One of the undeniable perks of being a student at Beyonder’s Academy was access to the kind of medical care most people could only dream of. That night, we were rushed to a specialized hospital, a team of elite meta doctors were called specially as they worked tirelessly on Jade and me. Their meta-natures accelerated our recovery in ways that felt almost miraculous. Wounds sealed within minutes, fatigue ebbed like a distant memory, and the crushing weight of exhaustion lifted enough to breathe again—at least physically.


    The city, meanwhile, was ablaze with the news. Reports of the tunnel train attack spread like wildfire, flooding every channel and feed with speculation and outrage. The Sups had already mobilized, sweeping the tunnels to eliminate any remaining demon rats and scouring for survivors. But I knew the grim truth—they wouldn’t find many.


    Of the four hundred passengers on that train, only six of us had made it out alive.


    I could see the horror replaying in my mind as I tried to grasp the scale of what had happened.


    “This is insanity,” a nurse muttered under her breath as she passed, her tablet glowing with scrolling headlines. ‘Largest civilian-targeted attack of the year: Who’s responsible?’ blared across the screen.


    I caught her eye, and she hesitated. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.


    “Don’t be,” I replied, my voice flat. “Save it for someone else. We’re alive—that’s more than most can say.”


    “...”


    As the only survivors, we were whisked into secure hospital rooms, surrounded by layers of protection.


    I slept for two full days after the ordeal, my body healed but my mind too worn out to even consider waking up. When I finally did, groggy and disoriented, I opened my eyes to find my parents and Aunt Grace sitting beside me. Relief and warmth spread through me at the sight of their familiar faces. Despite the weight of the last few days, it felt surprisingly good to have them near. I was lucky; my relationship with them was solid—something not everyone could claim.


    “Finally awake, huh?” Aunt Grace’s sharp wit tinged with obvious worry.


    “Grace,” my mother scolded softly, though the corners of her mouth twitched into a brief smile. Her hand found mine, her grip firm but trembling. “We’ve been so worried, sweetheart.”


    “You’ve no idea,” my father added, his voice gruff but cracking at the edges. He ran a hand through his graying hair, his usual calm exterior cracked wide open. “When we saw the news—God, I thought—” He stopped himself, clearing his throat. “You’re okay. That’s all that matters.”


    “I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t mean to—”


    “Stop,” my mom cut in, her voice firm but gentle. “This isn’t your fault. Don’t even go there.”


    “Listen to your mother,” Aunt Grace said, her eyes narrowing. “For once.”


    I chuckled weakly, the sound surprising even me. “Thanks. You always know how to lighten the mood.”


    “That’s what I’m here for.” She winked, “But seriously, kid. Don’t scare us like that again."


    Then, after a pause, her brows knit together, and she tilted her head slightly. “Why didn’t you use your meta to notice something this big was coming?”


    To which I could only stare in silence blaming my stupidity and the past for giving me unforgettable trauma.


    Grace’s gaze lingered on me, her lips pursed as if she wanted to say more. Before she could, my mom’s hand found mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay,” she said softly, her tone calming but firm. Then she threw Grace a sharp side glance. “Don’t push him. You know how his meta is basically useless. He barely has any control over it.”


    Her words sent a flush of embarrassment up my neck. I shifted awkwardly in the bed, feeling exposed even though she was defending me. It wasn’t the first time she’d tried to shield me like this, but it didn’t sting any less.


    Mom rubbed my forehead. “You did everything you could,” she reassured again.


    I swallowed hard, forcing a small nod. She wasn’t wrong, not entirely. At this point in the first timeline, my meta was a mess. All I saw were confusing shapes and colors, fragments that I could barely interpret. More often than not, when I shared my so-called “insights,” they were just guesses, half-truths stitched together to avoid humiliation—or worse, being left out.


    They stayed for hours, their voices filled with a mix of relief and worry as we talked. I could see the lines of tension in their faces, hear the unspoken fear laced beneath their words. But they were here, and that meant everything.


    When they finally left, my mom kissed my forehead, whispering, “We’ll be back tomorrow, okay? Rest. Let them take care of you.”


    As the door clicked shut behind them, the quiet returned, leaving me alone with my thoughts.


    But the peace didn’t last long.


