovable, as if it had been waiting exactly where it always had.
Inside, the lobby greeted her with cool air and polished floors. Elowyn kept her head down, following the path she already knew. Left of the desk. Past the art wall. Elevators at the back.
She pressed the button for Seraphina’s floor without hesitating.
That surprised her a little.
The ride up was quiet. No music this time. Elowyn liked feeling the hum of motion beneath her feet, counting the floors by the soft chime instead.
When the doors opened, she stepped out smoothly, her body remembering what her mind didn’t need to question.
The hallway felt familiar now.
She turned when she was supposed to turn. Passed the same abstract sculpture, the one that looked like it was mid-thought. The lighting shifted just slightly near the corner, warmer there. She remembered that too.
Seraphina had walked beside her two days ago, pointing things out in that calm, steady way. Not rushing or hovering. Just guiding.
Elowyn followed the memory like a map until she eventually came to a stop at the office door.
The bookshelf waited somewhere on the other side of it. She could almost see it. The incomplete section. The pale green hardcover still out of place.
Elowyn lifted her hand.
Then froze.
Her fingers curled, then uncurled.
Knocking felt wrong. Too loud. Too final. Like an interruption. But standing here without doing anything felt worse, like she was doing something incorrectly and didn’t know the rule she’d broken.
Shifting her weight, she felt her heart tapping a little faster now.
Once?
Twice?
What if she knocked too softly and it didn’t count?
Her hand hovered near the door, then dropped back to her side.
Elowyn stared at the smooth wood grain, counting the lines in it. She inhaled slowly, then let it out through her nose, careful not to sigh.
Maybe she should have texted.
But she didn’t have Seraphina’s number. Of course she didn’t.
Her shoulders drew in slightly, like she was bracing against being seen doing something wrong.
Elowyn raised her hand again, fingers poised, uncertain.
Still deciding.
Still standing there.
Still not knocking.
Before she could decide what to do—
The door opened.
Elowyn flinched.
Not dramatically. Just a sharp inhale and a small step back, instinctive, like she’d been caught standing somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.
Seraphina Monroe stepped out mid-stride, clearly in motion, attention angled down the hallway rather than forward. One hand held a slim tablet, the other adjusting a few folders that sat on top of the device.
Then her gaze landed on Elowyn, causing her to pause for a fraction of a second.
“Oh,” Seraphina said softly.
Her gaze settled, warm and immediate. A smile followed, easy and genuine, as if Elowyn’s presence made sense the moment it registered.
“Elowyn.”
The door opened a little wider as Seraphina shifted her grip, giving Elowyn space without needing to say so.
Up close, Elowyn noticed the difference right away.
The heels were the same. Tall, black, pointy and shiny, clicking faintly against the floor.
But today Seraphina wore a dress, dark and fluid, tailored in a way that emphasized her figure without effort.
The fabric moved when she did, catching light subtly at the waist, the sleeves cut just enough to reveal her forearms as she adjusted the tablet against her side.
She looked… softer.
And somehow more formidable for it.
Elowyn’s eyes dropped quickly, heat creeping into her cheeks.
“I—” she started, then stopped, words tangling. “I was just—”
Seraphina’s smile widened.
“I was headed to check on Floor Six,” she said easily, as if explaining her own interruption rather than questioning Elowyn’s. “You startled me more than I startled you, I think.”
That earned the smallest, embarrassed nod from Elowyn.
“I didn’t know if I should knock,” Elowyn admitted quietly.
Seraphina tilted her head, considering her with that same attentive calm.
“Well,” she said gently, stepping back and holding the door open fully now, “I’m glad you didn’t leave.”
The words weren’t weighted. Not dramatic. But they settled anyway.
Elowyn hesitated only a moment before stepping inside.
Seraphina followed after her, the door closing softly behind them.
The moment Elowyn stepped fully into the office, her attention slipped free of everything else.
The door.
The hallway.
Even Seraphina.
Her gaze locked onto the bookshelf.
It was the first thing she saw. The last thing she’d left unfinished. The colors still sat in her mind exactly as she’d abandoned them. That pale green hardcover. The slight imbalance. The way the gradient broke where it shouldn’t.
She didn’t move right away.
She just… stared.
Seraphina watched the shift with quiet amusement. The way Elowyn’s shoulders squared almost imperceptibly. The way her fingers curled once, resisting the urge.
