Felicity's POV — The Bomb Drop.
If there was one thing I knew for sure, it was this: mornings like these should be protected under law. Chris's hand was still warm on my hip from earlier. We'd already showered, eaten pancakes, and drifted into that dangerous, lazy lull that made the outside world feel entirely optional.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I whispered, my pulse way too loud in my ears.
Chris was staring again. That unreadable, too-intense stare that made my lungs malfunction.
"Because," he said softly, voice dipping into something dangerous, "I'm trying to figure out the exact moment you became my favorite part of the day."
My mind went blank. Warmth bloomed across my cheeks. My heart raced like it only beat for him.
And then—BANG! BANG! BANG! Which, of course, was when Penelope decided to break into my life.
The door rattled like it was about to fly off its hinges.
"Felicity Paddington!" Her voice dripped with way-too-much-energy-for-this-hour. "Don't make me use my spare key!"
I groaned into my hands. "She does not have a spare key."
Chris, maddeningly calm, murmured, "Pretty sure she does."
"She doesn't."
BANG. BANG. BANG.
"I have urgent girl business! And by urgent, I mean you're not going to want to be in that bed much longer if you value your dignity!"
That got me moving. I scrambled upright, hair tousled into a golden halo,
shirt definitely not in a 'public-ready' state. Chris leaned back against the wall, smirking like he was enjoying the free show.
"Quite the sister you've got there," he said.
"She's your sister," I shot back.
"Yes, but she's currently your problem."
When I yanked the door open, Penelope barreled inside like a human hurricane, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Hello, love. Oh—hi, Chris. Good morning, lovebirds," she chirped. "Nice shirt. Is it yours, Felicity?"
I yanked it down defensively. "What do you want?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just thought you should know someone's looking for you."
And then she winked. Which could only mean one thing: trouble.
"CODE RED. CODE RED. THE WORLD IS ENDING," Penelope declared, arms full of books, hair flying, her expression looking like scandal personified.
Chris straightened like a guilty teenager caught sneaking out. I might've squeaked.
"What the hell, Penelope?" I snapped, clutching the pillow like a life vest.
She marched in with the flair of a soap opera actress.
"One, I nearly died of starvation waiting for you in the cafeteria. Two, Chris, I tripped over your shoelace in the hallway—please don't be plotting my murder. Three…" Her eyes flicked between us, gleaming with mischief. "…what exactly are you two plotting, and do I need to call security?"
"I—what?!" My voice cracked. Fantastic.
Chris said nothing. Just tightened his jaw in that way that made me panic even more.
Penelope gasped theatrically. "Wait. Don't tell me I just walked in on a moment."
"We were not—"
"Oh my gosh, you were!" She clapped her hands, delight shining in her eyes. "I knew it. The way he looks at you? Suspicious. The way you blush every time he breathes near you? Absolutely obvious. My detective senses never fail."
Chris raised a brow. "Detective senses?"
"Yes, Prince Broody, don't interrupt me when I'm in the middle of blowing Felicity's love life wide open."
I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. Or for someone to invent a time machine so I could strangle past-me before befriending Penelope.
"And FOUR," Penelope barreled on, "rumor mill alert: guess who I just overheard in the quad asking if Felicity was single?"
My stomach dropped. "What—"
"Alex," she sang. "Tall, charming, stupidly nice Alex. Yes, Fel. Now, picture this: me, casually minding my business by the vending machine when suddenly…"
Penelope leaned against the imaginary vending machine, sipping her juice box like it was champagne. "Sooo, Alex," she began, eyes narrowing, "why were you asking around about Felicity in the quad?"
Alex's ears went pink. "Oh, that? Nothing. Just… you know. She's… nice."
"Nice?" Penelope arched a brow. "That's all? Because I clearly heard you grilling poor James from Economics about whether she's single. Don't even try to play dumb."
Alex rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. "Fine, maybe I was. It's just… she's different. Not like everyone else here. And I was thinking of, uh…" His voice dropped. "…asking her out. Coffee. Something simple."
Penelope gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "A confession over cappuccino? Oh, Alex. Do you realize how many hearts will shatter if you actually win her over?"
Alex laughed, flustered. "It's just coffee, Penelope."