    A knock barely preceded the door swinging open, and suddenly my small hospital room was filled with investigator Sups and City Protectors, dressed in flashy uniforms. They moved in like a wave, notebooks in hand, devices glowing, their presence overwhelming in the confined room. Questions came at me rapid-fire, their words a blur at first until I forced myself to focus.


    “What triggered the attack?”


    “Did you see anything unusual before the swarm arrived?”


    “How did you manage to survive when almost no one else did?”


    Each question dragged me back into the bloodbath of the tunnel, forcing me to relive the sounds of screams, the littered dead bodies, the endless waves of bloody mutated rats. My answers came measured and deliberate, sparing no detail. I knew the importance of precision—they weren’t just collecting facts; they were building a narrative.


    One officer—a tall man with sharp eyes that missed nothing—finally addressed it head-on. “You’re from Beyonder’s Academy, right?”


    “Yes,” I said evenly, meeting his gaze. “First-year.”


    That earned a subtle shift in the room. Eyebrows rose, glances were exchanged. Students from the beyonders’ academy weren’t ordinary. Everyone knew that. Surviving an attack of this scale wasn’t just luck—it was expected of someone with our training and abilities.


    “You’re saying you six fought off thousands of these things?” another officer pressed, skepticism bleeding into his tone.


    “Yes,” I replied, my voice steady but cool. “We did what we had to do.”


    Still, I couldn’t deny the truth. Ninety percent of the credit for our survival belonged to Jade. Without her, we wouldn’t have lasted minutes. Unless someone had a meta-nature powerful enough to collapse the entire tunnel system—and somehow survive the fallout—there was no way we could have fought off the sheer numbers of those monstrous mutated rats. Ten thousand. That was the approximate number of demon rats Jade had wiped out in the chaos. Ten. Thousand. The thought was staggering. Her meta-nature wasn’t just powerful—it operated on a level that defied logic. Watching her in action, I realized just how much I didn’t understand about her true capabilities. Even now, the memory of her standing in the tunnel, her eyes shifting with impossible speed, sent a shiver through me. The rats had collapsed like dying stars, their existence snuffed out as though they’d never been born. The image stayed with me, vivid and unsettling.


    Another soft knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. It was getting tiring.


    I straightened in bed as the door creaked open, revealing a group of familiar faces. Alex stepped in first, his usual confidence was somewhat subdued, followed by Lore, Gina, Vinico, and Henry. They crowded into the small hospital room.


    “Look who’s alive and kicking,” Alex quipped, flashing me a grin as he leaned casually against the wall beside my bed.


    "Alex!” Lore scolded, giving him a sharp glare before turning to me with a softer expression. “Don’t mind him. How are you feeling? We heard about what happened… and, well, we had to come see for ourselves.”


    I offered a small smile, “I’m better now. Just tired, I guess. They’ve been keeping us under watch to see if everything was alright before the discharge.”


    Gina perched herself on the foot of my bed, “So, are they feeding you hospital mush, or do you actually get real food here? Because if it’s the first, I’ve sneaked in some snacks.”


    I laughed lightly, shaking my head. “It’s not that bad, better than I had expected. But I’ll gladly accept the snacks.”


    “You know you scared the crap out of all of us, right? When the news broke, there was chaos everywhere in the city. We couldn’t believe it when we found out it was you and Jade on that train.” Henry told, leaning against the wall.


    I glanced away, the memories replaying themselves again in my mind like a movie. "It felt like a bad dream," I said, "Swarms of those bloody mutated rats coming at us from every direction, relentless. Like a nightmare made real. If it weren’t for Jade… we wouldn’t have made it out."


    Lore shifted closer, her expression softening. "They’re not letting any outsiders see her," she said quietly. “Doctors said she’s in one of those special meta-human containments rooms, you know, the ones for… when things get out of hand.”


    I exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of my neck. “Doesn’t mean she’s not okay,” I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. “It’s just… a precaution.”


    In case something went wrong. The memory of her Likeness bleeding uncontrollably into reality before we were brought to the hospital was still fresh in my mind, thinking about it made me depressed and sad for pushing her like that.


    Lore hesitated. “Sure,” she said, but the way her brow furrowed told me she wasn’t fully convinced. “Still, people are talking. Weird things are happening around the hospital. Medical instruments breaking down for no reason, people tripping over nothing, stuff disappearing—one nurse swore her sandwich vanished from her hand mid-bite."


