Morning sunlight slipped gently through the thin curtains, scattering patterns across the walls of Elara’s room. The air carried a hush — the kind that lingers after a long storm.

Elara lay still for a while, eyes open, the weight of her thoughts pressing lightly but no longer painfully. She could still hear the echoes of yesterday — the hurried steps, the collision, the sharp tone of that boy’s voice… and then his.

Lucen’s calm, steady voice — the one that had cut through the noise like a hand reaching out in the dark.

It wasn’t just what he said, but how he said it.
Firm but kind. Protective without being possessive.
She had never known what it felt like to be safe until that moment.

She sat up slowly, the blanket slipping off her lap, and pressed a hand against her chest. The ache that had once lived there — of fear, of uncertainty — was still there, but softer now, like an old wound that had finally begun to heal.

All her life, she had been careful — building walls, avoiding anything that might hurt, convincing herself she didn’t need anyone to stand beside her.

But Lucen had never tried to break those walls. He simply stood outside them, patient and unassuming, until she started unlocking them herself.

Maybe that’s what real care looked like.
Not grand gestures or promises.
Just a quiet, consistent presence.

A small, almost disbelieving smile tugged at her lips.

Her decision had been forming all along, quietly weaving itself through her doubts and fears, waiting for her to notice.

Now, she did.

A soft knock came at her door.
“Elara?” her mother’s voice, gentle and warm.

Elara adjusted her dupatta and called softly, “Come in, Mama.”

Lyra entered with a small smile and her morning tea in hand. She looked as she always did — composed, graceful, but with a faint sparkle of curiosity in her eyes.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Lyra said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “But I thought we should talk… about everything that’s been happening.”

Elara nodded, her fingers brushing the edge of her sleeve.

“Selene called last night,” Lyra continued. “They’re waiting for your answer, but she said there’s no rush. Lucen’s family doesn’t want to pressure you.”

That name — Lucen — stirred something inside her. It didn’t sound strange anymore. It sounded like something that quietly belonged.

Her mother’s tone was soft, reassuring — unaware of how much had already changed inside her daughter.

Elara stayed quiet for a moment, then met her mother’s gaze.
“I’ve already decided,” she said, her voice calm but steady.

Lyra blinked, surprised. “You have?”

Elara nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Her eyes softened with memory as she continued. “I thought about everything… about him. I’m not sure what to call it. He’s… different. Not loud, not trying to impress anyone. Just—” she paused, searching for the word, “—steady. It’s strange, but when he’s around, everything feels less… heavy.”

Lyra smiled faintly. “That’s what peace feels like.”

Elara’s eyes rose in wonder. “Peace?”

Lyra’s face melted into a smile. ”Yes, peace, and that’s always the first thing you should look for.”

Elara exhaled, as if releasing a truth that had been waiting to be said.
“Yes. When he’s around, I don’t feel like I have to pretend to be stronger than I am.”

Lyra’s eyes shimmered, her hand instinctively reaching for Elara’s. “My heart always knew he was the right one.”

Elara smiled faintly, a little shy, but there was a quiet confidence behind it now.
“I think I know it too.”

Her mother squeezed her hand gently, relief washing over her face.
“Then I’ll call Selene,” she said, standing with a renewed lightness in her step. “She’ll be so happy to hear this.”

Elara nodded, her heart steady in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.

When Lyra left the room, her voice drifted faintly through the half-open door — soft, cheerful, talking to Selene.

Elara sat still, listening to the distant hum of her mother’s words, a small smile curling on her lips. The sunlight caught in her hair, turning it to soft gold.

She didn’t know what the future held, but for once, she wasn’t afraid to find out.

For the first time, peace felt like a promise — one she was ready to keep.

His POV;

The morning sun filtered softly through the pale curtains of Lucen’s room, touching the edges of his desk — where a half-open notebook lay beside a cold cup of tea.
He hadn’t really slept.

Every time he closed his eyes, the same scene replayed — that corridor, the sudden collision, and the look on her face.