"Mm-hm," she hummed with a sly smile. "And I suppose just coffee never led to butterflies, stolen glances, and happily-ever-afters?"
Alex muttered, "You're impossible," but the way his grin lingered gave him away.
That's when Penelope's eyes gleamed with wicked glee. "Well then… may the best man win."
Chris's expression darkened so subtly most people would've missed it. But I noticed. Oh, I definitely noticed.
"So! Who's it gonna be, Fel?" Penelope grinned like a shark. "Mr. Dark and Broody or Mr. Sunshine and Smooth? Honestly, I'd pick my brother Chris—because you two have insane chemistry—but hey, who knows? No offense brother."
"Non-taking," he said.
"PENELOPE!" I shrieked, my face so hot I could've powered the campus generator.
"Oh please," she whispered conspiratorially, "are you drooling for both of them or not? Make up your mind, girl."
"Ugh, you are impossible. Get going, you dork, before I start crying from secondhand embarrassment."
She just winked, tossed my notebook on the bed, and sauntered out—like she hadn't just detonated three nuclear bombs in my life.
>>>>>
Christopher's POV: Suspicion Brewing. Damage Control. Almost Words.
Penelope was up to something. I could tell by the way she kept glancing between me and Felicity like she'd just tossed a grenade and was waiting for it to go off.
"Who's looking for her?" I asked, careful to keep my voice even.
Penelope's grin widened. "Oh, you'll see."
Felicity's brows furrowed, but she didn't press. She just grabbed her bag, muttered something about "probably nothing," and slipped past me. That was the first red flag.
The second came when Penelope hummed under her breath, clearly enjoying herself, and said, "Don't worry, Chris. You'll get your turn."
My turn for what, exactly?
Something in my gut tightened. I didn't like the way she'd said it. And I really didn't like the way Felicity's phone buzzed just then—or the quick glance she gave it before shoving it into her pocket.
Alex was circling. I'd seen the way he hovered near Felicity, like he had some right. Like she belonged to him.
And Fel…she was too oblivious to notice. Or maybe she noticed and pretended not to. Either way, it set my teeth on edge.
"Don't listen to her," Fel mumbled, fumbling with the pillow, cheeks still glowing.
I studied her. The way she couldn't meet my eyes. The way her fingers twisted nervously. She was hiding something—maybe from me, maybe from herself.
Part of me wanted to corner her, demand answers, ask why she got so flustered when I was near. The other part…wanted to drag her closer and erase Alex from the picture entirely.
But I bit it back. For now.
Because if Alex wanted to play this game—he'd find I don't lose.
Penelope finally swanned out, leaving behind her trail of chaos. The door clicked shut, and I swear the air shifted back to that charged, unspoken something Felicity and I had been drowning in before her interruption.
Felicity was fussing with her hair, pretending she wasn't flustered, pretending Penelope hadn't just nearly caught us in the middle of something. She wouldn't even look at me straight.
Cute. Suspiciously cute.
Dangerously cute.
I leaned back against the desk, arms crossed, trying to look casual. Inside, though, it was anything but.
Just say it, Chris. Tell her. Tell her she drives you insane. I want you, you're mine. Tell her you can't stand Alex circling her like a vulture. Tell her she's yours. But it comes out veiled in jealousy and a warning.
But instead, I smirked. Coward.
"Relax, Paddington. You look like you're hiding state secrets."
Her eyes darted up—defensive, then annoyed, then… that flicker I knew too well. The one that made me want to rip the mask off both of us.
She feels it too. And then—like clockwork—Alex's name slithered into my brain, and my stomach twisted. He was always there. Too close. Too convenient. Too much of a risk.
I clenched my jaw.
"What exactly is going on with you and him?"
The words came out sharper than I'd meant. It wasn't curiosity—it was jealousy, raw and ugly.
She blinked, startled. "What?"
I should've stopped there. Should've laughed it off. But the truth burned in my throat. I don't want him near you. I want you with me. I don't care about logic, or duty. I just want you.
The words almost slipped free—hot, reckless, too much. But I swallowed them down.
Instead I leaned closer, dropped my voice low enough to make her shiver.
"Just… remember who was here first, Fel."
Her breath hitched. She didn't answer. And the silence said more than anything.