A soft laugh slipped out of her before she could stop it.
Elowyn didn’t react.
Didn’t look at her.
Didn’t ask permission.
Seraphina leaned lightly against the door, her smile deepening.
“Go ahead, sweetheart,” she said warmly.
That did it.
Elowyn moved.
She crossed the room without a word, her bag slipping from her shoulder and landing neatly by the wall.
She knelt on the rug with familiar care, already gathering the books from where she’d left them. The world narrowed instantly, her focus sharpening into something precise and serene.
Seraphina let out another quiet laugh, shaking her head slightly.
Not a single acknowledgment.
No glance back. No flustered apology.
Just purpose.
“I’m going to check on Floor Six,” Seraphina said after a moment, her voice calm and unhurried. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
Elowyn nodded faintly, already adjusting a stack, eyes flicking between spines as she recalibrated the sequence.
“You’re welcome to stay,” Seraphina added, already reaching for the door handle.
Another small nod.
Seraphina paused at the door, watching her for one more heartbeat. Elowyn sat on the floor, surrounded by color and order, her hands moving with quiet confidence now that she’d been allowed to begin.
She smiled to herself, then slipped out, the door closing gently behind her.
And Elowyn didn’t even notice she was gone.
?
Time thinned out while Elowyn worked.
Minutes stopped behaving like minutes. They stretched, folded in on themselves, then drifted away entirely. The city outside the windows faded into a distant hum, and even that eventually softened until it barely registered.
There was only the shelf.
She worked from the break in the gradient outward, correcting the imbalance she’d left behind. She shifted books by millimeters, occasionally pulling one free and setting it aside, her head tilted as she reassessed the whole.
Her snacks remained untouched in her bag. Her phone stayed silent. One earbud dangled loose from her pocket, forgotten.
At some point, Elowyn sat back on her heels, studying the shelf with narrowed focus, then leaned forward again, dissatisfied. One book came out. Then two. The order changed subtly, but decisively.
Better.
She didn’t notice the light shifting through the windows or the faint change in the building’s rhythm as people moved between meetings and floors.
She only noticed when the office door opened.
The sound was soft but distinct enough to cut through her concentration.
Elowyn startled slightly, her shoulders tensing as she turned.
Seraphina stepped inside, her heels quieter than before as she crossed the threshold. She paused just inside the doorway, taking in the scene.
Elowyn on the floor.
Books in careful stacks around her.
The shelf nearly finished.
Her gaze flicked briefly to the clock.
“I didn’t think it would have taken so long,” Seraphina said lightly.
Elowyn blinked, disoriented, then glanced toward the window as if checking for clues time had apparently stolen from her.
"I... didn’t notice,” she said softly.
Seraphina smiled, something warm settling into her expression as she closed the door behind her.
“I can tell,” she replied.
Her eyes returned to the shelf, then back to Elowyn.
“You’re nearly finished,” she added, walking toward the bookshelf, stopping a small distance away from Elowyn.
As she adjusted another book, Elowyn’s hands started trembling just a fraction more than usual. She kept her gaze fixed on the spines, counting colors in her head, trying to force her pulse back to normal.
Seraphina leaned slightly closer to inspect the alignment, her presence deliberate, measured. She didn’t touch Elowyn, didn’t say a word. Just the weight of her proximity, the subtle sway of her stance, the way her eyes lingered on the work rather than the worker, all of it an unspoken… command.
Elowyn’s heart skipped again as she counted the colors once more, lining up a stack with extra care, willing herself to look calm.
Seraphina’s lips curved into a quiet, almost imperceptible smile as she observed the way Elowyn deferred instinctively to her presence. The shaky movements. Her breath hitching. It was subtle.
“Steady hands,” Seraphina murmured, her voice low, teasing just slightly as she straightened a row that Elowyn had just finished. The words weren’t a command. Not exactly. But the cadence carried authority.
Elowyn jumped slightly, blinking. “Oh—uh... sorry,” she whispered, gripping a book tighter than necessary.
Seraphina chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Sweetheart,” she said, leaning back just a little, giving Elowyn a fraction more space, “you’re doing fine. Take your time.”
Elowyn nodded, her pulse still stubbornly racing.
She worked. She counted. She lined the spines again. Anything to convince herself that she was perfectly fine.