He had seen Elara many times before — quiet, composed, always in control of herself even when the world seemed to blur around her.
But yesterday had been different.

For the first time, he’d seen her uncertain.
Not the usual calm Elara who could silence a room with her steady presence, but someone shaken — scared even.

He still remembered the way her hands trembled slightly when she tried to pick up her books, how she froze when that boy’s tone sharpened.
And the moment her eyes had met his — that small, wordless second — something had shifted inside him.

He hadn’t stepped forward out of impulse; it had been instinct.
He just couldn’t bear to see her afraid.

Now, sitting in the quiet of his room, he found himself wondering — what had she gone through to make fear such a familiar shadow in her eyes?
He’d seen a glimpse of her strength countless times — in the way she spoke when she had to, in how she carried herself through silence — but this vulnerability… it unsettled him.

His thoughts broke when he heard his mother’s voice from downstairs — bright, cheerful, and unmistakably excited.

He frowned slightly. It wasn’t unusual for Selene to chat early in the morning, but something about the tone — that lilt of joy, the quick rhythm of her words — caught his attention.

He leaned forward a little, listening.

“Yes, yes, of course!” Selene’s voice carried up the stairs. “Oh, Lyra, that’s wonderful news! You’ve made my day!”

Lucen’s pulse stilled for a second.
Lyra.

He stood, the chair scraping softly against the floor, and moved toward the landing. The murmur of conversation floated upward — his mother’s laughter, the sound of genuine happiness in her voice.

A small, nervous smile formed at the corner of his lips as the realisation began to take shape.
Could it be?

By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, Selene had ended the call and was still smiling, phone in hand.
She looked up at him — eyes gleaming like she could barely contain herself.

“Lucen,” she said, her tone brimming with joy. “You’ll never believe what Lyra just told me.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning calm but feeling his heart hammering against his ribs.
“What did she say?”

Selene’s smile grew even wider. “She said Elara’s agreed.”

For a heartbeat, he just stood there — the words hanging in the air like a soft echo he wasn’t ready to trust yet.

“She’s… agreed?” he repeated quietly, his voice almost uncertain, as if saying it aloud might break the illusion.

Selene nodded, her joy infectious. “Yes! Lyra said she made her decision this morning. They’re all so happy — and so am I. I knew it, Lucen.”

He exhaled slowly, a quiet laugh slipping through his disbelief.
He hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath until now.

Then, seeing the delighted sparkle in his mother’s eyes, he smirked faintly and said, “You seem… barely happy about it, Mother. Maybe you should calm down before the neighbours start suspecting we’ve won the lottery.”

Selene swatted lightly at his arm, laughing. “Don’t you dare mock my joy, young man! Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to actually show interest in someone other than your books?”

“Hmm,” he teased, pretending to think. “You make it sound like you’d have been equally happy if I’d brought home anyone.”

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “If it wasn’t Elara, I’d still be interviewing candidates with a magnifying glass.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “That sounds terrifying. Maybe I should thank Elara for saving me from that fate.”

Selene’s tone softened instantly. “Maybe you should,” she said, her smile warm now. “She’s special, Lucen. You picked well — or maybe fate picked for you.”

He fell quiet at that, a small, genuine smile replacing the teasing one.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “It does feel that way.”

He sat down slowly, his hands clasped, his heart finally finding rhythm again.

Selene, still talking excitedly about the next steps. Lucen couldn’t help but smile, but his mind wasn’t fully there — it was already drifting back to her.

Later, when the house had quieted again, Lucen stepped out onto the balcony. The breeze was cool, carrying the faint scent of rain-soaked jasmine. He leaned against the railing, closing his eyes for a moment.

He could almost see her — the way she’d looked in that green dress, or in the soft light of the café, or even in that corridor where everything had gone wrong and somehow right.

He wanted to tell her that it was all going to be fine. That she didn’t have to rush. That he’d wait — not out of obligation, but because he wanted her to feel safe in every step she took toward him.

For the first time in days, his heart was calm.
Not racing, not uncertain — just steady.

And somewhere across the city, maybe she felt that same quiet peace, too.