This is some scene that inspired to started making this story. Even no one read it.
Here is the edited and expanded version of the story. I've taken the section where he plays and replaced the vague descriptions with the actual lyrics and Enid's real-time reactions to them.
Disclaimer: This scene involve use the lyrics from Golden Hour by Jvke and I Like me better by Lauv. I don't own any of that and only use their material for creative work and didn't get, wouldn't plan to earn money through it.
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GOLDEN HOUR
Enid's POV - Thursday Afternoon
The library was a nightmare.
Every table was taken. Every study room was booked. Even the floor space between the stacks had students camped out with their laptops and textbooks. Midterms were next week, and apparently everyone had decided to have a collective panic at the exact same time.
"This is hopeless," Enid said, clutching their Folklore and Mythology project materials. "We're never going to find space to work."
Gabriel surveyed the crowded library with a slight frown. "We could try the commissary?"
"Also packed. I checked on the way here."
"Your dorm?"
"Yoko's got her study group there until six. They're very loud." Enid sighed. "Your dorm?"
"Stefan's sick. Some kind of gorgon cold. He's been sneezing stone dust all day."
They stood in the library entrance, at an impasse. Their project was due Monday, and they'd barely started the practical component—a presentation on how different outcast species interpreted the same mythology differently.
"Wait," Gabriel said suddenly. "The music rooms. They're usually empty this time of day. We could work there."
"The music rooms? Aren't those for, you know, music?"
"They have tables. And doors that close. And they're almost always empty because everyone forgets they exist." Gabriel was already heading toward the stairs. "Come on."
Enid followed, curious. She'd never actually been to the music rooms. They were in the older part of the castle, down a corridor lined with portraits of severe-looking former headmasters.
Gabriel led her to the third door on the left and pushed it open.
The room was beautiful in a faded, forgotten way. Afternoon sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating dust motes in the air. There was a grand piano in the corner, a few music stands, some chairs, and—blessedly—a large table.
"See?" Gabriel said, setting his bag down. "Perfect."
"It's actually really nice." Enid put her materials on the table and looked around. The walls were lined with old instruments—violins, a cello, several guitars. "Do people still use this room?"
"Occasionally. Principal Weems has been trying to revive the music program, but most students are too busy with their outcast abilities to care about learning instruments." Gabriel pulled out his laptop. "Should we start with the Norse mythology section? I think that's where we're weakest."
They settled into work, spreading out books and notes. It should have felt like any other study session, but something about the music room made it different. More intimate, maybe. Or maybe it was just that they were alone, really alone, without the ambient noise of the library or the threat of interruptions.
Enid was halfway through reading about Fenrir when she remembered.
"Wait," she said, looking up. "You told me once that you play music. Instruments."
Gabriel didn't look up from his notes. "I mentioned that?"
"During one of our late-night texts. I asked what you did to relax, and you said training and music."
"Right." He was definitely not making eye contact now. "I dabble."
"Dabble." Enid closed her textbook. "What does that mean?"
"It means I play a few instruments. It's not a big deal."
But his ears were slightly red, which Enid had learned meant he was embarrassed or uncomfortable.
"What instruments?" she pressed, because now she was genuinely curious.
Gabriel sighed, recognizing he wasn't getting out of this. "Piano. Violin. Guitar. Some others."
"Some others? Gabriel, that's not dabbling. That's being actually talented." Enid twisted in her chair to look at the piano. "Can you play that one?"
"Probably. It looks maintained."
"Will you play something? For me?"
Gabriel's head snapped up. "What? No. We have work to do."
"We can take a break. Come on, I want to hear you play!" Enid stood up and walked to the piano, running her fingers along its smooth surface. "Please?"
"Enid, I don't think—" Gabriel stood too, but didn't move toward the piano. "My musical taste is probably very different from yours. You like pop music and upbeat things. I play... different stuff."
"So? I want to hear what you play. Not what you think I want to hear." Enid sat on the piano bench and patted the space next to her. "Please, Gabriel? I promise I won't judge."
Gabriel looked conflicted, his jaw tight. Enid recognized that expression—he was weighing risks, trying to decide if this would somehow push her away.
"You don't have to if you really don't want to," Enid added softly. "But I'd really like to hear you play."
Something in her tone must have convinced him, because Gabriel crossed the room slowly and sat down next to her on the bench. The space was small, their shoulders almost touching.
"One song," he said. "And then we're going back to work."
"Deal."
Gabriel's hands hovered over the keys for a moment. "This is... it's a newer song. I heard it a few months ago and learned it because..." He paused. "Because it felt relevant."
"Relevant how?"
But Gabriel didn't answer. Instead, he began to play.