    She paused, her expression growing more serious. “And it’s not just inside the hospital. There’ve been accidents outside too—more than usual. Traffic lights failing, random car pileups, freak weather patterns, you name it. It’s gotten so bad that the Sups had to seal off the entire area and divert traffic to other hospitals. People are saying it’s cursed.”


    I blinked, “Cursed? That’s… dramatic.”


    Lore crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You tell me. Jade’s in the epicenter of all of this, and I’ve seen firsthand what her meta can do. "


    “It’s not her fault,” I cut in sharply, as if they were blaming her. How could they? “She’s not doing it on purpose. She’s still recovering."


    Lore raised a brow. “I didn’t say it was her fault."


    “You know,” Gina said, tapping her chin as if in deep thought, “maybe the nurse’s sandwich just… gave up. Hospital food’ll do that to you.”


    Henry snorted from her spot by the window.


    However, various rumors indeed had begun to circulate among the doctors and nurses or every patient. Yet amidst the growing sense of unease, there were also murmurs of miraculous occurrences.


    “We also heard the other side of it,” Lore continued. “Patients near Jade’s room are practically walking miracles. Chronic conditions suddenly stabilizing, people recovering from injuries way faster than they should. One guy woke up from a ten-year coma after losing control of his meta. Ten years. And it happened hours after being moved closer to Jade’s wing.”


    “Someone also won a lottery on a scratcher,” Gina chimed in, her tone somewhere between disbelief. “A literal, million-to-one shot.”


    “Broken bones knitting overnight,” Lore added, "Even the long-term cases—patients doctors had given up on—are bouncing back. Most of the hospital is already empty as a lot of patients had gone home healed. But, some also got worse and dead."


    Henry, who had been quietly leaning against the wall, sniggered, shaking his head. “People are nuts. I overheard a couple of rich patients talking about bribing staff to get rooms closer to her. Like she’s some kind of healing beacon. One guy even offered triple the normal fee to switch wards.”


    “Lucky for them,” I muttered, as a sudden wave of sadness hit me. “Not so lucky for her.”


    On one hand, it was easy to laugh at the absurdity of it all—lottery tickets, rich patients scrambling for proximity like she was a magic charm. On the other hand... At what’s the cost? I couldn’t stop the thought from creeping in. If people were benefiting from her presence, who was paying the price? The image of Jade in the tunnel surged back—her face pale, her body trembling in as her meta bled uncontrollably into the world around her. The way she held it all together, the pain etched into every movement, despite her body practically burning from the inside out. All of it just to keep me alive. To save us.


    I clenched my fists, the guilt twisting like a knife in my gut. She deserved so much more than this.


    “She’s not alone in there, is she?” I asked. “Tell me she’s not just locked up like some science experiment.”


    Alex shook his head “No, no. I heard they got a full team monitoring her. It’s just… after what’s happening, they’re being extra cautious.”


    “Yeah, cautious,” Gina said with a snort. “More like scared out of their minds.”


    Vinico, who’d been leaning against the wall in his usual silent way, finally spoke up. “I mean, accidental or not, it’s kinda impressive. Her powers don’t stop, even when she does. Good, bad—it all just happens around her. Reality bending just by existing? Not everyone can pull that off.”


    “Yeah, and not everyone wants to,” Gina shot back, “This isn’t something she’d ever ask for. You know that.”


    As if picking up on my unease, Lore smoothly shifted gears. “Do you have any idea what could’ve caused this? People and news are talking—villains, conspiracies. Several super organizations have already launched full-scale investigations into the incident."


    I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair. “It’s not concrete, but those rats clearly weren’t natural. Someone engineered them. If I had to guess, Tunnel Underground is a good candidate. Twisted animal experiments are kind of their thing.”


    “Figures,” Gina muttered, crossing her arms. “Creeps. Can’t even leave rats alone.”


    “Well, whatever it was,” Alex chimed in, leaning against the wall with his usual air of confidence, “you made it out. That’s what matters. And you’ve got us. You’re not dealing with this alone.”


    “Thanks for coming,” I said, my voice quieter but filled with sincerity.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    “Don’t get mushy on us,” Lore said with a small smile. “That’s what friends are for.”


    The mood lightened after that, the conversation shifting to safer topics. Gina launched into a dramatic monologue about her newest hero crush. “I’m telling you, he’s got the perfect jawline. And the voice? Like honey and thunder.”