And from the corner of her eye, she caught Seraphina still there. Not critical or impatient. Just watching.
And that, she thought, was terrifying.
“Take your time,” Seraphina murmured again, crouching slightly to check the lower shelves. “No rush. There’s no one watching, just this… and you.”
Elowyn’s stomach fluttered. “Okay,” she whispered. Her palms were a little sweaty now, her chest a little tighter.
Fear, obviously.
Heart skipping beats, tight chest, sweaty—unsteady hands.
This is clearly the result of being in a state of pure, unadulterated fear, the girl thought to herself.
Seraphina smiled softly, stepping back, giving her space.
“That’s better,” Seraphina said softly, her voice calm, almost casual, as if she’d simply been admiring the bookshelf from across the room.
?
Sliding the last book into place, Elowyn took a step back to admire her work.
It was glorious.
The way the colors flowed seamlessly from one to the next. It almost brought tears to her eyes.
She glanced toward Seraphina.
Her head rested on her open palm, her gaze fixed on the computer screen, posture relaxed in a way that felt entirely too composed.
Scary woman, Elowyn told herself.
Seraphina, who had long since mastered the art of multitasking, pretended not to notice the girls' stare.
Or rather, the side-eye.
She hid her smile behind her hand and glanced up just in time to catch Elowyn snapping her gaze away.
A soft chuckle slipped from her before she could stop it. She was just about to return her attention to the screen when, suddenly—
“I’m done.”
The words burst out of Elowyn, quick and breathless, like she’d been holding them in for far too long.
“Are you now?” Seraphina asked, glancing up again.
“Yup,” Elowyn whispered.
“It looks much better,” Seraphina commented, sauntering over to the girl.
“Yup,” Elowyn whispered again, tensing as the woman now stood at her side.
Seraphina lingered there for a moment, her gaze sweeping over the shelf before drifting toward the windows. The city beyond them had shifted while they worked. The glass reflected darkness now, the lights outside scattered and distant.
“It’s gotten quite late,” Seraphina said calmly.
Elowyn blinked and followed her line of sight. She hadn’t noticed the change. The sky was fully dark now, the sun long gone, the office lights casting soft reflections across the glass.
“Oh,” she murmured, a little startled.
Seraphina hummed quietly, a thoughtful sound. “Were you planning on driving home?”
Elowyn shook her head immediately. “No. I—I take an Uber.”
That earned her Seraphina’s full attention.
“It’s rather late for that, isn’t it?” She said after a beat, her tone still smooth, still measured, but firmer now.
Elowyn’s shoulders drew in. “It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I do it all the time.”
“I’m sure you do,” Seraphina replied. Then, more gently, “Still. Let me take you home.”
The offer wasn’t phrased like a question.
Elowyn hesitated, fingers curling lightly at her side. “You don’t have to.”
“I know,” Seraphina said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “But I’m going to, if you’ll allow me.”
Elowyn nodded, small and careful.
Before either of them moved, Elowyn reached into her bag.
She didn’t say anything. She just pulled out a small pouch of fruit snacks and extended it toward Seraphina, her arm outstretched, her hand steady despite the nerves humming through her—an unspoken offering, a quiet token of thanks for the ride.
Seraphina looked down at it, surprised.
“That’s all right,” she said softly. “You can have it.”
Elowyn didn’t pull her hand back. “I have two.”
That made Seraphina quietly laugh.
“Well,” she conceded, taking the pouch from her fingers, “in that case.”
Elowyn relaxed a fraction as Seraphina accepted it, like the exchange itself had settled something unspoken between them.
“Have you eaten?” Seraphina asked casually, tearing open the top.
Elowyn shook her head again. “I have food at home.”
Seraphina lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
Elowyn nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m going to pick something up for myself,” Seraphina said. “You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”
Elowyn glanced toward the window once more, then back at Seraphina. “Okay,” she whispered.
Seraphina smiled, the kind that felt warm rather than sharp.
“I was hoping you'd say that,” she said, already reaching for her coat.
?
Outside, the city had softened into night.
The air was cooler than Elowyn expected, brushing against her arms as she stepped out of the building beside Seraphina. Lights from the street reflected off the glass behind them, the company’s name glowing faintly overhead like it belonged to another world entirely.
Seraphina walked with unhurried confidence, heels clicking softly against the pavement as she led them toward the private parking area.
And then Elowyn saw the car, slowing her steps without meaning to.