The first notes were gentle, warm. A simple, iconic melody that immediately filled the room with something that felt like sunlight. Enid watched his hands move across the keys with practiced ease, and she realized this wasn't "dabbling" at all. This was someone who'd spent hours perfecting their craft.
And then Gabriel started singing.
Enid's breath caught.
His voice was nothing like she expected. It was soft, slightly rough around the edges, but there was something raw and honest in it. He wasn't performing—he was sharing something deeply personal, his eyes fixed on the keys.
"It was just two lovers," he sang, his voice quiet. "Sittin' in the car, listening to Blonde... Fallin' for each other, pink and orange skies, feelin' super childish... No Donald Glover."
A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips, and he seemed to relax into the melody. He continued, the story in the song unfolding.
"Missed call from my mother... 'Like, where you at tonight?'... Got no alibi..."
He took a short breath, and as the chords shifted, he turned his head and looked directly at her.
"I was all alone with the love of my life."
Enid felt her heartbeat stall. Oh. This wasn't just a song he liked. This was a message. His dark eyes were fixed on hers, vulnerable and completely open. The afternoon light from the window caught in his hair, making him look softer than she'd ever seen him.
His gaze held hers as the music swelled into the chorus, his voice gaining strength and a raw, heartfelt emotion that made her chest tighten.
"She's got glitter for skin... My radiant beam in the night."
Enid's mind flashed to her colorful dorm room, her bright clothes, her neon-streaked hair—everything that was the polar opposite of his darkness. My radiant beam.
"I don't need no light to see you... Shine."
A single tear escaped and tracked down her cheek before she could stop it. He wasn't just singing; he was telling her.
"It's your golden hour..." he sang, and the sunlight streaming into the room seemed to intensify, wrapping them in a bubble of warm light. "You slow down time... In your golden hour."
He broke eye contact then, looking back at the keys as if his own boldness had embarrassed him. But his hands didn't stop. He moved into the second verse, his voice softer again.
"We were just two lovers... Feet up on the dash, drivin' nowhere fast... Burnin' through the summer... Radio on blast, make the moment last..."
Enid was barely breathing. She was memorizing this moment: the way his fingers moved, the earnest, rough edge of his voice, the feeling of the music vibrating through the piano bench, the impossible, tender confession unfolding in the quiet, dusty room.
He looked back at her for the final lines of the chorus, his voice full of conviction.
"I was all alone with the love of my life... She's got glitter for skin... My radiant beam in the night... I don't need no light to see you... Shine."
He finished with the title line, letting it hang in the air like a question.
"It's your golden hour..."
When the final notes faded, the music room fell into complete silence.
Gabriel's hands remained on the keys, but he didn't move. Didn't look at her.
"Gabriel," Enid whispered.
"I told you," he said quietly, still not looking at her. "Different from what you usually listen to."
"That was..." Enid struggled to find words. "That was beautiful."
"It's just a song."
"It's not just a song." Enid turned on the bench to face him fully. "Gabriel, look at me."
He did, finally, and his expression was guarded. Afraid.
"Why did you choose that song?" Enid asked, even though she thought she knew the answer.
Gabriel was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Because it's how I feel. When I'm with you. Like everything is... golden. Better. Right." He looked away again. "I know that probably sounds ridiculous—"
"It doesn't." Enid reached out and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "It doesn't sound ridiculous at all."
Gabriel stared at their joined hands like he couldn't quite believe she was touching him.
"You have this way of making everything feel less dark," he said, so softly she almost didn't hear him. "Like you're sunlight breaking through. And when I'm with you, I feel like... like maybe I'm not just a monster waiting to hurt someone. Like maybe I could be someone worthy of..." He trailed off.
"Worthy of what?"
"Of you."
Enid's heart felt like it might burst. "Gabriel, you are worthy of me. You've always been worthy."
"I'm dangerous—"
"You're gentle."
"I push people away—"
"You let me in."
"I'm terrified I'll hurt you—"
"You won't." Enid squeezed his hand. "Gabriel, you showed me the scariest part of yourself and you didn't hurt me. You've been nothing but careful and kind and good. When are you going to start believing that?"
Gabriel's eyes were suspiciously bright. "I'm trying."
"I know." Enid smiled, feeling tears prick at her own eyes. "And I'm going to keep reminding you until you do. That's what—" She paused. What were they? Friends? It felt like more than that now, after that song, after this moment. "That's what people who care about each other do."
"People who care about each other," Gabriel repeated, and there was something weighted in his tone. Like he wanted to say something else but couldn't quite get the words out.
They sat there in the golden afternoon light, hands intertwined, surrounded by the lingering echoes of the song.
"Will you play it again?" Enid asked. "Sometime?"
"If you want me to."
"I do. I really, really do." Enid leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling him tense for just a moment before relaxing. "Thank you for sharing that with me."
