Lyra — Home
Lyra liked mornings at her aunt's house.
They were loud in a comforting way—pots clanging,voices overlapping,her cousin arguing with the radio.She sat at the small dining table,spooning cereal absentmindedly,half-listening as her aunt talked about work and rising food prices.
"You're smiling," her aunt noted suddenly.
Lyra blinked. "Am I?"
"Yes," her aunt said, narrowing her eyes playfully. "That usually means there's a boy."
Lyra nearly choked on her cereal. "There is not."
Her aunt laughed. "Relax. You don't have to tell me. Just… don't forget who you are when school starts making noise."
Lyra nodded, the words settling deeper than intended.
Later, alone in her room, she opened her notebook.
Dear Stranger,
Being home is strange. It reminds me that I existed before university, before you. I eat more here. Sleep better. And yet—my thoughts keep drifting back to campus. To the library. To the way you told me to be careful.
She hesitated, then wrote:
Did you mean it? Or was it just something you say to people you don't want getting too close?
She closed the notebook, heart thudding softly.
Kael —
The campus changed at night.
Kael stood on the roof of the science building, watching shadows stretch unnaturally across the courtyard below. The air felt thick—wrong. He could sense it the way one senses pressure before a storm.
"They're moving early," Julien said beside him.
Cassian crouched near the edge, eyes glowing faintly for a split second before he forced them back to normal. "Too close to human dorms for my liking."
Kael's jaw tightened. "I told the council this area was off-limits."
"They don't listen when you're distracted," Cassian said pointedly.
Kael didn't respond.
Below them, a figure slipped through the trees near the library—too fast, too silent. Kael's instincts flared.
"Handle it," he said coldly.
Julien nodded and vanished into the shadows.
Kael stayed where he was, fists clenched.
She's not here, he reminded himself. She's safe.
Still, the absence felt louder than the danger.
Lyra — Letter Returned
That evening, as Lyra helped her aunt wash dishes, her phone buzzed once.
A message. Unknown number.
You notice silence too well.
Her breath caught.
Later, locked in her room, she opened her notebook again.
Dear Lyra,
Distance doesn't dull your thoughts. It sharpens them. I meant what I said. Some worlds overlap too easily—and people get hurt standing in between.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she read the last line:
You are safer where you are. That matters to me more than you know.
She pressed the notebook to her chest, heart racing.
Kael — Side Girl
"You're distracted."
Kael didn't look up. "I'm busy."
She leaned against his desk anyway, arms crossed, eyes sharp and familiar. She had been in his life long enough to read the silences.
"She's gone," she said flatly. "And suddenly you're patrolling rooftops and ignoring everyone."
He finally looked at her. "Say what you want to say."
She held his gaze. "Do you have feelings for Lyra?"
The question hung heavy between them.
Kael didn't answer immediately.
"That hesitation?" she continued quietly. "That's new."
"She's human," he said at last.
"And I helped you survive when you were barely holding together," she shot back. "So don't pretend this is about categories."
He stood, voice low. "This isn't your concern."
She searched his face, something wounded flickering through her confidence. "It will be—if you let her matter."
For the first time, Kael didn't deny it.
Lyra —
Lyra lay awake long after the house had gone quiet.
She stared at the ceiling, notebook resting beside her pillow.
Dear Stranger,
You say I'm safer away. But you didn't say you wanted me gone. And that difference feels important.
She smiled faintly, then added:
Be careful too.
Miles away, under a sky thick with secrets, Kael Draven closed his eyes—feeling the pull of a human girl who was becoming far too dangerous to let go of.