It was sleek and impossibly polished, the kind of vehicle she’d only ever seen in pictures. Dark, understated, expensive in a way that didn’t need to announce itself.
Oh.
So… that rich.
Seraphina noticed the hesitation and glanced back, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips.
“Come on,” she said gently, opening the passenger door for Elowyn.
Elowyn flushed immediately.
“Th-thank you,” she murmured, ducking inside.
The interior was just as intimidating. Leather seats. Soft lighting. Everything clean and deliberate. Elowyn sat stiffly, hands folded in her lap, afraid to touch anything unnecessarily.
Seraphina closed the door and circled around to the driver’s side. Once inside, she glanced over.
“Seatbelt,” she reminded her, voice calm and smooth.
Elowyn startled slightly, then hurried to fasten it. “Sorry.”
Seraphina smiled faintly as she started the car. “No need to apologize.”
They pulled out onto the street, the city sliding past them in a blur of lights.
Elowyn’s gaze drifted, unintentional at first, then very much not, toward Seraphina’s hands on the steering wheel.
They were long and elegant. Fingers flexing subtly as she adjusted her grip, knuckles shifting, veins faintly visible beneath the skin as the car turned.
Controlled. Steady. Too steady.
Elowyn swallowed and snapped her eyes forward, heat creeping up her neck. The feeling she labeled as fear starting to make itself known once more.
She was in a car. At night. With a scary woman. A very composed, very rich, very capable woman. Kidnapping was a possibility. Murder, even. She didn’t see any weapons, not that she’d checked thoroughly, which meant if Seraphina decided to kill her, it would be with her bare hands.
Those hands.
Elowyn’s heart picked up speed, suddenly hoping she wouldn't end up in one of those murder documentaries.
“What would you like to eat?” Seraphina asked.
Elowyn snapped out of her thoughts and stared straight ahead, panic blooming. She hadn’t thought that far. Restaurants meant choices. Choices meant wrong answers.
“I—” She swallowed. “You can choose.”
Seraphina hummed, thoughtful. “Alright.”
She took them somewhere quiet, tucked slightly away from the louder parts of the city. The restaurant glowed warmly through its windows, soft light spilling onto the sidewalk. It looked cozy. Intimate. And, unmistakably, a little expensive.
Seraphina parked and came around to open Elowyn’s door again, offering her hand to steady her as she stepped out, which Elowyn hesitantly took, her fingers barely touching the woman’s palm.
Inside, the atmosphere was hushed. Low voices. Soft music. Candles flickering on polished tables.
They were guided to a quiet table tucked just far enough from the room to feel private.
Elowyn picked up the menu and immediately felt her chest tighten.
Too many words. Too many unfamiliar foods. Sauces she didn’t recognize. Textures she couldn’t predict.
Her fingers began to fidget at the edge of the paper, bending it slightly as she scanned and rescanned, her heart tapping faster with every second that passed.
“Are you all right?” Seraphina asked gently.
Elowyn nodded automatically, then shook her head, then froze somewhere in between. “I— I’m fine...”
She trailed off, cheeks burning.
Seraphina studied her for a moment, her expression softening.
“They do have another menu,” she said smoothly. “If you’d prefer.”
Elowyn hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
When the waiter returned with the smaller menu, Elowyn felt heat rush all the way up her neck. She stared down at the children’s menu, mortified, relief and embarrassment tangled tightly together.
Chicken nuggets. French fries.
Simple, yet somehow impossible to say out loud.
Seraphina leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice. “What would you like?”
Elowyn swallowed. “…I— the chicken nuggets,” she whispered, cheeks flaming. “With fries.”
Seraphina nodded without missing a beat. “Good choice.”
When the waiter returned, Elowyn braced herself, rehearsing the words in her head, her heart pounding.
But she never had to say them.
“We’ll have the chicken nuggets with fries,” Seraphina said smoothly, then ordered for herself with the same easy elegance, as if nothing about this was unusual or worth remarking on.
Elowyn sat there, stunned and grateful, hands twisting in her lap.
Seraphina glanced at her afterward, her eyes warm.
“You’re doing just fine,” she said softly.
Elowyn nodded quickly, her eyes dropping to the table again. Her fingers curled into the edge of her sleeve, twisting the fabric once, then twice.
Seraphina let the moment settle before speaking again.