    “Don’t let her fool you,” Vinico said dryly, adjusting his glasses. “She only noticed him because he lifted a bus. It’s always the show-offs.”


    “Oh, please,” Gina shot back. “Like you don’t have a thing for brainy types who can calculate physics in their sleep.”


    “Which reminds me,” Alex cut in, clearly relishing the attention. “Did I tell you I have successfully infiltrated the BlackSun Gang."


    For the next half hour, the room was filled with laughter, banter, and the kind of casual teasing that made everything feel, for a little while, normal. Eventually, they had to leave, promising to visit again soon.


    The door clicked shut behind them, and the room fell quiet once more.


    I leaned back against the pillows, sighing. Physically, I felt fine—completely healed, even—but the hospital insisted on keeping me for another night. Their reasoning? Some nonsense about observation. I didn’t argue, but in my head, I was already plotting my escape.


    Then, out of nowhere, a sudden thought gripped me, a sharp and irresistible urge I couldn’t shake. Before I could second-guess it, I swung my legs off the bed, my body shifting instinctively as I became intangible. I seeped through the door, stepping into the quiet hallway beyond. Alex had mentioned Jade’s floor number earlier. I hadn’t gone to see her yet, worried about running into her parents or someone else who might raise questions about our relationship. But now that visiting hours were over, the halls were quiet, and Jade was likely alone.


    I made my way to the elevator and descended to the eighth floor underground—the section of the hospital designed specifically for patients with volatile or out-of-control meta-natures. The corridors here felt different, tougher and oppressive, as if even the walls themselves were bracing for the unexpected.


    Exiting, the corridor stretched ahead, eerily quiet. Small windows dotted the heavy metal doors lining the hallway, I moved like a whisper, peering through them to look inside each room. Whenever a nurse or doctor passed by, I phased into the walls, waiting until their footsteps faded. It was slow going, but eventually, I found her. I peered cautiously through the window and saw Jade lying on her bed, propped up slightly. She wasn’t asleep—her eyes were half-lidded, weary but aware. A nurse stood by her side, handing over medicine in a small cup. I pressed into the wall, watching silently until the nurse finished her tasks and exited, disappearing down the corridor.


    The moment the coast was clear, I slid through the door, stepping cautiously into the dimly lit room.


    The soft shuffle of my shoes on the floor made Jade’s head snap toward me, her eyes widening. She gasped softly, her breath catching as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. But then her expression shifted—surprise melting into something warmer, her eyes sparkling even in the low light.


    “North?” she whispered, her voice barely audible to not alert the nurses. “What are you doing here?”


    I stepped closer, unable to stop the smile forming on my lips. “Breaking all the rules, apparently.”


    Her brow furrowed, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward as she gripped her blanket. “You’re going to get in so much trouble,” she murmured, her voice tinged with exasperation but laced with something softer—relief, maybe.


    “Worth it,” I said, moving to the edge of her bed. “I couldn’t just sit up there, knowing you’re stuck down here.”


    Jade pouted, shaking her head, “You’re so annoying,” she said, but her tone was light, almost fond.


    Annoying? Really? What did she even mean? I was clearly here to check on half of my heart and make sure she was alright. That’s not annoying—it’s heroic, if anything.


    I shrugged casually, my lips curling into a mischievous smirk as I took a step closer. “Annoying, huh?” I said, my voice teasing. “Guess I’ll just have to lean into it.” Without giving her a chance to respond, I reached down and lifted the edge of her blanket, ignoring her soft, half-hearted protests.


    “North!” she hissed, though the brightness in her eyes betrayed her happiness.


    “What?” I said, feigning innocence as I settled beside her.


    “You can’t just climb in here! What if someone walks in?” she whispered, her cheeks brightening.


    “Then I’ll say I’m a new type of advanced thermal therapy,” I replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “It’s freezing out there, and this is the only warm spot I see.”


    She rolled her eyes even as she leaned into me.


    “Besides, you missed me?” I said smugly.


    She didn’t respond at first, but then she nodded heavily, her head bobbing like it weighed too much to hold up.


    “That’s what I thought,” I whispered, pressing a light kiss to her temple.


    The scholars always said actions spoke louder than words, and she was proving them right.


    “Don’t get cocky,” she murmured, though her tone lacked bite.


    “Too late,” I said with a grin, before peppering her face with kisses.