"Thank you for listening."
They stayed like that for a while, the Folklore project completely forgotten. Outside, the sun continued its slow descent, painting the music room in shades of amber and gold.
It felt, Enid thought, exactly like the song. Like time had stopped, just for them. Like this moment could last forever.
"Enid?" Gabriel said eventually.
"Yeah?"
"I'm really glad you're in my life."
Enid smiled against his shoulder. "I'm really glad I'm in your life too."
When they finally went back to their project, something had shifted between them. The air felt charged, full of things unsaid but deeply understood. Gabriel's hand would brush hers when reaching for a book. Enid would catch him looking at her with an expression that made her heart race.
Neither of them acknowledged it directly, but they both felt it.
The golden hour, stretching on.
Gabriel's POV - That Evening
Gabriel walked Enid back to Ophelia Hall after they finished their project session, his mind still echoing with the memory of her expression while he sang. The way she'd looked at him like he'd given her something precious.
"Thanks for finding the music room," Enid said when they reached her dorm. "It was perfect. Way better than the library."
"We can go back whenever you want. If we need a quiet place to work."
"Or if I want to hear you play again."
Gabriel felt heat creep up his neck. "That too."
Enid smiled—that bright, warm smile that always made his chest feel tight. "Goodnight, Gabriel."
"Goodnight."
He watched her disappear into the building before pulling out his phone.
Xavier: dude where have you been
Xavier: you missed dinner
Ajax: we saved you food though
Gabriel: I was working on the Folklore project with Enid. Lost track of time.
Xavier: "working on the project" sure
Xavier: is that what we're calling it now
Gabriel: We were actually working, Xavier.
Ajax: but did anything HAPPEN
Gabriel hesitated. How did he explain what had happened without it sounding either insignificant or way too significant?
Gabriel: I played piano for her.
Xavier: YOU WHAT
Ajax: GABRIEL
Xavier: you never play for people
Xavier: like literally never
Xavier: you wouldn't even play for us
Ajax: what did you play???
Gabriel: Just a song.
Xavier: WHAT SONG
Gabriel: Golden Hour.
There was a long pause. Then:
Xavier: oh my god
Xavier: GABRIEL
Xavier: that's basically a love confession
Ajax: did you SING???
Gabriel: ...yes
Xavier: I CANT BELIEVE YOU
Xavier: YOU SANG HER A LOVE SONG
Xavier: WHAT DID SHE SAY
Gabriel: She said it was beautiful. She asked me to play it again sometime.
Ajax: and then what happened?
Gabriel: We held hands. She leaned against my shoulder. We went back to working on our project.
Xavier: you're killing me
Xavier: you sang her a love song and all you did was hold hands???
Gabriel: What was I supposed to do?
Xavier: TELL HER YOU HAVE FEELINGS FOR HER
Ajax: maybe he's taking it slow?
Xavier: slow is one thing. glacial is another.
Gabriel: I'm not going to rush this. What we have right now is good. I don't want to risk ruining it.
Xavier: but what if it could be BETTER
Xavier: what if she feels the same way and you're both just dancing around it
Ajax: xavier has a point
Ajax: the song was pretty much a confession. if she didn't run away screaming, that's probably a good sign
Gabriel: Or she's just being nice because we're friends.
Xavier: friends don't look at each other the way you two do
Xavier: I've seen you together. everyone has. it's PAINFUL how obvious it is
Gabriel: I need to be sure.
Xavier: you're never going to be 100% sure. that's not how feelings work.
Ajax: but maybe pay attention to how she responds? if she's asking you to play again, if she's holding your hand, if she's leaning on you... those are signs
Gabriel: Maybe.
Xavier: not maybe. DEFINITELY.
Xavier: I'm calling it now. you two are going to be together by the end of the month.
Gabriel: We'll see.
Xavier: so cryptic. so brooding. so ANNOYING.
Ajax: leave him alone xavier. he's processing.
Xavier: fine. but gabriel?
Gabriel: What?
Xavier: I'm really glad you played for her. that took guts.
Ajax: yeah. we're proud of you.
Gabriel stared at his phone, feeling something warm in his chest.
Gabriel: Thanks guys.
Xavier: now go to bed and dream about your future girlfriend
Gabriel: Goodnight Xavier.
Xavier: FUTURE GIRLFRIEND
But Gabriel was smiling as he put his phone away.
Maybe Xavier was right. Maybe the song had been a confession. Maybe Enid's response meant something more than just friendship.
Maybe golden hours were just the beginning.
Enid's POV - Same Evening
Enid floated into her dorm room to find Yoko doing homework on her bed.
"You're late," Yoko observed. "And you're glowing. What happened?"
"Gabriel played piano for me."
