It was the first time Sharon had seen Zuri quiet.
She sat on the low bench near the school greenhouse, legs crossed, her usual chaotic hair tamed in a lazy braid. The sky was turning coral pink, and beside her sat Levi — hoodie on, glasses slipping down his nose, coding notebook forgotten on the ground.
Neither of them noticed Sharon at first. And that was the part that struck her.
They weren't performing.
They were… existing.
Zuri laughed suddenly — a sound lighter than anything Sharon had heard on campus all week. "You really fixed the surveillance blind spot near the East Wing?"
Levi shrugged. "I didn't fix it. I just made sure no one could fix it."
Zuri leaned back, smiling. "You're dangerous."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
Sharon almost turned to leave — not out of jealousy, but out of respect. She didn't know what this was between them, but it was real. She could feel it.
But Levi spotted her.
"Hey," he said, calm as ever. "You okay?"
Zuri looked up next and waved. "Come join us. You look like you're about to slap someone."
Sharon smirked, stepping closer. "Is that your idea of a compliment?"
Zuri patted the empty bench beside her. "It's been a tense week. You deserve to sit beside lovebirds."
Levi groaned softly. "We're not—"
"Yes," Zuri interrupted, eyes gleaming. "Yes, we are. He's just slow."
Sharon actually laughed. For a second, she forgot about Bianca, Damian, the notes, the Circle.
She just let herself breathe.
---
After a few minutes, Levi stood up and picked up his notebook. "I have something to show you," he said to Zuri.
She raised a brow. "What, code that confesses your feelings in binary?"
He smiled. "Maybe."
She followed him. No hesitation.
And when Sharon looked down at the bench after they'd left, she saw a small heart carved into the wood. It was recent — the cuts still raw, the lines a little shaky.
She didn't know who carved it.
But she knew who it belonged to.
---
💬 Love doesn't always scream. Sometimes it waits, quietly.
Even here.
---
📌 End of Interlude