    One peck. Two pecks. Five. Ten. Twenty.


    By the twentieth, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Hehehe, stop it,” she giggled, her laughter bubbling out uncontrollably as she tried to fend me off with her hands. But her attempts were as weak as her earlier protests. If anything, she seemed to be encouraging me, her cheeks glowing a brighter pink with each kiss. Her smile stretched impossibly wide, her laughter filling the small room. Beneath the blanket, I felt her legs coil around mine like a snake, locking me in place and making any escape impossible.


    My eyes narrowed playfully as realization struck me. Was this her plan all along? Was the arrogant dragon always one step ahead?


    It left me wondering—but only for a moment.


    I finally paused, taking a deep breath as I leaned back slightly to look her in the eyes. My voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “How are you feeling?”


    Jade pouted, her lips curling into an exaggerated frown that only made her look more adorable. “They said I’m leaking high amounts of radiation. Probably from overusing my meta-nature.” She let out a dramatic huff, crossing her arms with a flair of indignation. “Do they think I’m some kind of atomic bomb or something?”


    Her innocent frustration drew a chuckle from me. “Well, you did practically obliterate ten thousand bloody rats in one go,” I replied thoughtfully. “That’s gotta earn you at least a small atomic bomb comparison.”


    She glared at me, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “You’re not helping,” she grumbled, leaning back against the pillows. “And, as if that wasn’t enough, they banned me from using my meta-nature. Prohibited! Like I’m gonna go nuclear in the middle of the hospital.”


    “Probably a wise precaution,” I said, “You are a bit… unpredictable right now.”


    “Oh, please,” she pressed her hand on my lips, stopping me from speaking. “I’m perfectly stable. You’re the unpredictable one.”


    “Fair,” I conceded as I took her hand in mine. “But listen to them, okay? No meta stuff until you’re in safe territory?”


    Jade hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line, thinking. “Okay,” she admitted reluctantly. “Not like I have much of a choice. They’d probably tackle me if I tried anything.”


    “Well,” I said, squeezing her hand gently, “if they do, make sure to call me.”


    The moment the words left my lips, Jade smacked me on the shoulder, her narrowed eyes gleaming with mock anger. “Rude!” she huffed.


    I clutched my shoulder dramatically, feigning pain as I let out an exaggerated groan. “Hey, let me finish! I meant so I could beat up the backroom doctors for touching my love,” I said, my tone dripping with mock indignation.


    Jade froze for a moment, her cheeks instantly turning a deeper shade of red. Her hand flew to her neck, fingers brushing against the skin as if trying to cool the heat radiating from her face. “Oh, well… in that case…” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.


    But then, something flipped—like her brain short-circuited from the overload. Her lips pressed into a pout, and her expression shifted, her voice sharper now. “Still rude, though!”


    How was it still rude? What logic was that? I blinked at her, my eyes wide for emphasis, hoping she’d realize how absurd she sounded. But the look on her face told me there was no convincing her otherwise.


    But inwardly, I wanted to thank her—for not leaving me to die in that tunnel. She could have escaped easily if she’d wanted to, leaving the rest of us behind. But she hadn’t. She’d stayed, fought, and nearly pushed herself to the brink for my sake.


    Yet as much as the words sat on the tip of my tongue, I couldn’t bring myself to say them.


    Between us, expressing thanks felt… wrong. Like it would build some invisible wall, something that would wedge itself between our bond and make it fragile. It wasn’t just a feeling—it was more than that. My meta-nature occasionally gave me premonitions, small glimpses of truth, and they were always right. This was one of them, I was sure of it. We both knew each other’s secrets, yet we silently agreed not to address them. It wasn’t the right time. There would be plenty of opportunities in the future, moments when the weight of those truths could be shared without fear or hesitation.


    So, I held my tongue. Instead of words, I let my actions speak for me.


    I stayed by her side, my hand brushing hers lightly under the blanket as if to say, I see you. I appreciate you. I’m here.


    “You’re being quiet again,” Jade said after a moment, tilting her head to look at me. “That’s suspicious.”


    “Me? Quiet? Impossible,” I pulled myself back into the moment. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to be here, getting scolded by the most terrifyingly cute person I know.”


    "Huh?" Jade blinked at me, clearly unprepared for that. But instead of replying, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulling it over her head to hide her face from all the embarrassment she felt in the moment. “Stop! Please!" she mumbled. "You’re going to make me die of secondhand embarrassment.”


