The Girl Who Got Sick Waiting
Serena was seven again.
The playground was empty—too quiet for a place meant for laughter. The swing creaked as it moved back and forth, pushed by nothing but the wind. Serena sat on the worn wooden bench, legs dangling, fingers wrapped tightly around a small paper ring.
Lucien had made it for her.
"I promise," he'd said, grinning with grass-stained knees and reckless certainty. "When we grow up, I'll marry you. I'll come back for you no matter what."
She believed him.
She always did.
The sun shifted. The sky dimmed.
She waited.
And waited.
Every passing car made her sit straighter. Every voice in the distance made her heart leap. Her smile slowly faded, replaced by confusion, then worry.
Then night came.
Her throat burned. Her head spun. She felt cold—so cold.
Days blurred after that.
Her parents' worried faces. Doctors murmuring. Fever dreams where Lucien stood just out of reach, calling her name but never turning around.
"She keeps asking for the boy," a nurse whispered once.
"She'll forget," someone replied gently.
But Serena didn't forget.
She just learned how to stop waiting.
She woke with a sharp inhale, sheets twisted around her legs, heart pounding.
Morning light filtered through the curtains.
Serena stared at the ceiling for a long time.
Her body felt heavy. Sluggish. Like she'd run miles in her sleep.
"Get up," she whispered to herself.
The shower water ran warm, but she barely felt it. She moved slowly—methodically—washing, dressing, tying her hair back without care. A simple top. A skirt. Leggings. Sneakers.
Downstairs, breakfast waited.
She ate quietly.
Lucien watched her over the rim of his coffee cup, saying nothing for once.
When she reached for her bag, he stood too.
"I'll drive," he said gently.
She didn't argue.
The ride to school was silent—but not uncomfortable. The kind of quiet that wrapped around instead of pressing in.
When they arrived, Serena stepped out of the car—and waited.
Lucien came around to her side.
Together, they walked in.
No teasing.
No forcing.
No Elise.
Heads turned anyway.
Just before her classroom, Lucien stopped.
She turned back, confused.
He stepped closer and pulled her into a hug.
Firm. Warm. Steady.
Serena stiffened for half a second—then melted into it.
Lucien rested his forehead against hers and pressed a soft kiss there.
It was quiet.
Intimate.
Public.
"I've got you," he murmured.
Her classmates stared.
Cameras flashed.
Serena didn't pull away.
The internet exploded by lunch.
EliteCampus Media — Breaking Post
CONFIRMED?
Sources claim Serena Blake and Lucien Reed are engaged since childhood.
Billionaire families. UK history. Contract rumored to still be valid.
👀💍🔥
Comments
@TeaSpiller:
THE FOREHEAD KISS??? That's not casual.
@IceQueenWatcher:
Guess the Ice Queen was always someone's fiancée.
@ValeCassandra:
Truth always comes out eventually 💋
Serena stared at her phone, fingers numb.
Lucien didn't.
He walked straight up to her table, bent down, and stole a bite of her lunch.
"Hey," he said brightly. "Fiancée privileges."
She glared weakly. "You're impossible."
He smiled wider. "Wait till after school."
And he meant it.
He held her hand in the hallways.
Sat beside her in class.
Leaned close when he spoke, voice low and intimate.
When a guy tried to sit near her?
Lucien casually slid into the seat first.
When girls whispered?
Lucien smiled and waved.
By the end of the day, there was no ambiguity left.
Lucien Reed wasn't flirting.
He was claiming.
That night, Serena lay in bed again—but this time, her chest felt… different.
He hadn't left.
He hadn't disappeared.
And for the first time since she was seven years old, Serena Blake wondered—
What if waiting hadn't been a mistake?