Yoko's head snapped up. "He what?"
"We were working in the music room because the library was packed, and I asked him to play, and he did, and Yoko—" Enid flopped onto her bed. "He sang."
"He sang? Gabriel 'I barely talk to anyone' Blackwood sang for you?"
"He played this song, Golden Hour, and it was about finding someone who makes everything feel right and golden and perfect, and he was singing it TO me, Yoko. Like, directly at me. Well, he had his eyes closed most of the time, but the intention was clear."
"Oh my god." Yoko set aside her homework. "Enid, that's basically a confession."
"I know!"
"What did you do?"
"I held his hand. I told him he was beautiful—that the song was beautiful. I leaned against him." Enid covered her face. "I should have said more. I should have told him I feel the same way."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because what if I'm reading too much into it? What if he just wanted to show me his musical skills? What if—"
"Enid." Yoko's voice was firm. "Boys do not learn romantic songs and sing them to girls they're not interested in. That's not a thing that happens."
"But he didn't actually say anything—"
"He said it with music. Which for someone like Gabriel is probably more honest than words." Yoko moved to sit next to Enid. "How did he look at you after?"
"Like... like I was important. Like the moment mattered."
"Because it did matter. And you matter to him. Enid, when are you going to accept that Gabriel Blackwood is completely gone for you?"
"When he actually tells me in words."
"Some people show love better than they speak it. And he just showed you." Yoko poked her shoulder. "The question is: what are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know. Wait for him to say something more direct?"
"Or you could say something first."
Enid sat up. "What if he's not ready? What if I push too hard and he pulls away?"
"What if you don't push at all and you both stay stuck in this 'are we or aren't we' limbo forever?"
Enid groaned. "Why is this so complicated?"
"Because you both actually care about the outcome. If you didn't care, it would be easy."
Enid's phone buzzed.
Gabriel: Thank you for listening today. It meant more than I can say.
Her heart did a little flip.
Enid: thank you for sharing. it was perfect.
Gabriel: I'd play for you again anytime.
Enid: I'll hold you to that
Gabriel: I hope you do.
Enid stared at that last message. I hope you do. Was that flirting? That felt like flirting.
Enid: sleep well, gabriel
Gabriel: You too, Enid. Sweet dreams.
She showed the messages to Yoko, who read them and gave her a look.
"That boy is pining," Yoko declared. "He's basically writing you poetry via text."
"You think so?"
"I know so. And you're pining right back." Yoko stood and stretched. "My advice? Next time you two have a moment like today, be brave. Tell him how you feel. The worst that happens is he's not ready yet, and you stay friends. The best that happens is you get to be with someone who clearly adores you."
"When did you become a relationship expert?"
"I'm a vampire. We invented romance. Also I've been watching you two dance around each other for weeks and it's been exhausting."
Enid laughed despite herself. "Okay. Next time. I'll be brave."
"That's my girl."
As Enid got ready for bed, she kept thinking about the music room. About Gabriel's voice filling the space with warmth and hope. About the way he'd looked at her when she took his hand.
About golden hours and the promise of more to come.
She fell asleep with a smile on her face, and dreamed of piano music and afternoon light and a boy who was learning to let her in.
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I LIKE ME BETTER
Enid's POV - Saturday Afternoon
Enid had not expected to run into Gabriel Blackwood in the Jericho pharmacy.
She'd come to town to pick up her art supplies—a new sketchbook, some colorful gel pens, washi tape—and had decided to stop by the pharmacy for shampoo. Normal, boring Saturday errands.
And there was Gabriel, standing in the vitamin aisle, staring at a bottle of high-end athletic supplements with intense concentration.
"Gabriel?"
He looked up, and his expression shifted from surprise to something that looked almost like relief. "Enid. Hi."
"Hi yourself. What are you doing here?"
"Picking up a special order." He held up a bottle of something with a long, unpronounceable German name. "High-grade protein powder. Stefan says it tastes like chalk, but it works." He placed it in his otherwise empty basket. "You?"
"Art supplies. And I needed shampoo." She gestured to her own basket. "Very exciting Saturday plans."
"The most exciting."
They stood there for a moment, and Enid felt that familiar flutter in her chest. Three days since the music room. Three days since Golden Hour. Three days of charged glances and almost-conversations and neither of them being brave enough to actually talk about what was happening between them.
"Well," Enid said, "I should let you get back to your... protein chalk."
"Do you want company?" Gabriel asked suddenly. "I mean, I'm done here. I could walk with you? If you want."
Enid's heart did a little flip. "Yeah. Yes. That would be nice."
They fell into step together, leaving the pharmacy and heading toward the general store. It should have felt awkward—grocery shopping wasn't exactly a romantic activity—but somehow it felt natural. Easy.
