Sara smoothed the sleeve of her coat as the car neared the café. Her heart beat faster than she expected. She hadn't called it a date — not out loud — but her mother's knowing smile that morning still lingered in her mind like a spark she couldn't shake.
When she stepped out into the crisp afternoon air, Amy was already waiting.
And for a moment, nothing else mattered.
The date was quiet, warm, filled with gentle teasing and long stretches of shared silence that never felt awkward. They talked about books, music, small things with big meanings. At one point, Amy looked at her — really looked — and Sara felt it like a string being pulled gently, insistently, through her chest.
Amy walked her to the car when it was over.
"Thank you," Sara said, almost shy.
Amy gave a small smile. "Anytime."
When she stepped inside her house, heels clicking softly against the marble floor, the quiet was waiting for her — and so was her mother.
Auralienne stood by the window, a crystal teacup in hand, her golden hair pinned up with perfect care. She turned slowly; eyes gleaming.
"You're late," she said, voice calm, melodic.
"It wasn't that late," Sara replied, unbothered.
Auralienne's lips curved faintly. "Did she at least walk you to the car?"
Sara froze. "…What?"
"Oh, sweetheart." Her mother set the cup down with a graceful clink. "You didn't think I didn't know?"
Sara sighed and dropped onto the edge of the couch. "It wasn't a date."
"Mm." Auralienne tilted her head. "That's not what your expression says."
Sara groaned, burying her face in her hands.
Her mother sat beside her; eyes soft now. "So? Are you going to tell me, or do I have to pry it out like a villain?"
"It was nice," Sara admitted, muffled. "She's… different."
Auralienne didn't press. Just waited.
So, Sara told her everything.
The conversation. The laughter. The way Amy looked at her like she saw something valuable. Something real.
Her mother listened in silence, then finally said, "You like her."
"I don't know," Sara whispered. "Maybe."
"You do," Auralienne said gently, brushing a strand of hair from Sara's cheek. "And that's alright."
Sara leaned against her, quiet.
The week passed slowly.
At first, she told herself Amy was just busy. But by the fourth day with no message, she began checking her phone more often. Staring at the last text. Rereading it. Wondering if she'd misread everything.
By Friday night, she was pacing.
Then a name flashed in her mind: Lumi.
They'd worked together on a group project once, exchanged numbers for coordination — and never deleted them.
Sara opened her messages and hesitated… then typed:
[Sara]: Hey… this is kind of random. It's Sara Veylan. I was wondering if you've heard from Amy lately?
A pause.
Then:
[Lumi 💫]: Saraaa! OMG hi! 👀 I've heard from her, yeah. She's okay! But I'm guessing you want more than that?
[Sara]: Just curious. We talked recently. I thought she might message. But… she hasn't.
[Lumi 💫]: Hmm… I promise she's not ignoring you. But I can't really speak for her, y'know? That's her story to share.
[Sara]: Of course. I didn't mean to pry.
[Lumi 💫]: You're not! Just protective friend mode activated 🔒
Sara smiled faintly at the screen.
Then, before she could talk herself out of it:
[Sara]: Do you think she'd say yes if I invited her out?
[Lumi 💫]: 👀✨ I think she'd faint. But yes. Yes, she would.
Sara hesitated.
[Sara]: …What does she like? So, I don't mess it up.
[Lumi 💫]: Oh ho ho. Now that I can help with. Let's plan something she'll never forget.
Sara's heart beat faster.
She hadn't planned for any of this.
But suddenly?
She wanted it.