    I chuckled, leaning back against the pillows as I watched her burrow deeper into her makeshift cocoon. “Embarrassment is just love trying to fight its way out,” I teased, letting my hand rest lightly on the edge of the blanket. “And it’s my job to make sure you smile—whether you like it or not.”


    "You’re so annoying." A muffled laugh escaped from under the covers, and I knew she was cracking despite herself. "Stop talking!”


    I just shrugged again, completely unfazed. “Nope. This is who you signed up for, Jade London. Might as well embrace it.”


    As I spoke, my eyes drifted to her Likeness, the subtle shifts in her meta-nature that seemed to shift and ripple with her emotions. It was fascinating to watch—when she was happy, truly at ease, her meta-nature seemed to stabilize on its own. The toxic colors that had been bleeding into surroundings, damaging the reality around her, were slowing down significantly, fading into something softer, more controlled.


    It was as if her joy was pulling her back to balance, restoring the world around her as much as it was restoring her. I couldn’t help but smile, the realization sinking in.


    Jade let out a sigh, “I signed up for this, huh? Is there a refund policy?”


    “Refunds are non-existent,” I continued to see far I could push, “But there is a lifetime warranty.”


    “A warranty on you?” she raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What does that cover? Overexposure to cringe?”


    I tilted my head, pretending to consider. “Unlimited hugs, infinite kisses, and unconditional love. It’s a premium package. You won''t find it anywhere.”


    Jade flipped the blanket off her head. “Sounds like a scam,” Her face still red. “Where’s the fine print? What’s the catch?”


    “No catch, seriously” I said, shrugging casually. “Lifetime guarantee. No! Future Proof.”


    Jade opened her mouth, probably to shoot back some clever retort, but before she could get another word in, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms tightly around her, pulling her close before she could retreat under the blanket again. She was so warm in my arms, “I don’t want a future where you don’t exist,” I murmured, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “And not just that—I don’t want a future where you’re not mine.”


    Jade stiffened slightly at first, and I held my breath, wondering if I’d said too much. Then she pulled back, just enough to meet my gaze, I saw a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling in the depths of her eyes—something that looked suspiciously like love. Her eyes softened, her hands still cradling my face as if I might vanish if she let go. The gesture was so gentle it caught me off guard. In that moment, I felt cherished, treasured, as if I was the most precious thing in her world. My heart beat peacefully yet mixed with a powerful cocktail of emotions


    “You don’t get it, do you?” she murmured, her voice carrying an edge of emotion that made my breath hitch. “It’s not about futures or choices. You’re already a part of me. Losing you isn’t an option—it’s not even a possibility.”


    “And before you start with your self-sacrificing nonsense,” she added, a faint smirk tugging at her lips, “just know that if you try to cut yourself off or protect me by pushing me away, you won’t be able to escape me. You’d only coil around me back to back. I''ll make sure of that.”


    “You’re stuck with me,” she continued, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “For better or worse. Forever. In this version of this life, or next.”


    A laugh escaped me, shaky but real, “You think you’ve got me figured out, huh?”


    “Completely.” She said resolutely.


    I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. All I could do was look into her eyes, filled with a fierce, unyielding love that left me breathless.


    Love was the fastest and cruelest poison in the world. Yet here I was, willingly drowning in it.


    Suddenly, the door handle twisted, and before I could react, Jade shoved me under the blanket with surprising force. “Stay still!” she hissed, her voice a frantic whisper.


    The door creaked open, and the nurse peeked inside, her eyes scanning the room with a polite but suspicious air. “Is everything okay?” she asked, her gaze lingering on Jade. “I thought I heard a voice. Do you need anything?”


    Jade quickly pressed her hands to her cheeks, trying to smother the obvious blush spreading across her face. “N-no, I’m fine!” she stammered, her voice a little too high-pitched to sound natural. “Just, uh… talking to myself. You know, trying to stay sane in here.”


    The nurse raised an eyebrow, scanning the room.


