"You know, you didn’t have to do this for ." Natalie Avax told Dion.
They were lying on her outrageously huge bed, facing each other. Dion was propped slightly on one elbow, their faces close enough that she could stare into his beautiful black eyes.
"I know," he replied. "But I wanted to."
Natalie shouldn’t even be back on campus yet. Everyone knew that. The doctors had insisted she rest, and supervision. But the hospital had felt unbearably empty and her father—busy, distant, and brilliant as always—hadn’t been there.
So she ca back — or more precisely to spend ti with her new love interest, Dion.
He’d brought her als, and checked her vitals over and over again. It was beginning to get annoying. But Natalie knew he was only worried about her. He kept her company and made her feel less miserable — especially after being in the spotlight in a not so positive way.
Her father David Avax hadn’t objected to her move. He wouldn’t even dare. And with the lockdown in place, Lunaris had beco the safest place she could be, warded and sealed tight. Not that the lockdown would stop him from reaching her if he truly wanted to—but Natalie knew this was his way of giving her space.
"I didn’t just do it for you," Dion said to her, "Nicole’s been getting on my nerves for years. I rely took advantage of the mont to encourage her retirent."
"Well, look at you," Natalie teased him. "Micah would be so proud of you."
Dion sighed. "I don’t know about that." He had been operating without orders and he didn’t know how his boss, the original Oracle, would feel about that.
Natalie reached for her phone and tilted it between them. "Well, if it makes you happy, you should see the comnts."
She cleared her throat dramatically and began to read.
"’Nicole thought she was the Oracle but ended up being a background zombie.’
Dion snorted in laughter.
"Oh, this one’s good," Natalie continued, her voice warming with amusent. "’Forget the apocalypse, the real infection was bad journalism.’"
She laughed then, a real laugh, bright and rich laughter that filled the room. Dion watched her closely, satisfied by the happiness on her face.
"Zombie holiday seems to be a hit," she added, scrolling. "’Ten out of ten, would survive the lockdown again.’"
Natalie laughed so hard she had to set the phone aside, wiping at the corner of her eyes. "I shouldn’t laugh this much. It probably hurts my ribs."
"After what you’ve been through, I think you have every right to happiness right now, Natalie." Dion breathed, tugging her hair away from her face.
Natalie was speechless. She stared at him for a long ti, then whispered, "Thank you," she ant more than the article this ti.
"You’re welco."
Silence settled between them, not awkward, just charged. For days now, Dion had been coming in and out of her room.
People had talked. Of course they had. Lunaris thrived on whispers after all. But Natalie didn’t care.
She didn’t know what they were yet. There was a small, nagging fear that she might be leaning on him too much, that the grief and shock had blurred lines. or that Dion might be drawn to her because of her na. But Natalie refused to let fear steal the one thing she’d found that felt real.
She leaned forward first, slowly, giving him ti to pull away if he wanted.
He didn’t.
Her lips brushed his in a light, careful kiss. Just enough to test the mont. Dion closed his eyes, breathing her in, and savoring it like sothing fragile.
But It wasn’t enough.
Natalie moved closer, erasing the space between them. She fisted her hand in the fabric of his shirt as she kissed him again, this ti, deeper. A soft sound escaped her, as her other fingers threaded into his hair, tugging him closer.
Dion responded, but carefully, hands steady, mindful of every breath she took.
When Natalie tried to shift over him, her body protesting, and she hissed in pain.
Dion pulled back instantly. "Hey—no. Don’t do that."
She scowled. "This is stupid."
"No," he said softly, brushing her hair back. "You’re healing and that is what matters. No need to rush things, Natalie. We’ve got ti. All the ti in the world."
She stared at him, annoyed, and then sighed, the fight draining out of her. "You’re annoyingly reasonable."
"I’ve been told," he said with a small smile.
He shifted, carefully drawing her against him, one arm secure around her shoulders. Natalie settled in, her head resting against his chest as they cuddled.
They lay there in silence which didn’t last because Dion’s phone rang suddenly.
He groaned softly and reached for it, squinting at the screen as he read the ssage and his expression changed.
Natalie caught it. "What is it?" she asked, lifting her head from the pillow.
Dion exhaled. "Well. Speak of the devil." He looked at her. "It’s Micah. He and Adele are coming back."
Natalie swallowed.
She’d known this mont would co, but that didn’t make it easier. Micah had called her throughout everything and though his voice had been calm and reassuring, she also knew Micah was good at hiding his emotions.
"Well," Natalie said, trying to lighten the mood, "Lunaris won’t be boring anyti soon."
Dion breathed. "That’s one way to put it."
---
Much later that night, two figures stood before the towering gates of Lunaris Academy.
Layla tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Do you feel that?"
Laura reached out instinctively, fingers brushing the air—
Zap.
"Ouch!" She yanked her hand back, scowling. "Since when does the school have a ward?"
"Since now," Layla replied calmly, stepping closer. The barrier shimred faintly, a bluish glow rippling beneath the surface. She humd, impressed. "Whoever cast this knew what they were doing. Clean work."
Laura rubbed her fingers. "But we can do better. Right?"
Layla’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk.
"Oh, hell," she said softly. "We absolutely can."
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