Chapter Seven — Afterglow
Lyra's POV
The world felt softer the next morning — like the city itself was still half-asleep.
Sunlight spilled through my curtains, catching on the little star hanging at my throat. My hair still smelled faintly of smoke and pool water, and my throat hurt from laughing too much.
It was a good kind of ache.
Downstairs, Mom was already sketching blueprints at the dining table, glasses sliding down her nose. She looked up when I came in.
"Morning, half-asleep architect," she teased.
"Morning, full-time one." I stole a bite of her toast and sat beside her.
She smiled. "You were out late."
"Art club," I lied automatically. "We were painting banners."
"Mm-hmm." She didn't press, just nodded toward her screen. "So, about that design internship—"
"Later," I said. "Let me survive first-week senior stress before we plan my future."
Her laugh followed me into the kitchen.
By noon, the group chat was buzzing again.
Soraya: emergency brunch @ clover's??
Saphira: mandatory attendance. hangovers optional.
Evan: already there. coffee's on me.
Aveline: someone bring Cassian before he eats cold pizza again.
I smiled, tugging on a hoodie and my necklace before heading out.
Clover's Café was packed with the usual weekend noise — the hiss of espresso machines, clinking cups, the hum of sunlight on glass. Our table in the corner was already full of chaos.
Cassian was telling some wild story about how he "saved a flaming marshmallow from certain death."
Soraya kept interrupting with dramatic reenactments.
Saphira had her phone out, filming everything.
"Why are you recording?" I asked, sipping my caramel latte.
"Memories," she said, grinning. "We need proof we were this happy once."
"'Once'? Dramatic much?"
She winked. "You'll thank me later."
We stayed there for hours — laughing, teasing, making plans. Evan and I split a blueberry muffin, and he wiped icing off my cheek with his thumb like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He leaned back, gaze soft. "I like this," he said. "All of it."
"Yeah," I said, matching his smile. "Feels like the start of something good."
And it did.
The café door chimed as a breeze swept through. I didn't notice the glance Soraya and Saphira shared, quick and unreadable. I didn't see Aveline's hand tighten around her cup, or Cassian's brief silence before cracking another joke.
I was too busy memorizing the way sunlight fell on Evan's face — the way his laughter filled the space between everything I'd ever been afraid of.
If I had looked closer, maybe I would've seen it.
The flicker beneath the warmth.
The secret that would eventually break all of this open.
But I didn't.
Because that day, we were still golden.
Still whole.
Still the kind of happy that makes you forget you're standing on a fault line.