"What else do you need?" Gabriel asked.
"Mostly food stuff. Yoko ate all my granola bars again. She claims vampires need snacks too." Enid pulled out her phone to check her list. "Also coffee, because the commissary coffee is basically brown water."
"Facts," Gabriel muttered. "It's an insult to the bean."
"An insult to the... bean?"
"My father is... particular about coffee. Some of it rubbed off."
They entered the general store, and Enid grabbed a shopping basket. The place was busy with weekend shoppers—normal people doing normal things. A mom with two kids arguing over cereal. An elderly couple debating pasta sauce. A teenager restocking shelves while listening to music on his headphones.
"Okay, snacks first," Enid declared, heading toward the appropriate aisle.
Gabriel followed, and there was something almost domestic about it. Like they'd done this a hundred times before. Enid would point at something, Gabriel would offer an opinion (usually dry and sarcastic), and they'd move on.
"These are on sale," Enid said, reaching for a box of granola bars.
"They also taste like cardboard," Gabriel noted, reading the ingredients. "Try these. They're more expensive, but they have actual oats in them."
"You're a snack snob, too?"
"I just like things that taste good."
They got to the coffee aisle, and Enid reached for the standard commissary-brand tub. Gabriel physically blocked her hand.
"Enid, no."
"What? It's cheap!"
"It's also the dirt-water you were just complaining about." He plucked a smaller, more expensive bag of single-origin beans from the top shelf. "This one. Trust me."
"Gabriel, that's like, twenty dollars for a tiny bag."
"It's worth it. I'll make you a cup with my French press. It will change your life."
"You're such a snob," she laughed.
"I'm discerning," he corrected, placing the bag in her basket.
At the register, as Enid started unloading her items, Gabriel put his hand on the basket. "I can get these."
"Gabriel, no! I can pay for my own granola bars and snobby coffee."
"I know you can. I'm offering anyway."
"And I'm declining. But thanks." She smiled at him, and the way he almost-smiled back made her chest feel warm.
He insisted on carrying her bags anyway, which she did let him do.
They walked down Jericho's main street, neither in a hurry to get back to Nevermore. The afternoon sun was starting to slant golden through the buildings, and the small town had that sleepy weekend quality.
"Want to get coffee?" Enid asked. "Like, actual good coffee? The Weathervane should still be open."
"Sure."
But as they walked past the music store—Strings & Things, according to the painted sign—Enid spotted the guitars in the window and had an idea.
"Wait," she said, stopping. "Have you ever been in here?"
Gabriel looked at the shop with mild interest. "Once or twice. Why?"
"Do you need new guitar strings? You said you play guitar."
"I have strings."
"But do you have backup strings?"
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Enid, what are you planning?"
"Nothing! I just want to look around. Come on." She was already pushing the door open, the little bell above it chiming.
The shop was small and cluttered in a cozy way. Guitars lined the walls—acoustic, electric, bass. There were keyboards, drum sets, amplifiers, and shelves of music books and accessories. An older man with a gray beard sat behind the counter, reading a magazine.
"Afternoon," he said pleasantly. "Let me know if you need help finding anything."
"Thanks!" Enid said brightly.
She wandered through the shop, pretending to browse, while Gabriel followed with an expression that suggested he knew exactly what she was doing.
"Enid."
"What?"
"Why are we really here?"
"I told you, I wanted to look around." She stopped in front of an acoustic guitar on a stand. There was a small sign: TRY ME. "Oh, look. They want people to play them."
"Enid—"
"You should play something."
"We're in public."
"So? That's kind of the point." She picked up the guitar and held it out to him. "Please? I loved hearing you play the other day. And this time I want to see you play guitar, not piano."
Gabriel looked at the guitar like it might bite him. "There are people here."
"Like four people. And they're all shopping. They won't care." Enid pushed the guitar closer. "Come on. One song. For me?"
Gabriel sighed, but he took the guitar. "You're impossible."
"I've been told." Enid gestured to a small stool nearby. "Sit. Perform. Serenade the music shop."
"I don't serenade."
"You literally serenaded me on Thursday."
"That was different."
"How?"
"That was..." Gabriel sat down on the stool, adjusting the guitar in his lap. "Private."
"This is semi-private. The shop owner is reading a magazine. Those people are looking at drum sets. No one's paying attention." Enid sat on the floor in front of him, cross-legged. "Play."
Gabriel tested a few chords, tuning one string slightly. Then he looked at her with an expression that was half-resignation, half-fondness.
"One song," he said.
"One song."
He started playing, a bright, upbeat chord progression that Enid immediately recognized. It wasn't Golden Hour. This was lighter, happier.
And then he started singing, his voice quieter than it had been in the music room, more conscious of the public space. But it was still that same raw, honest quality that made Enid's heart skip.
