The night was gentle — the kind that balanced itself between the stars and moonlight. Silver rays spilled through the infirmary windows, wrapping the room in quiet serenity. But beneath that calm shimmered an unspoken tension — the kind born from two stubborn souls and one mischievous little sister.
Valentine glanced at Abdre, then at André, mischief flickering in her eyes like a secret spark.
The doctor's footsteps broke the silence as he approached her bedside, his tone professional yet cautious.
"Her knee isn't in a good shape," he said, inspecting the wound. "It'll take a few days to heal fully."
André's gaze darkened instantly. "Continue."
The doctor swallowed lightly and added, "She shouldn't strain herself — no running, no walking long distances, and absolutely no stairs. I'll prescribe a healing ointment."
Valentine nodded obediently, her tone small. "Thank you, doctor."
But before the man could leave, André's low voice cut through the room.
"Add a scar-removal cream."
The doctor blinked, then nodded and hurried off.
Valentine's gaze flicked toward André, her lips parting slightly as she thought to herself —'Sometimes he's considerate… and other times, he's a walking headache.'
She muttered, "You know, you could've just said 'get well soon.'"
He gave her a cool glance. "You never listen, do you? Maybe I'll add another line to your next punishment list."
Her mouth dropped open slightly, but before she could retort, she remembered she had to text Rachel.
"Um… I need to message my friend. She'll panic if I don't tell her I'm staying overnight."
André nodded silently, then turned to his sister. "Abdre, go home. Your caretaker's waiting."
Abdre's eyes drooped. "But I want to stay with Valentine," she protested, her tone soft but stubborn.
Valentine's heart sank as she thought to herself. 'If Abdre leaves, how am I supposed to pull off the plan we made?'
Abdre stared at her brother, pouting.
But André's cold gaze said otherwise. Abdre's shoulders fell, and she gave Valentine a small, reluctant wave.
"Goodnight, Val."
"Night," Valentine whispered, waving back weakly.
André escorted his sister to the car, making sure she left before returning.
---
Valentine sat on the infirmary bed, her phone glowing faintly against the dim light.
Rachel's messages blinked rapidly.
Rachel: So you're spending the night… with the president? 👀
Valentine: It's not what you think.
Rachel: Uh-huh. Sure. Did he at least say goodnight in a romantic way?
Valentine: Rachel!
Rachel: Fine fine. But if you come back tomorrow with a new nickname like "Miss President," I'm changing your contact name.
Valentine was too busy glaring at her screen to notice André's return. He stood at the doorway, watching her — the tiny frown on her lips, her lashes fluttering as she typed, and the way her expressions changed every second.
She was… cute. Annoyingly so.
With a quiet sigh, he crossed the room and leaned down, snatching the phone gently from her hands.
Valentine blinked, startled. "H-Hey! What are you doing—!"
He knocked her forehead lightly with his finger. "Rest. Not scroll."
Her lips parted in protest, but when he fixed his gaze on her, she huffed, puffing her cheeks and folding her arms. "You're impossible."
"Good. Then you'll sleep without arguing."
She turned her face away. "Bossy," she muttered under her breath.
André chuckled softly — a sound rare enough to make her blink. He bent lower, his breath brushing against her face as his hand tilted her chin toward him.
Their eyes met — close, too close. The air thinned between them.
Her lips were slightly parted, pink and soft, and her lashes trembled under his gaze. He felt his throat tighten as his pulse quickened — she was breathtaking in a way she clearly didn't know.
He cleared his throat quickly and stood straight, averting his gaze. "Get some sleep. Don't come to class if your leg hurts."
Valentine could only nod — stiff, robotic — her heart thudding like a drum.
When he left, the air felt too quiet, too still.
She touched her chest, feeling the warmth spread there. Why does my heart act like this around him…?
---
Morning came quietly. A soft knock followed by a gentle tap on her shoulder stirred Valentine from sleep.
She blinked and found two familiar faces — Rachel and Maysha, already dressed in their uniforms.
"Morning, sleepyhead!" Rachel beamed, holding a lunch box. "We brought breakfast and your uniform."
Maysha smiled warmly. "How's your leg?"
Valentine's heart softened. "You guys… I don't deserve this much kindness."
They helped her sit up, chatting lightly as she ate. The doctor soon arrived, bandaged her knee neatly, and warned, "No sports. No running. Understand?"
Rachel saluted dramatically. "Aye aye, doctor!"
After thanking him, the girls left the infirmary together. The morning air was bright, yet something felt… off.
Whispers followed them down the hallway.
Valentine noticed people glancing her way — not out of curiosity, but with judgment.
"Why is everyone staring?" she whispered.
Rachel frowned. "I was wondering the same thing."
Before they could guess further, Maysha gasped. "Val… look at this."
She turned her phone around, and Valentine froze.
It was a post on the school forum — titled in bold red:
"Caught in the Act: The President's Late-Night 'Infirmary Escort' 😏💋"
Attached were photos — André helping Valentine out of the car, her limp edited to look like a dramatic stumble. Another photo showed him carrying her, but this time, the angle made it seem like she was clutching him on purpose, her face turned toward his.
Comments:
"So she's playing the innocent transfer student, huh?"
"Tsk. Using her injury as bait? Classic."
"Our president sure has… interesting taste."
Rachel's eyes widened. "Tell me this didn't actually happen."
"It didn't!" Valentine said quickly, her voice trembling. "I swear, I didn't— it's edited!"
Maysha scrolled through, her brows furrowing. "Someone's trying to stir drama. And whoever they are… they're targeting you, Valentine."
Rachel's tone softened. "We'll figure out who's behind this. But for now, keep your head high."
Valentine nodded faintly, though her chest tightened. The stares, the whispers — all of it made her want to disappear.
Why does trouble keep finding me?
As the three girls walked on, the morning sun cast their shadows long across the courtyard — three silhouettes against a world that suddenly felt full of secrets.
And somewhere, unseen, another pair of eyes watched them from the upper window of the Student Council room — a faint smirk forming under the dim light.
💬Author's note:
Hey readers 🌙
Seems like things at Malcolm College just got spicy! Someone's clearly out to stir trouble for Valentine — but who's bold enough to mess with the president's business? 👀
And… did anyone else catch that almost-kiss moment? 😳
Next chapter's going to test both hearts and trust. Don't miss it!