“You seem very comfortable in that coffee shop,” she said, almost conversational. “Miss Loretta’s.”
Elowyn blinked, then nodded again. “Y-Yeah.”
“How did that happen?” Seraphina asked gently. Not prying. Just curious.
Elowyn hesitated. “I’ve… I’ve known her a long time.”
Seraphina tilted her head slightly, curiosity becoming even more evident. “How long is a long time?”
Elowyn swallowed. “S-Since I was… little. Um. I was Six.”
That made Seraphina pause.
“Oh,” she said, surprised in a quiet way.
Elowyn nodded, her shoulders drawing in. “She used to, uh… give me hot chocolate when my dad worked late.”
Seraphina’s expression softened, something warm passing through her eyes. “So you grew up there.”
“Kinda,” Elowyn murmured.
Their drinks arrived, and Elowyn focused hard on unwrapping her straw, her hands steadying as she took a small sip. Seraphina thanked the waiter smoothly, then looked back at her.
“You’ve known her since you were six,” Seraphina said thoughtfully.
She smiled faintly. “That makes me curious.”
A pause.
“How old are you now? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Elowyn froze.
“I—” She cleared her throat, her voice barely there. “I’m twenty.”
Seraphina blinked.
“Twenty?” she repeated, clearly surprised. “I always assumed you were eighteen.”
Elowyn’s face went red instantly. “I get that a lot.”
Seraphina smiled, slow and thoughtful. “That explains a few things.”
Elowyn peeked up at her, confused. “It does?”
“Yes,” Seraphina said calmly. “You’re young, but not as young as you seem. There’s a steadiness there.”
Elowyn didn’t know what to do with that, so she just nodded, reaching for her straw.
The waiter returned then, setting their plates down with quiet efficiency. The clink of ceramic against the table broke the moment just enough.
Seraphina thanked him smoothly, and Elowyn murmured a shy thank you of her own, eyes fixed firmly on the food in front of her.
She adjusted her plate, fingers curling briefly around the edge before she reached for her straw again, taking a small sip as if to give herself something to focus on.
Seraphina watched her for a moment, then spoke again, lighter this time. “Is the food alright?”
Elowyn nodded, a little faster now. “Yeah. It’s good.”
“Im glad,” Seraphina said, pleased.
Elowyn glanced up again, just briefly, then back down. Her shoulders were still tense, but not as tight as before.
She didn’t say anything else.
But she didn’t need to.
Seraphina stayed right there, unhurried, letting the quiet be kind instead of demanding.
Elowyn ate in small bites, methodical, like she was afraid of finishing too fast. The fries were lined up unconsciously, nudged into a neater row before she reached for the next one.
Seraphina observed her but didn’t comment.
Instead, she sipped her drink and said, “Do you enjoy working there? At the shop.”
Elowyn nodded. “Yeah.”
A pause.
“I mean—” she added quietly, glancing up for half a second, “it’s… calm. Mostly.”
Seraphina smiled at that. “Mostly is usually the best you can hope for.”
That earned a tiny huff of a laugh from Elowyn before she could stop it. She froze, like she hadn’t meant to make that sound out loud.
Seraphina’s smile deepened, but she didn’t draw attention to it.
“What do you do when it’s quiet?” she asked instead, trying to understand the girl a bit more. “When there aren’t many customers?”
Elowyn shrugged, her shoulders lifting close to her ears. “I clean. Or… read. Sometimes, I take a LEGO set. Miss Loretta lets me, if everything’s done.”
That caught Seraphina’s attention.
“A LEGO set?” she repeated lightly, more curious than surprised. “What kind?”
Elowyn’s fingers twitched once, like she’d almost forgotten they were resting in her lap. “Um—” She hesitated, then something loosened. “Usually the smaller ones. Like the city ones. Or the brick headz. I like that they come with instructions, but you can still… change things.”
Seraphina didn’t interrupt. She just listened intently.
Elowyn kept going, words picking up speed without her noticing.
“I’ve been saving up for this one for a while, actually.
The Avengers Tower. It’s really expensive, though.
” She made a small face. “But it has, like, all the floors. The lobby, the lab, Stark’s penthouse, even the little landing pad on top.