"To be young and in love in New York City," he sang, his eyes fixed on the guitar's fretboard. "To not know who I am but still know that I'm good long as you're here with me..."
The shop owner glanced up from his magazine, a small smile playing on his lips.
Gabriel's fingers moved confidently across the strings. This was clearly his instrument. He was more comfortable here than he had been on the piano. He took a small breath and continued into the pre-chorus.
"Maybe I'm a mess, maybe I'm crazy, all I know is you're the only one who saves me."
He looked up at her then, his gaze direct and unflinching as he hit the chorus.
"I like me better when I'm with you... I like me better when I'm with you..."
Enid's breath caught. Oh. Unlike Golden Hour, which was poetic and sweeping, this was simple. Direct. A plain-spoken confession.
"I knew from the first time, I'd stay for a long time 'cause... I like me better when... I'm with you."
Gabriel held her gaze, and there was a vulnerability in his eyes, like he was admitting something he hadn't quite put into words before.
The teenager stocking shelves had stopped to listen. The elderly couple browsing near the violins had turned to watch.
Gabriel's voice gained a little confidence, a small, almost-smile on his face as he sang the second verse, still looking at her.
"I don't know what it is but I got that feeling... Waking up in this bed next to you, swear the room... Yeah, it got no ceiling."
Enid felt her eyes getting misty. This boy—this careful, guarded boy who kept everyone at arm's length—was playing guitar in a public music shop because she'd asked. He was singing a song about liking himself better when he was with her. He was looking at her like she was the only person in the room.
His voice went softer for the bridge, more intimate despite the setting. The shop had gone completely quiet except for the music.
"Stay awhile, stay awhile... Stay here with me... Stay awhile, stay awhile, oh..."
His eyes never left Enid's face. She could see the slight flush on his cheeks, the way his jaw was tight with nerves, but he didn't stop. He didn't look away.
"I like me better when I'm with you!" he sang, his voice stronger, more convicted, hitting the final chorus. "I like me better when I'm with you... I knew from the first time, I'd stay for a long time 'cause... I like me better when... I'm with you."
When he sang the final line, Enid realized she was crying. Just a little. Just enough that she had to wipe her eyes.
Because she got it. She understood what he was saying. Gabriel, who saw himself as a monster, who isolated himself to keep others safe, who had spent years believing he was better off alone—he liked himself better when he was with her. She made him feel like he could be more than his worst fears.
He played the final, gentle notes of the outro. "Better when... I like me better when I'm with you."
The last chord rang out in the quiet shop. Gabriel carefully set the guitar back on its stand, his expression equal parts embarrassed and hopeful.
The shop owner started clapping.
"Beautiful!" the old man said. "Son, you've got real talent. And young lady, you're a lucky girl."
The elderly couple joined in the applause. The teenager gave an approving nod.
Enid couldn't speak. Her throat was too tight.
Gabriel stood quickly, his face red. "We should probably—"
Enid launched herself at him.
She wrapped her arms around him in a hug that probably looked desperate, burying her face in his shoulder. Gabriel froze for half a second, then his arms came around her, holding her close.
"Thank you," Enid whispered into his shirt. "Thank you for playing. Thank you for singing. Thank you for—" Her voice broke. "Thank you."
"Enid, you're crying."
"I'm not crying. You're crying."
"You're definitely crying."
"Okay, maybe a little." She pulled back just enough to look at him. His face was still flushed, but he was smiling. Really smiling. "That was perfect. You're perfect. The song was perfect. Everything is perfect."
"I'm not—"
"Yes, you are." Enid grabbed his hand, not caring that they had an audience. "Gabriel, do you really... do you really like yourself better when you're with me?"
Gabriel's expression went serious. Soft. "Yes. I do. I feel like... like I'm not just the monster. Like I'm also just Gabriel. A person. Someone who could maybe deserve—" He stopped, seeming to catch himself.
"Deserve what?"
He looked at their joined hands. "Someone like you."
The shop owner cleared his throat. "I don't mean to interrupt this lovely moment, but can I interest you kids in anything? That guitar seems to like you, son. It's on sale."
Gabriel blinked, pulled from the moment. "Oh. I... I don't need—"
"How much?" Enid asked.
"Enid, no—"
"How much for the guitar?"
The shop owner smiled like he knew exactly what he was witnessing. "For you two? Let's call it a hundred fifty. Comes with a case and an extra set of strings."
"Sold." Enid pulled out her wallet.
"Enid, I can buy the guitar. You don't have to do that."
"Consider it payment for the free concerts." She was already counting out bills. "You can pay me back by playing for me whenever I want."
"That's not a fair trade—"
"Life's not fair." She handed the money to the shop owner. "We'll take it."
