Felicity's POV.
The moment my door clicked shut, my knees gave out. I slid to the ground and broke into tears. Penelope rushed over, crouching at my side, her arms already wrapping around me trying to console me.
"I knew it," I whispered, voice shaking. "Two times I told myself he resembled Theo—but my stupid heart didn't want to see it. And there he was. Theo. Alex. Same boy. The one I was crazy about, the one I humiliated myself for, the one who broke me once—and now he's done it again."
"Come on," Penelope said softly, tugging me up. "Let's get you to bed. Please don't cry."
I pulled myself up and I let her guide me and stumbled toward the bed collapsing onto the mattress like a broken thing. "How could I not cry? He broke me, Penelope. He broke me."
I wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve, my voice barely a whisper. "Do you even know what he did to me, Penelope? Back then?"
Her brows knitted, but she stayed quiet, letting me speak.
"I met him when we were kids—Theodore Owen. He was different. He had this accent, this smile…he made me feel seen in a way no one else did. And I…I was stupid enough to think he might feel the same."
The memory clawed its way back, raw as ever. "So I told him. In front of everyone. I said I liked him. I asked him to prom." My throat tightened. "And do you know what he did? He laughed. Said I could say whatever I wanted in front of his friends. Then he cut me off. Completely. Took another girl—my friend—and left me humiliated, like some pathetic joke."
Tears stung again, spilling before I could stop them. "Everyone laughed at me. Everyone. And I swore I'd never fall for anyone again. Never give my heart away that easily. And then—" I pressed a trembling hand to my chest. "Then I come here, and it's him. Alex. Theo. Same boy. The one who broke me once, breaking me all over again."
Penelope's face softened, fury flickering in her eyes. She reached for my hand, squeezing hard.
I shook my head. "How could I have been so blind?"
Penelope perched cross-legged at the end of my bed, staring at me like she was piecing together a mystery novel. Then her eyes widened, narrowed, and finally exploded into full-on disbelief. "Wait. Wait, wait—are you telling me Alex is…Theodore Owen? That boy? The one with the dimples, the accent, the grey eyes? That Theo?"
Tears burned my throat as I buried my face in my scarf. "Yes. That Theo."
Penelope groaned so loudly I swore the whole dormitory could hear her. "Oh, absolutely not. Nope. We are not doing this. He doesn't get to be both—your first crush and your first heartbreak? Double strikeout? What kind of Shakespearean tragic mess is this?"
I laughed bitterly, even through my tears. "Apparently mine."
That was all the permission she needed. Penelope shot to her feet, hands on her hips like she was about to declare war. "No. I refuse. I don't care if he's Alex, Theo, or bloody Alexander the Great—he's not doing this to you again. You hear me? I'll march right up to the Dean, the Chancellor, the Prime Minister if I have to, and have him banned from Oxford. No—better—I'll excommunicate him from England itself."
Despite myself, I hiccupped a laugh. "Penelope…"
She jabbed a finger at me. "No, don't Penelope me. Men are the absolute worst. If Shakespeare were alive right now, he'd write sonnets about how much I want to punch Theo-slash-Alex right in his smug little dimple."
I laughed harder, though it cracked around the edges, tears still streaming down my face. "You're insane."
"I'm loyal," she corrected, softening at last. She crawled closer, pulling the blanket over me. "And you, Felicity Paddington, are worth so much more than this. So cry if you need to, rage if you need to, but don't you dare think he gets to define your worth. Ever again."
And there it was—the ache in my chest easing, just enough for me to breathe.
Penelope wasn't wrong. He broke me. Twice. And yet…part of me was terrified. Terrified of Chris breaking me too. Because if my heart shattered a third time, I wasn't sure I'd survive it.
Her gaze softened, though her tone didn't. "And you—you were starting to fall for him again. Weren't you?"
The silence was my answer. I stared at the wall, chest rising and falling too fast.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," I whispered. "I've been through this before. I knew he was too good to be true, but still I let myself believe. And now…now he's shattered me twice, Pen." My voice cracked. "I don't think I can survive a third time."
Penelope's hand landed on mine, firm, grounding. "Then don't give him the chance."
I shook my head, blinking hard. "But what if…what if Christopher does the same? What if he breaks me too? I can't—I can't handle another scar like this."
Penelope gave me the look—the one that cut through all my drama and drilled straight into my soul. "Felicity Paddington, listen to me. Alex broke your heart because he was weak, because he couldn't face his own mess. Christopher? He'd rather choke on his own pride than ever let you go through that again. That boy would crawl through glass for you, and you know it. He's my brother, and I've lived with him for years."
My chest tightened. I did know it. But the fear still sat there, heavy and unshakable.
>>>>>
Christopher's POV.
I'd heard everything about Felicity's past. I waited in the dorm hall until Penelope left the room, then slipped inside.
Felicity sat by the window, knees pulled to her chest, her hair loose and messy like she'd been fighting a war inside her own head. Maybe she had. Her eyes flicked up to me, raw and red-rimmed. My chest split right open.
"I heard," I said quietly. "About Theo. About Alex."
Her lips trembled, but she didn't deny it. I crossed the room slowly, like approaching a wounded bird. Then I crouched in front of her, resting my hand lightly on her knee. "I'm not him, Felicity. I'll never be him."
Her breath hitched. "But what if you break me too?"
That question nearly knocked me flat. I wanted to grab her and swear on my crown, on my blood, on everything I had, that I never would. Instead, I forced myself to be honest. "I can't promise I'll never hurt you, Fel. People mess up. I'll mess up. But I can promise you this—" My voice steadied, low and fierce. "I'll never abandon you. Not for anyone. Not for anything. Not even myself."
Her tears slipped free. She pressed her face into my chest, and I held her like she was made of glass, like one wrong move would shatter her forever.
And right there, I decided something. If two weeks was all I had with her, then I'd make it count. I'd make her laugh until she forgot Alex ever existed. I'd take her places she never dreamed. I'd make her feel wanted, cherished, adored—until she couldn't imagine life without it. Without me. Because losing her? That wasn't an option.
>>>>>
Mia's POV.
From the courtyard below, I tilted my head up, watching the window glow faintly against the dark sky. Two silhouettes pressed close together inside. Her hair. His arm. Perfect picture. Perfect couple. Perfect target.
I smirked, cold and sharp. "So Alex finally spilled it. Theo Owen. Oh, this is delicious."
Pulling my coat tighter, I slipped my phone from my pocket. With a swipe, I snapped a picture of the window. Not that it showed their faces clearly—but it didn't have to. Rumors didn't need proof. Just fuel. And I, Mia Harrison, was very, very good at lighting fires.