Chapter Eighteen: Slightly Possessive, Highly Flustered
(Lyra's POV)
The morning after Halloween, I couldn't stop replaying last night's kiss. My wings — okay, the costume was long gone, but my lavender crown still twinkled faintly in my room — felt like a memory stitched into me.
Soraya and Saphira arrived at my door before I could breathe.
"Lyra! Spill! Tell us everything!" Soraya practically bounced in.
"I—nothing! Stop!" I tried to push past them, hiding behind my notebook.
Evan, of course, was waiting outside when I left for school, leaning casually against his car. His golden hair glinted in the morning sun.
"Good morning, Sol," he said, voice low, almost teasing, almost warning. "Mind if I walk with you?"
I blinked. "Uh… sure?"
He fell into step beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him. And then… every time someone tried to get my attention — Soraya, Saphira, random classmates — Evan would step slightly closer. Subtle, but definitely protective.
"Um… hey, Sol," he said softly when a group of girls waved at me. "You're mine today."
I choked on my coffee. "Wh-what?"
He smirked, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Mine. Don't let anyone steal you."
I felt my cheeks heat up. "You're… ridiculous."
At school, the abandoned music room became our safe little chaos corner again. The group sprawled across the piano loft, desks, and the small stage, joking, laughing, eating candy. Evan stayed slightly closer to me than usual — brushing my shoulder occasionally, taking my sketchbook to glance at my drawings, subtly making sure I noticed he was watching.
Saphira leaned over, grinning. "Looks like someone's a little… territorial."
I groaned. "Stop teasing!"
Soraya snorted. "Territorial? That's a polite way of putting it."
Evan smirked, leaning over my shoulder. "I'm not teasing. Just… checking in on my fairy."
I froze. "You're impossible."
Meanwhile, Cassian and Aveline were in the background, whispering, poking, and pretending not to care — except everyone could see the tiny sparks and tension between them.
I sketched quietly, capturing all of it — the group, the teasing, the chaos, the little moments of Evan's soft possessiveness. My heart hammered every time his hand brushed mine or his eyes lingered a second too long.
By lunch, the group had settled at Clover's Café, mugs steaming, laughter flowing, and candy wrappers scattered across the table.
"You know," Saphira said, leaning over, "Lyra, your little possessive magician is… a problem."
"Stop!" I buried my face in my hands.
Evan grinned, eyes twinkling, and brushed a stray strand of hair from my face. "I am a problem, yes. But only for you."
I couldn't breathe. My fingers fumbled with my fork, my cheeks blazing red.
When the final bell rang, Evan fell into step beside me again. "You coming to the music room later?" he asked, voice soft, subtle warning in his tone.
"I… probably," I said, cheeks heating again.
"Good. Because that's our spot. Just remember it."
I could only nod, flustered, watching him walk away briefly before he glanced back at me, smirked, and called, "Sol."
I melted. And somehow… I didn't want him to stop.