Lunch break was always the loudest part of the day.
The cafeteria sat between both academy buildings—a wide glass hall filled with long tables, tall windows, and the constant echo of trays clattering against metal.
Boys and girls mixed freely here, laughter bouncing off the high ceiling.
Lira sat alone near the far end of a table, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
Joy had rushed off to grab their food, promising, "Don't move. I'll be back before you blink."
Lira stared down at the table surface instead of at the students passing by.
It was easier that way.
But quiet never lasted long.
Three shadows fell across her table.
"Wow," a sharp voice said. "She really does glow under cafeteria lights."
Lira slowly looked up.
Selene stood in front, tall and polished, blonde hair falling perfectly over her shoulders. Her smile was thin and practiced.
Beside her was Marissa, arms crossed, dark hair tied high, eyes always scanning for weakness.
And leaning slightly on the table was Ivana, chewing gum lazily, amusement dancing in her gaze.
Selene tilted her head. "Is it natural? Or do you bathe in bleach?"
A few nearby students snickered.
Lira lowered her eyes again.
Marissa reached forward and lifted a strand of Lira's silver hair between her fingers. "It doesn't even look real."
"Don't touch me," Lira said quietly.
Ivana laughed. "Oh, it talks."
Selene leaned closer. "You know, there are rumors. That you're sick. Or cursed. Which one is it?"
Lira's fingers curled slightly against the bench.
"I'm neither," she replied softly.
Marissa scoffed. "Then what are you?"
The question lingered heavier than it should have.
Before Lira could answer, another voice cut in.
"Well, whatever she is, she's still prettier than you three combined."
The girls turned.
A tall boy stood a few steps away, tray in hand.
Ronan.
Messy dark hair. Lazy confidence. A reputation for not caring about anyone's opinion.
Selene's smile tightened. "This doesn't concern you, Ronan."
He shrugged. "It does when you're being embarrassing in public."
Ivana rolled her eyes. "We're just talking."
Marissa suddenly shoved Lira's shoulder—not hard enough to injure, but enough to jolt her sideways.
"Oops," she said flatly.
Lira caught herself against the table edge. A sharp sting shot through her arm.
Something inside her chest flared—
The lights above flickered.
A low static crackled faintly in the air.
Ronan noticed.
His expression shifted slightly.
Selene frowned. "Did you feel—"
"Hey!"
Joy's voice sliced through the tension like a blade.
She stormed forward, tray nearly tipping in her hands. Her glasses slid down her nose as she shoved them back up fiercely.
"What exactly is your obsession?" Joy snapped. "Don't you get bored?"
Selene straightened. "We're just having fun."
"Then go have fun somewhere else," Joy shot back. "Preferably far away."
Ivana smirked. "You're really defending her? She doesn't even talk."
Joy stepped in front of Lira completely now. "She doesn't need to. I'll talk."
Marissa opened her mouth again—
But Ronan shifted his weight forward slightly, gaze cool.
The message was clear.
Not worth it.
Selene exhaled sharply. "Whatever. Let's go."
The three girls walked away, heels clicking against the floor.
The cafeteria noise slowly returned to normal.
Joy turned immediately. "Are you okay?"
Lira nodded, though her arm still tingled—not from the shove.
From something else.
Ronan studied her for one quiet second longer.
Then he gave a small nod and walked off.
Joy sat down beside her, placing the tray down carefully. "One day I'm actually going to throw mashed potatoes at them."
Despite everything, Lira let out the faintest laugh.
But under the table, her fingers still sparked softly—
A tiny flicker of lightning dancing across her skin before fading away.
They finally settled properly at the table, the noise of the cafeteria washing over them like nothing had happened.
Joy slid a carton of juice toward Lira. "Drink. You look like you fought a war."
Lira gave a small smile and took it. "I'm fine."
Joy leaned back in her chair, watching her carefully anyway.
For a moment, they ate in silence.
Then Lira spoke quietly, almost hesitant. "I think… I'll thank Ronan."
Joy nearly choked. "Thank him?"
"Yes."
Joy scoffed, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Why? He probably stepped in because they were being loud and annoying, not because he suddenly cares."
Lira tilted her head slightly. "Still."
Joy waved her fork dramatically. "Ronan Hale has always been like that. Random hero moments. Zero emotional attachment. He'd defend a chair if it was being bullied."
That made Lira laugh softly.
A real one this time.
Joy's expression softened at the sound.
"I know," Lira said gently. "But I'll thank him anyway."
Joy narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're too nice."
"Ronan can do what he wants," Lira replied. "That doesn't mean I shouldn't."
Joy stared at her for a second, then sighed dramatically. "You're impossible."
Lira simply smiled.
Joy reached across the table and lightly patted Lira's hand. "Just be careful, okay?"
There was something unspoken beneath her words.
Not about Ronan.
About everything.
Lira nodded.
"I will."
But as she lowered her gaze, a faint flicker of light reflected in her white-silver eyes—
Like distant lightning waiting behind calm skies.
----
On the other side of the cafeteria, near the tall windows where the light hit too sharply, Caelan had seen everything.
The shove.
The flicker of lights.
The way Lira went still instead of fighting back.
His grip tightened around his fork.
He had half-risen from his seat when Selene leaned in.
Half-risen.
But he forced himself back down.
If he interfered, it wouldn't be subtle.
And if he lost control—
He didn't want that.
Didn't want the heat crawling up his spine.
Didn't want the air to thicken.
Didn't want eyes turning toward him next.
So he stayed seated.
And hated it.
When Ronan stepped in instead, Caelan's jaw tightened—not in anger.
In relief.
A few minutes later, Ronan walked over casually and dropped into the seat across from him, tray landing with a dull clatter.
He ate lazily, like nothing significant had happened.
Caelan stared at him for a moment.
"…Thanks," he muttered quietly.
Ronan didn't look up immediately.
He chewed, swallowed, then gave a small nod. "It was loud."
Caelan reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded bill.
He slid twenty bucks across the table.
"Here. Your reward."
Ronan's eyes finally lifted.
He looked at the money.
Then at Caelan.
Then back at the money.
Without warning, he smacked Caelan's hand—not hard, but sharp enough to sting.
The bill fell back toward Caelan.
"I didn't do it for money," Ronan said evenly.
Caelan blinked. "Ow—what was that for?"
Ronan stabbed a piece of food with his fork calmly. "Don't cheapen it."
"I wasn't cheapening it."
"You were."
Caelan rubbed the back of his hand, frowning. "You could've just said no."
Ronan shrugged slightly. "You understand better when it stings."
"That's not how communication works."
"It worked."
Caelan stared at him.
"…You're annoying."
"So I've been told."
There was a pause.
Caelan leaned back in his chair. "Still. You didn't have to."
Ronan's gaze flickered briefly past him—to where Lira sat with Joy.
"I know."
Something unreadable passed across his expression.
Then he went back to eating like it didn't matter at all.