Soren Arden POV
The morning light crept across the wall, spilling through the thin gap in the curtains.
It was too bright.
He blinked once, then turned away from it, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders.
The faint hum of students outside drifted through the dormitory walls: laughter, voices, footsteps echoing down the halls.
He closed his eyes.
It was all too loud.
He had been awake since dawn, staring at the ceiling until the shapes in the wood began to blur.
His chest felt heavy, like something inside him was pressing down, refusing to move.
Every breath came unevenly.
Every small sound made his skin twitch.
He sat up slowly, his body sluggish, his head light.
The sheets clung to his skin.
His throat was dry, but the thought of standing made him nauseous.
He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, forcing out a shaky breath.
'You're fine. Just breathe,' he told himself.
He reached for the pitcher on his bedside table and poured a little water into the cup beside it.
His hands trembled, and the water sloshed over the edge, running down his fingers.
He set it down quickly, wincing as the sound cracked through the quiet.
Everything felt fragile, even noise.
The reflection in the mirror caught his eye as he turned.
His own face looked strange to him.
The same white hair, the same red eyes, but there was something missing.
The sharpness that used to be there, the faint curve of a smirk that came easily before.
He looked empty.
He hated it.
He forced himself to move away.
He washed his face, changed his clothes, pulled his cloak on, and tied his hair back.
Each motion was slow, mechanical.
It didn't make him feel cleaner, just… less exposed.
He stared at the door for a long time.
He wanted to go outside, he really did, but his body wouldn't move.
The world beyond that handle felt as if it were pressing against him, like the second he stepped out, it would swallow him whole.
He sat back down on the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
'You have to stop doing this.'
He knew he couldn't keep this up, but no matter what he said, it didn't change how he felt deep down.
He stayed like that for a while, not even noticing the time pass.
Then, a sound broke through the silence.
A soft knock at the door.
Once, then again.
Soren froze instantly.
His shoulders tensed, and his breath stopped.
Another knock; patient, unhurried.
Then a calm, familiar voice.
"Ren? It's Lilly."
His mind blanked.
'That voice… why?'
He turned his head toward the door but didn't move closer.
There was no reason for her to be here.
He thought about pretending he wasn't inside, but there was something in her tone, gentle, almost hesitant, that stopped him.
Not demanding, not pitying, just… warm.
He stood slowly, his legs stiff.
His hand hovered over the handle before he opened the door a crack.
Light spilt in from the hallway.
Lilliana stood there, a small basket held in both hands.
Her light-pink hair framed her face neatly, a few strands shifting in the summer breeze from the open windows behind her.
She smiled faintly when she saw him.
"Good morning," she said softly. "I hope I'm not being a bother."
Soren blinked, still processing the sight of her.
"No. I was just…"
He trailed off.
She tilted her head slightly.
"Resting?"
He gave a small nod.
"Then I'm lucky, I managed to catch you when you're awake," she said with a small laugh. "I brought some fruit from the shopping district. I thought you might be hungry."
Her tone was casual, almost too casual, as if she had already guessed he would refuse if she made it sound like a request.
He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the basket.
Inside were fruits of all kinds, from apples to oranges.
Lilliana had brought as much variety as possible.
"I'm… not really hungry," he muttered quietly.
"That's fine," she said, still smiling. "Then walk with me instead. The air's nice today."
Her eyes met his for a moment, calm and steady.
He felt his chest tighten.
He wanted to say no, to shut the door, go back to bed, and sink into the numbness that had kept him safe ever since that day, but something in her expression, the quiet patience, disarmed him.
She wasn't waiting for a reason; she was waiting for him.
He swallowed hard.
"...Alright."
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
The walk through the campus was quiet.
The courtyard stretched open before them, the cobblestones warm under the sunlight.
The faint scent of flowers drifted from the nearby hedges, carried by a soft breeze that rustled the leaves overhead.
Soren kept a small distance between them, his cloak brushing faintly against his legs as he walked.
His gaze stayed fixed on the ground, counting steps.
Lilliana didn't fill the silence.
Her pace was slow, unhurried, every motion deliberate.
The sound of her shoes tapping lightly across the stone filled the empty space between their footsteps, steady and rhythmic.