    Meanwhile, under the blanket, my face pressed against her stomach. Jade’s hands held my head firmly, keeping me hidden. Her cozy clothes were warm against my cheek. I couldn’t help the small grin tugging at my lips as I shifted slightly. Unable to resist, I tugged her shirt up just enough to feel the smoothness of her skin beneath. Her waist was impossibly soft, her skin warm to the touch, like the finest silk. Her stomach rose and fell with each breath, the faint sounds of her insides a quiet rhythm that I found oddly comforting. Without thinking, my lips brushed against her skin, immediately, her stomach tensed, and her breath caught as her hands froze, holding me in place. Encouraged by her reaction, I let my tongue slip out, gliding lightly over the warm, smooth surface of her skin.


    Jade’s breath hitched audibly, her hands tightening against my head as if to keep me from going any further.


    “North,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “Stop that,” half a warning and half something else entirely.


    "I’m not doing anything?" I chuckled, my breath tickling her skin. “You''re holding my head.”


    Her grip on my head tightened briefly in frustration, but I felt her stomach quivered, her muscles flexing involuntarily under my bites. “If you get us caught, I swear I’ll—” She paused, probably realizing she didn’t have a real threat ready. “Just stay still!”


    The nurse''s eyes flicked briefly to the blanket lump where I was hiding, and I held my breath, praying I didn’t sneeze or do something equally incriminating. But, I wondered if Jade had already shifted the possibility of her finding me. Despite no meta warning.


    “Alright,” the nurse said after a pause. “Let me know if you need anything.”


    As soon as the door clicked shut and the nurse’s footsteps faded, Jade let out a shaky breath. “Okay, coast is clear.”


    I emerged from under the blanket, “Well, that was cozy,” I suggested, brushing some hair out of my face. “Should we make this a regular thing? Blanket hideouts and all?”


    Jade glared at me, “What if she had actually checked under the blanket?”


    “She didn’t,” I said, shrugging as if it had been no big deal. “You handled it perfectly. Quick thinking and all.”


    She groaned, “You’re lucky she didn’t notice anything, or we’d both be in trouble.”


    “Hey, I’m pretty sure I’d take all the heat,” I pointed out, “You’d just have to sit there and look cute saying you don’t know me, while they kick me out.”


    Her hands were still tangled in my hair, and she tugged hard, making me yelp in surprise. "Ouch! Ouch! Sorry." She looked absolutely adorable like this—her frustration and amusement blending into an expression that made her cheeks puff out slightly. It was so endearing I couldn’t help but get lost, despite knowing it would earn me more grief.


    Her squinted eyes said everything. “I’m calling the nurse,” she threatened, her finger already pointed at the door.


    I laughed, holding up my hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! No need to bring in reinforcements. I’ll behave.”


    She didn’t look convinced, her finger still hovering mid-air. “You? Behave? I’ll believe it when I see it.”


    I shrugged, letting the peace settle, “By the way, have your parents visited?” I asked, steering the conversation to a different topic.


    “No,” Jade’s expression didn’t change, remaining calm and composed. She gently shook her head, as if the question didn’t carry much weight for her. “My aunt and uncle visited me this morning,” she said softly. “But my home is too far from here. Even with FTL or dimension hoping, it’d still take them about a week to get here.”


    “Is that so,” I murmured, more to myself than her, and I didn’t press further. Actually, there wasn’t much else to say, unless I started to judge her parents, which I already was internally.


    Instead, noticing the subtle tension in her expression when I mentioned her parents, I decided to steer clear, “At least someone got to visit the queen of the hospital.”


    Jade retorted, “Queen of the hospital? More like a lab specimen. I swear, they keep poking at me like I’m about to explode.”


    “Well,” I leaning back beside her, “you did kind of save the day like an action hero. Maybe they’re just in awe.”


    She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. More like they’re terrified I’ll cause another incident.”


    “Hey,” I said firmly, squeezing her hand. “You kept us alive. Don’t downplay that. Don’t even joke about it.”


    She looked away, as if the weight of my words made her uncomfortable. “I just… did what I had to,” she murmured. “And now I''m locked here.”


    I shook my head, “You did more than that. Don’t let others make you feel like that’s nothing. If they can’t see that, it’s their problem—not yours. People are stupid anyway. While other might not care, I care. I’ll always care.”


    She looked like she wanted to argue, her lips parting as if to counter me, but then her shoulders sagged slightly. “You make it sound so simple."


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    For a moment, I almost felt bad, but the faint quirk of her lips betrayed her frustration.


    The arrogant dragon probably realized she couldn’t win this one against me. Not today