And the minifigures have different outfits depending on the movie, which I think is really cool because they didn’t have to do that, but they did. ”
Her hands had started moving now, fingers sketching shapes in the air. “There’s even tiny details inside, like the coffee mugs and the screens, and I know no one really sees them once it’s built, but I like knowing they’re there. It's pretty cool—”
She stopped.
Abruptly.
Elowyn blinked, realization hitting all at once. Her hands stilled. Her cheeks flushed. “I—” She swallowed. “Sorry. I talked a lot.”
Across the table, Seraphina was still watching her.
Not amused. Not impatient.
Just attentive.
“You don’t need to apologize,” she said gently. “I was enjoying listening.”
Elowyn’s shoulders eased a fraction, though her face stayed warm. She nodded, quieter now, fingers curling back into her sleeve.
And Seraphina, a little surprised herself, let the moment linger.
She had never heard Elowyn’s voice quite properly before.
Just the few broken sentences she would answer with, always hurried, always half-swallowed.
Now, hearing it fully, it was softer than she’d imagined.
Gentle. Light, almost airy, like something meant to be heard up close rather than across a room.
There was a delicate clarity to it, a quiet lilt that reminded her fleetingly of something fragile and unreal, like a small fairy speaking just out of reach.
Another small silence settled between them, but it wasn’t heavy. It felt… settled. Like both of them were sitting in the same rhythm now.
Seraphina spoke again. “You seem very focused. When you’re doing something you like.”
Elowyn glanced up, this time holding her gaze for a full second longer than before. “I like when things… make sense.”
“Mmm,” Seraphina hummed.
Elowyn’s fingers twisted together, but she didn’t retreat. She took another bite, chewed, swallowed.
Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “You don’t… force me to talk too much.”
Seraphina smiled. “Is that a complaint?”
Elowyn’s eyes widened immediately. “N-No. I just—” She rushed, then stopped herself, exhaling. “I like it.”
Seraphina’s expression softened, something warm flickering there. “I see,” she said simply.
Elowyn nodded, a little more relaxed now, her foot no longer bouncing under the table. She leaned forward just a fraction, her elbows closer to the edge.
“Your office,” she said suddenly, the words tumbling out before she could second-guess them. “It’s… nice.”
“Thank you,” Seraphina replied. “I’m glad you think so.”
Elowyn nodded. “The bookshelf’s better now.”
“It is,” Seraphina agreed. “But I liked it before too.”
Elowyn frowned, confused. “It wasn’t finished.”
Seraphina met her gaze calmly. “Neither are most good things.”
Elowyn went quiet at that, chewing slowly, thinking.
She didn’t flinch this time. Didn’t look away immediately.
She just nodded once, thoughtful, a little more at ease than she’d been when she walked in.
And Seraphina let herself enjoy that, just a little.
?
Once the pair finished their meal, the waiter returned quietly, placing the small leather folder on the edge of the table.
Elowyn noticed it immediately.
Her hand moved before her brain could catch up, fingers reaching toward it on instinct. “I can—”
Seraphina was faster.
She took the bill smoothly, the motion unhurried but decisive, drawing it closer to herself as if it had always belonged there.
Elowyn froze, her hand hovering awkwardly in midair before she pulled it back to her lap.
“I can pay for mine,” she said shyly, her voice barely above the clink of silverware. “I don’t mind.”
Seraphina didn’t even look up.
"I've got it,” she said.
It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t unkind. But it was final.
Something in the tone settled the matter completely, like a door clicking shut. Elowyn’s cheeks warmed instantly, a soft heat blooming there as she nodded without thinking, her fingers twisting together under the table.
Seraphina opened her purse, the leather unmistakably expensive, smooth and structured.
Elowyn tried not to stare.
Tried.
She watched as Seraphina slid out her wallet, movements precise, practiced. From inside, she removed a single card. Black. Matte. Unmarked except for the faintest glint of metal along the edge.
Seraphina slipped it into the folder and handed it to the waiter with a polite smile.
Elowyn stared at the card for half a second too long.
Then the words left her mouth before she could stop them.
“Are you rich?”
The moment stretched.
Elowyn’s eyes widened in horror. “I— I didn’t mean— I just—”
Seraphina laughed.
Not a polite laugh. Not restrained. A real one, low and warm, clearly delighted.
“I suppose that depends on who you ask,” she said easily. “I live comfortably.”
Elowyn nodded quickly, mortified, staring very hard at the table now. “Oh. Okay.”