It grounded him in a strange way.
When they reached the path that led behind the faculty dormitory, she spoke for the first time since leaving the building.
"I've been tending to the garden since I first started as a professor. I'm glad I can show you," she said lightly.
Her tone was calm and conversational, not forced.
Soren gave a short hum, not quite an answer.
They reached a wooden gate tucked between ivy-coloured walls, and Lilliana pushed it open with a soft creak.
"Here we are."
The garden beyond was small but vibrant; clusters of white lilies, trailing vines, and patches of lavender swaying in the breeze.
Stone paths wound through neatly bordered soil, and in the centre, a low wooden bench sat beneath the shade of a flowering tree.
The air was thick with the scent of grass and blooming herbs.
Soren stopped near the entrance, his eyes scanning the space.
It was quiet, but somehow not in a bad way.
He followed her in slowly, the warmth of sunlight touching the back of his neck.
"I take care of this place between classes," Lilliana said softly, setting her basket down on the bench. "It's peaceful here."
She crouched near a patch of herbs, brushing her fingers gently across the leaves.
"Here, sit, if you'd like."
Soren hesitated but eventually sat at the far edge of the bench.
The wood was warm from the sun.
He kept his eyes on the plants in front of him, hands clasped tightly in his lap.
The faint tremor in his fingers refused to settle.
Lilliana began arranging her herbs in silence, humming softly to herself.
It was a simple melody; low and steady, almost like a lullaby.
Each sound seemed to melt into the gentle rustle of leaves.
"Do you like flowers?" she asked after a while, her tone quiet.
Soren blinked, caught off guard.
"I've never really thought about it," he admitted.
"I suppose most people don't," she said with a small smile. "But I hope you can grow to like them."
He stared at the garden before him.
"...Maybe."
Lilliana poured tea into two small cups she had taken from her basket, from beneath the fruit.
Steam curled into the air, carrying the faint scent of chamomile and mint.
She set one cup beside him on the bench.
"You don't have to drink it, but it might help you feel a little warmer," she said gently.
Her hand withdrew immediately after setting it down; she made sure not to brush against his.
He looked at the cup for a long time.
Eventually, he lifted it with both hands, the porcelain hot against his palms.
The warmth bled through his gloves, grounding him, and he took a small sip.
It was mild and floral, just enough to coat his throat.
The two of them sat in silence for a while.
Birds chirped faintly from the branches overhead.
The sunlight shifted across the ground, moving through the leaves like ripples in water.
For the first time in ages, Soren didn't feel like he needed to watch every shadow.
Lilliana glanced sideways at him.
"You look tired," she said softly.
He gave a quiet huff of air that wasn't quite a laugh.
"I guess I am."
"Nightmares?"
He hesitated, then nodded once.
She didn't push further.
"Then rest when you can. Don't fight sleep just because it hurts to dream.
He didn't answer, but the words sank somewhere deep inside.
Minutes passed.
Then she spoke again, quieter this time.
"I'm glad you came back, Ren."
He blinked.
"...To the academy?"
"To us," she said, still smiling faintly. "There are more people who care about you than you think."
He lowered his gaze, unsure of how to respond.
He couldn't imagine it, but the sincerity in her voice made it hard to argue.
He only nodded, just enough for her to see.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
The conversation drifted after that; simple topics that required no thought.
She told him about the herbs that struggled to grow in the dry months, about the flowers she had been growing.
He listened more than he spoke.
Occasionally, she would ask a small question, and he would answer in short, quiet phrases.
It wasn't much, but it was something.
A bee passed between them, buzzing lazily through the air.
Soren's shoulders tensed immediately, his hand twitching before he caught himself.
Lilliana didn't react; she just kept humming softly, her movements unbroken.
When the bee flew off, he let out a shaky breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
"You're doing fine," she murmured.
He looked at her, confused.
"What?"
"You stayed calm," she said simply. "That's what matters."
He turned his eyes back to the flowers, his lips parting slightly as if to answer, but no words came.
The warmth of the tea seeped into his chest.
He didn't understand why her voice made it easier to breathe.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
Time passed slowly after that.
The world beyond the garden seemed far away, replaced by the soft sounds and warm air.