Twenty minutes later, they were walking out of the shop with Gabriel carrying a guitar case in addition to their shopping bags. He looked bewildered.
"I can't believe you just bought me a guitar."
"I can't believe you just sang to me in public." Enid bumped his shoulder with hers. "We're even."
"We're not even remotely even."
"Fine. Then you owe me. And I'm collecting payment in songs."
Gabriel shook his head, but he was smiling. That real, genuine smile that Enid had only seen a handful of times.
They walked in comfortable silence for a bit, heading back toward Nevermore. The sun was lower now, casting everything in that golden light that seemed to follow them lately.
"Gabriel?" Enid said eventually.
"Yeah?"
"I like me better when I'm with you too."
Gabriel stopped walking. Turned to look at her fully. "Really?"
"Really. You make me feel... braver. Like I can say what I actually think instead of what I think people want to hear. Like I don't have to be 'sunny Enid' all the time. I can just be... me." She squeezed his hand. "And you like that person. The real one. Not the performance."
"I love that person," Gabriel said, then immediately looked like he wanted to take it back. "I mean—I meant—"
"Gabriel." Enid stepped closer. "We keep doing this. Dancing around it. Saying almost-things. Singing songs that say what we won't say out loud."
"I know."
"So why don't we just... say it?"
"Because I'm terrified," Gabriel admitted. "Because what if I'm reading this wrong? What if you don't feel—"
"I do," Enid interrupted. "Whatever you're about to say, I do. I feel it too."
They were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, shopping bags and guitar case between them, having what was possibly the most important conversation of Enid's life.
"I don't want to ruin what we have," Gabriel said quietly.
"What if you could make it better?"
"What if I make it worse?"
"You won't." Enid took a breath. "Gabriel, I'm not asking you to have all the answers right now. I'm not asking you to be perfect or brave or anything other than honest. Just... think about it. Okay? Think about what you want. What we could be. And when you're ready to talk about it, really talk about it, I'll be here."
Gabriel nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll think about it."
"Good."
They resumed walking, still holding hands. Neither of them mentioned it. Neither of them let go.
When they reached the point where they'd have to split up—Gabriel to his dorm, Enid to Ophelia Hall—they lingered.
"Thank you for shopping with me," Enid said. "Even though we didn't plan it."
"Thank you for making me play in the music shop. Even though I was terrified."
"You didn't look terrified."
"I was. But..." Gabriel adjusted the guitar case on his shoulder. "You make the terrifying things feel possible."
"Is that from another song?"
"No. That's just true."
Enid stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, quick and impulsive. Gabriel's eyes widened.
"Goodnight, Gabriel," she said, already backing away before she could lose her nerve. "Enjoy your new guitar!"
She hurried toward Ophelia Hall, her heart pounding, not looking back. But she could feel him watching her go.
When she finally glanced over her shoulder, he was still standing there, one hand touching his cheek where she'd kissed him, looking completely stunned.
Enid grinned the entire way back to her room.
Gabriel's POV - That Evening
"Is that a new guitar?" Stefan asked when Gabriel entered their dorm.
"Enid bought it for me."
"She—what?"
Gabriel set down the shopping bags and the guitar case, then sat on his bed. "She made me play in a music shop in Jericho. In front of people. And then she bought me the guitar."
Stefan pulled off his beanie to scratch his head, careful to keep his eyes averted. "That's... that's actually really sweet?"
"I sang to her. Again. A different song."
"Okay, you need to start from the beginning because I'm lost."
So Gabriel told him. About running into Enid. About shopping together ("She almost bought the dirt-water coffee, I had to intervene"). About the music shop and the song and Enid crying and the hug and the conversation after.
"And then she kissed my cheek and ran away," Gabriel finished.
Stefan was quiet for a moment. Then: "Gabriel, you know you're basically dating her, right?"
"We're not dating."
"You're holding hands. She's buying you guitars. You're singing love songs to her in public. You're having deep conversations about feelings. That's dating. You just haven't made it official."
"But what if—"
"No." Stefan held up a hand. "No more 'what ifs.' Dude, she literally told you she feels the same way. She told you to think about what you want. She's giving you an opening. A big, obvious opening. What more do you need?"
Gabriel pulled the guitar case onto his bed and opened it. The instrument was beautiful—dark wood, perfect action, clearly well-made despite the sale price.
"I need to be sure I won't hurt her," Gabriel said quietly.
"You won't. You're like, the most careful person I know. You check your phone fourteen times before sending a text. You calculate the risk of every decision. You're not going to accidentally hurt her." Stefan's voice gentled. "But Gabriel? You might hurt her by not taking the chance. By making her think you don't care enough to try."
That thought made Gabriel's chest ache. "I do care. More than I've cared about anything."