Seraphina watched her with open amusement, her eyes bright. “You’re very straightforward.”
Elowyn shrugged weakly. “It just came out.”
“I like the honesty,” Seraphina replied.
The waiter returned a moment later, placing the folder back down and sliding the card neatly inside. Seraphina thanked him, tucking everything away with the same calm efficiency.
She stood first, smoothing her dress, then leaned down to retrieve Elowyn’s bag from beside the chair, lifting it with easy familiarity.
“Oh— thank you,” Elowyn murmured, standing a little too quickly as she reached to take it from her.
Seraphina smiled and led the way toward the door, holding it open for her once again. Cool night air brushed in as they stepped outside, the city glowing softly around them.
Elowyn lingered for half a second, then followed Seraphina toward the car, her heart still fluttering for reasons she absolutely refused to examine.
And Seraphina, walking right beside her, glanced down once, her smile lingering, thoroughly enjoying every unguarded moment.
?
The car eased away from the curb, smooth and almost soundless as Seraphina merged into the street.
“What’s your address?” she asked calmly.
Elowyn startled slightly, blinking as if she’d almost missed the question. “Um.” She fumbled for a second, then recited it carefully, each number precise, like she was afraid of dropping one along the way.
Seraphina repeated it once under her breath, committing it to memory. “All right.”
Silence settled back in.
The city slid past the windows in softened streaks of light. Inside the car, everything felt insulated, distant. The low hum of the engine filled the space just enough to be comforting.
Elowyn shifted in her seat, her bag hugged lightly to her side. Her shoulders slowly lowered, tension easing out of them piece by piece. The warmth of the car wrapped around her, heavy in the best way.
Her eyelids drooped.
She told herself she was still awake. Just resting her eyes.
Her head tipped forward a fraction.
Then bobbed.
Elowyn jolted awake, her breath catching softly as she straightened, staring very intently at the passing road as if she’d been watching it the entire time.
The gentle rocking motions during car rides always made her sleepy in a way.
Seraphina’s gaze flicked briefly to the mirror, catching the small, flustered movement. Amusement warmed her expression, subtle and private, not quite a smile.
Elowyn’s head leaned back again, more cautiously this time. A few seconds passed. Then her chin dipped once more, slower now.
Another startle. Another quick recovery.
Seraphina’s lips curved, just barely.
She didn’t comment or tease. She simply adjusted her speed, smoothing the ride, letting the car do more of the work for her.
Elowyn finally settled, her head resting against the seat, her lashes fluttering as she hovered somewhere between awake and asleep. Her breathing evened out, shallow but calm.
Seraphina glanced at her once more, then returned her focus to the road, her expression softened by quiet fondness.
The rest of the drive passed like that.
Streetlights. Silence. And Elowyn, slowly losing the fight to stay awake, entirely unaware of the small smile she’d earned.
?
The car rolled to a stop in front of Elowyn’s small house, the soft hum of the engine fading into the evening air.
Neither spoke immediately. The world outside the windshield felt distant, slowed down, as if waiting with them. Streetlights cast long shadows across the dashboard, painting patterns over Elowyn’s face as she leaned slightly back in her seat.
Seraphina’s hand rested lightly on the wheel. Calm. Patient. Elegant, even in silence.
Elowyn swallowed, finally breaking the quiet.
“Thanks for the food… and the ride,” she said softly, the words hesitant, like testing the air.
Seraphina’s lips curved into a gentle, almost tender smile. “You’re welcome,” she murmured. “Thank you for joining me.” Her voice stayed low and smooth, carrying that quiet warmth that made Elowyn’s chest flutter. "Good night, darling.”
Elowyn reached for the door handle, hesitated a fraction, then stepped out. The chill of the night brushed against her, causing the girl to pull her cardigan tighter. “Good night,” she replied softly before turning towards her house.
Seraphina didn’t move, ensuring the girl made it to the door without incident. Only when Elowyn slipped the key into the lock and entered, closing the door behind her, did Seraphina finally lean back and start the car again.
Inside, Elowyn paused, a brief moment of comfort before reality hit. Standing in the hallway with his arms crossed, her father’s expression was stern.
“Elowyn Sofia…” he started, his voice low but firm, his eyes flicking between her and the closed door behind her.
Elowyn froze. The day’s calm and warmth vanished like smoke, replaced by the weight of something she wasn’t expecting.