Soren's shoulders gradually loosened; the constant weight pressing against his chest began to lift, just a little.
He didn't speak much, but his silence no longer felt like drowning.
It was quiet, calm and even.
Lilliana didn't ask questions.
She didn't try to fix anything or force a smile from him.
She simply existed beside him, tending to her garden, her presence steady and familiar.
It was enough.
When the tea had long gone cold, she brushed the dirt from her hands and straightened up.
The afternoon light painted the garden gold, catching on her pink hair as the breeze stirred it gently.
She turned toward him, her tone still light.
"I don't know how much it helped, but I'm glad you trusted me."
He blinked, glancing toward the flowers.
"It helped," he admitted after a long pause.
"Good." Her smile was soft, almost proud. "Then that's progress."
Soren tilted his head slightly.
"Progress?"
"Every time you do something that makes you breathe a little easier," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "that's progress."
He looked down, his thumb brushing over the edge of the cup he still held.
It was an unfamiliar kind of reassurance, one that didn't make him feel weak for needing it.
"I don't know if I can… act like nothing happened."
Her eyes softened.
"You don't need to."
He looked up.
"You just need to be able to live without hurting every time you think."
Her words hung in the air for a long moment.
He didn't reply, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
The wind shifted.
A few petals from the nearby tree drifted down, landing in the grass between them.
Soren stared at them for a moment before speaking quietly.
"Why are you doing this?"
Lilliana blinked, then tilted her head.
"Doing what?"
"Helping me. You don't have to."
Her answer came immediately, without hesitation.
"I want to."
He frowned, slightly confused.
"Why?"
Her voice was steady, but her eyes were warm.
"I'm returning the favour… is what I would like to say, but that's a lie, I just care about you, Ren."
He stared at her.
She smiled faintly.
"When I first started teaching here, I wasn't sure how well it would go. I just wanted to stay away from home for as long as possible, but I didn't have any friends here. I was lonely."
The watering can in her hand trickled against the blooming flowers.
"But then you came along. The first friend I ever made, the first person to truly care about me."
She exhaled softly.
"So now, I want to return that kindness."
Soren looked away.
"I don't think I've been that kind…"
"That's not true, and you know it."
"..."
Soren felt something in his chest tighten the more he spoke to Lilliana; not pain, not exactly, just something raw and heavy that made it hard to speak.
He wanted to thank her, to apologise, but the words refused to leave his throat.
So instead, he just nodded, barely visible.
Lilliana turned her eyes toward the flowers, crouching to pick one.
A red rose, one that glowed vibrantly under the sunlight.
She held it out toward him.
"Here. A gift."
He hesitated, staring at her open hand.
His chest tightened again, not from fear, but uncertainty.
He didn't want to pull away, but the thought of touch still made his stomach twist.
She seemed to realise that; she didn't move closer.
She simply placed the flower down on the bench beside him instead.
"For later," she whispered softly. "When you're ready."
He stared at the flower for a long time before speaking.
"...Thank you."
The words came out small, fragile, but real.
She smiled.
"You're welcome, Ren."
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
The sun dipped lower in the sky.
The soft light cast long shadows across the stone path, stretching throughout the garden.
Soren set the cup down carefully, standing from the bench.
His body still felt heavy, but not as much as before.
"I should go," he murmured.
Lilliana nodded, brushing the dirt from her knees.
"Alright, but come back if you need quiet. My door is always open."
He paused at the garden gate.
Her voice followed gently.
"It's okay to take small steps, Ren. Even if you think no one notices."
He looked back once, meeting her eyes.
There was no pity there; only patience and affection.
"...I'll remember that," he said.
Then he turned and walked away down the path, the hem of his cloak fluttering in the cool breeze.
Lilliana watched him go, her hands clasped lightly in front of her.
When he disappeared beyond the gate, she turned back to her garden, the corners of her lips lifting in a quiet smile.
Her gaze fell on the empty spot beside the bench, where the red rose had been sitting.
It was gone.
She laughed softly to herself, touching the petals of another flower.
"Even when he's like this, he still can't hide his kindness."
The evening light shimmered across the garden, gold fading to soft pink.
And somewhere along that quiet breeze, a single red petal drifted after him, carried down the path toward the dormitories.
————「❤︎」————