"Asya, I'm sorry!" Nik's hands landed gently but firmly on my shoulders, his voice laced with genuine concern. "Did you hit yourself badly?"
I only nodded, still mute from the jolt. The instant his fingers brushed me, the familiar flutter of butterflies came alive in my stomach.
"Nik? What are you doing here? Class isn't over yet," Diana asked, eyebrows raised.
"They let us out early, so I thought I'd wait by your classroom. Then I saw people leaving and wondered how you were doing… and, well—boom. Not my most graceful moment," he admitted with an awkward smile.
"It's fine," I said, rubbing my forehead. "Let's go to the cafeteria. I'm craving something hot."
"Absolutely. My treat—just not pizza," he teased with a wink.
I laughed and gave his shoulder a playful tap. "And no kidnappings this time."
"As you command."
We slipped into the cafeteria and found seats at a long table crowded with our loud, excitable classmates. Their chatter was all about the upcoming school disco, each voice weaving into a tapestry of anticipation.
"The theme's already set," Tatiana announced like a herald delivering great news. "We're having a real Halloween!" Her eyes shone as she recounted the details she'd overheard from her mother's phone call. "They've ordered glowing garlands, ghost cut-outs—parents are even helping with decorations. And on the DJ table, there'll be an actual carved pumpkin! Oh, and a contest for the best costume."
"Will there be sweets?" Dasha asked timidly, hope tugging at her voice.
"Of course! Everything will be authentic," Tatiana assured.
"I can already guess your costumes," Andrey smirked, sweeping a hand toward the girls. "Witches or cats. Every one of you."
A flush crept over Dasha's cheeks, and she dropped her gaze. "I like stories about witch familiars," she murmured so softly I barely caught it from across the table.
"And you boys will all be zombies," Tatiana shot back, flipping her hair. "Which means if you skip showering after gym, you won't even need makeup."
Andrey's lips tightened, his glare almost daring her chair to burst into flames. Trying to cut through the tension, I said lightly, "I think I'll go as a vampire."
Nik's arm, which had been comfortably looped around my waist, suddenly stilled.
"That would make… an excellent costume," he replied evenly, though something in his tone made me pause. I thought it was a harmless joke—to match my 'costume' with his reality—but the flicker in his expression hinted otherwise. Even as I searched for a quick recovery, another voice cut in from behind me.
"A vampire? Now that's intriguing, Asya."
I turned, and my heart stumbled. Stanislav stood there as if nothing had happened—backpack slung over one shoulder, copper hair damp and tousled, as though he'd just come in from the rain. His grin was slow, deliberate. "Gothic elegance or something a little more… modern?"