"Then tell her that. Use your words. Stop hiding behind songs—though, for the record, the songs are very effective—and actually have the conversation."
Gabriel ran his fingers along the guitar strings. "What if I mess it up?"
"Then you mess it up. But at least you tried. And honestly? I don't think you will mess it up. I think you'll probably be disgustingly cute together, and Xavier and Ajax will never let you live it down."
Despite everything, Gabriel smiled. "They definitely won't."
His phone buzzed.
Enid: did you get back okay?
Enid: sorry i ran off like that
Enid: i got nervous
Gabriel: I got back fine. Don't apologize.
Enid: okay good
Enid: also i hope you like the guitar
Enid: i know you said you didn't need one but you looked so happy playing and i wanted you to have it
Gabriel: It's perfect. Thank you. Though you really didn't have to do that.
Enid: i wanted to
Enid: you deserve nice things gabriel
Gabriel: So do you.
Enid: then we're both lucky 😊
Gabriel stared at that emoji. At her messages. At the evidence of someone who genuinely cared about him.
Gabriel: Enid, about what you said earlier. About thinking about what I want.
The three dots appeared immediately.
Enid: yeah?
Gabriel: I don't need to think about it. I know what I want.
Enid: what do you want?
Gabriel's fingers hovered over the keyboard. This was it. The moment. He could play it safe or he could be honest.
He thought about her crying in the music shop. About her hand in his. About her smile when she'd kissed his cheek. About how he felt like a better version of himself when she was around.
Gabriel: You. I want you. I want us to be more than friends who hold hands and sing to each other. I want to actually call you mine. If you'll have me.
The three dots appeared and disappeared several times. Gabriel's heart was pounding so hard he could hear it.
Finally:
Enid: YES
Enid: YES YES YES
Enid: gabriel blackwood i will absolutely have you
Enid: i've been waiting for you to ask!!!
Enid: or for me to ask but i was scared too
Gabriel: So we're doing this? Officially?
Enid: OFFICIALLY
Enid: you're my boyfriend
Enid: i'm your girlfriend
Enid: we're TOGETHER
Gabriel: We're together.
Enid: IM SO HAPPY I COULD SCREAM
Enid: actually i am screaming
Enid: yoko just asked if im okay
Enid: i showed her our texts
Enid: she says "FINALLY" and "about time" and "she's proud of both of us"
Gabriel was grinning at his phone like an idiot.
Xavier: AJAX JUST TOLD ME
Xavier: CONGRATULATIONS
Xavier: I KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN
Xavier: I WON THE BET
Gabriel: There was a bet?
Xavier: obviously there was a bet
Xavier: i said you'd get together by end of month
Xavier: ajax said next month
Xavier: I WIN
Ajax: congrats gabriel! we're happy for you
Ajax: also yes xavier won but only by like a week so
Xavier: A WIN IS A WIN
Gabriel: I can't believe you bet on my relationship.
Xavier: i can't believe you FINALLY asked her out
Xavier: or she asked you?
Xavier: who asked who?
Gabriel: We asked each other. Sort of.
XSavier: adorable
Xavier: disgusting
Xavier: but adorable
Gabriel: Thanks guys.
Ajax: you deserve this gabriel
Ajax: you deserve to be happy
Xavier: what ajax said
Xavier: now go text your GIRLFRIEND
Gabriel switched back to his conversation with Enid.
Enid: so when's our first official date?
Gabriel: When do you want it to be?
Enid: tomorrow?
Enid: too soon?
Gabriel: Tomorrow is perfect. Same time we went to Jericho?
Enid: its a date 💕
Enid: literally!
Gabriel: Literally.
Enid: i'm so happy i could cry again
Gabriel: Please don't cry. Happy crying is somehow worse than sad crying.
Enid: no promises!
Enid: goodnight gabriel
Enid: my BOYFRIEND
Gabriel: Goodnight Enid. My girlfriend.
Enid: 💕💕💕
Gabriel set his phone down and looked at Stefan, who was grinning.
"You did it," Stefan said.
"I did it."
"How do you feel?"
Gabriel thought about it. About the terrifying leap he'd just taken. About Enid's enthusiastic yes. About tomorrow and the day after and all the days that would come.
"Like I like myself better," Gabriel said. "When I'm with her. And now I actually get to be with her."
"That's disgustingly sweet."
"I know."
"I'm happy for you, man."
"Thanks, Stefan."
Gabriel picked up the new guitar again, running through a few chords. Already thinking about what song he'd play for Enid next. What he'd say on their first real date. How it would feel to hold her hand and actually call her his girlfriend out loud.
For someone who'd spent years convinced he was better off alone, this felt surprisingly right.
Actually, it felt perfect.
Like a golden hour that didn't have to end.