The days following the drama showcase were a strange, exhilarating blur for Mia. The campus, usually a predictable hum of academic routine, now felt charged with a new current of whispers and sidelong glances. The undeniable chemistry Kris and Mia had unleashed on stage, coupled with the very public family interaction backstage, had transformed them from fierce rivals into the subject of campus-wide speculation.
Everywhere Mia went, she felt eyes on her. Students whispered in hallways, their conversations dying down just as she passed. The question in their gazes was always the same: What's going on with you and Kris Windsor?
Her mind was a battleground. One moment, she recalled the arrogant Kris, the challenging rival, the source of her deepest frustrations. The next, she replayed his raw vulnerability on the mountain peak, the unexpected tenderness of his kiss, the quiet burden of his father's expectations. Her heart flip-flopped between a fierce desire to run in the opposite direction and an undeniable pull towards him, a strange, terrifying curiosity about what this could be. The confusion was exhausting, yet strangely thrilling.
Kris, surprisingly, seemed to be handling the public scrutiny with a mix of practiced indifference and subtle satisfaction. He still moved with his usual self-assurance, but Mia noticed a new glint in his eyes whenever he caught her looking, a possessive curve to his lips when their paths crossed in the hallways. He didn't openly acknowledge their new dynamic to anyone else, but his actions spoke volumes. He would appear in the art department more often, ostensibly to "check on something," his gaze always finding hers. He'd linger after class, making sure they walked out together. The subtle brushes of hands, the prolonged eye contact – it was all there, a silent, undeniable declaration to the observant.
James, naturally, was loving every minute of it. "See?" he'd tease, poking Mia during lunch. "I told you. The chemistry. The possessiveness. You two are a walking rom-com."
"It's not a rom-com, James, it's a disaster," Mia would groan, burying her face in her hands. "I don't know how to act around him anymore. We're not enemies, but we're not... normal."
"Good," James would reply, unfazed. "Normal is boring. You two were made for drama, literally."
Even Leo, gracious as ever, seemed to acknowledge the shift. He maintained a friendly distance, offering polite nods and brief smiles, but no more invitations. He saw it too, the undeniable spark between his friend and his rival, and seemed to have quietly stepped back.
One afternoon, Mia was sketching in the campus gardens, trying to find solace in her art, when Kris approached. He didn't sit down immediately, just stood watching her, his hands in his pockets. The air was thick with unspoken words.
"You're avoiding me, Princess?" he stated, his voice low, without accusation, just observation.
Mia didn't look up, her pencil moving across the paper. "I don't know what to do with this, Kris. With... us. We've been at each other's throats for years. And now, suddenly, we're not. And there's... this." She finally met his gaze, her eyes full of raw confusion. "Everyone's talking. My brother's teasing me relentlessly. Your dad knows something."
Kris walked closer, leaning against the back of her bench. "And what about you, Mia? What do you want to do with 'this'?" His voice was soft, devoid of its usual demanding edge. "Do you want to go back to how things were? The rivalry? The animosity?"
Mia thought of the sterile, emotionally distant animosity they'd shared. She thought of the week's intense shared moments, the vulnerability, the unexpected connection, the kiss. "No," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't. But I'm terrified of what 'this' is."
Kris was silent for a long moment, then reached out, his hand gently covering hers on the sketchbook. His touch sent a familiar jolt through her. "Me too," he confessed, his voice a low, rough murmur. "Terrified and... strangely exhilarated. But I don't want to go back either, Mia." His thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles. "So, maybe we figure it out. Together."
The quiet sincerity in his voice, the simple confession of his fear, melted away some of Mia's apprehension. The world, for a moment, shrank to just the two of them, under the warm afternoon sun, surrounded by the whispers of the campus.