Even after some time had already passed, the media still hadn't quieted down—the frenzy over her name only grew louder by the day. Mirabelle's name dominated every feed, every broadcast and every glowing screen. Her face was plastered across magazines and headlines, crowned with titles like BELLE TERANIA: THE WOMAN BEHIND NOAH ROLSTON'S SMILE.
And much of it—every spark of speculation and every explosion of attention—was Noah's fault. Granted, it wasn't entirely unexpected. After all, this was the Noah Rolston: international superstar, chart-topping artist, and the media's favorite enigma. His public image had always been one of cool detachment—polished, poised, and almost untouchably aloof. So when someone like him began acting soft, tender, and utterly transparent about one person, it was inevitable that the world would lose its mind.
Still, the real problem wasn't the attention itself—it was Noah. Because, more often than not, he was the one fanning the flames with that calm smile and that unbothered confidence.
Each time his PR team tried to control the story, Noah would go on air and ignite it all over again. Worse, the moment anyone mentioned Belle's name, his expression would soften in that unmistakable way. Sometimes he even blushed before pretending not to notice. Every small gesture of his had become a declaration—and the world was addicted to watching him make it.
That morning, Mirabelle sat in the Terania estate's breakfast nook, sunlight catching on her mug as she scrolled through her notifications. Her phone buzzed: "EON live interview – trending now!"
She clicked the stream. Onscreen, the five members of EON lounged on a glossy talk show couch, laughing easily. The host leaned forward with a mischievous grin.
"So, Noah," she began, her tone playful and knowing, "how are things going with your… someone special?"
Mirabelle immediately choked on her coffee.
The audience erupted with cheers and laughter, already buzzing with anticipation.
Noah smiled faintly—soft, deliberate, and devastatingly calm. "I'm working hard for her," he said, his voice warm.
The host smiled eagerly, seizing the moment. "And is this someone special the mysterious fiancée you mentioned before?"
Noah tilted his head slightly, perfectly composed. "I should clarify that," he said evenly. "I… misunderstood."
The audience gasped.
"I'm not actually engaged."
Cassian groaned audibly. Theo chuckled, covering up his laughter with his hand. Jace tried and failed to contain his laughter while Luca muttered, "Oh god, it's happening."
The host gaped. "You—misunderstood an engagement?"
"It happens," Noah replied with infuriating composure.
The room erupted in laughter.
Then, without warning, he leaned forward slightly, his tone warm and certain. "But I'll make sure I get engaged properly next time."
"To who?" the host demanded.
He smiled faintly. "To my special someone."
The studio lost its mind—screams, laughter, cheers exploding all at once.
Mirabelle groaned aloud. "Oh, for heaven's sake." She grabbed her phone and began furiously typing.
Belle:Noah, stop saying things like that!!
On the live program, Noah's phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced down, and his lips curved into the softest smile—one that sent the crowd into another frenzy. Without hesitation, he typed back.
Noah:Why? It's true.
The audience cooed in unison. The host's eyes widened, half-delighted, half-scandalized. "Wait—was that her?"
Noah only smiled, his expression quiet but unmistakably tender.
Back at the Terania estate, Mirabelle covered her face with both hands, her ears turning pink.
"Oh my god," she whispered into her palms.
Meanwhile, chaos spread online. EON's PR manager was probably hyperventilating. Cassian was muttering about early retirement, and Jace was teasing Cassian that this was karma for his own headline fiasco with Clara awhile back. Through it all, Noah looked serene, smiling at the cameras like a man with nothing to hide and everything to claim.
That night, Mirabelle decided to stay awake to confront him when he inevitably appeared. But as midnight dragged on, her eyelids grew heavier, her determination slipping.
Then—click. The door.
Her heart skipped.
Noah stepped inside, quiet as always. When he saw her sitting up, he paused briefly, then smiled in that slow, self-satisfied way.
"You're still up," he said lightly.
"I was waiting," she managed, voice trembling.
Without hesitation, he crossed the room and slipped beneath the blankets beside her, his movements so natural it was almost terrifying.
Mirabelle let out a startled, shy sound—"Mmm…!"—half gasp, half flustered noise, her body tensing as he settled in beside her. It wasn't something she was used to, not at all, even though he moved like someone who had done this a hundred times before. But he pulled her gently against his chest.
Her protest died in her throat as his warmth surrounded her, steady and enveloping. For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet stretched between them, filled only by the soft rhythm of their breathing and the faint rustle of sheets.
Noah's hand moved slowly, almost absently, through her hair—gentle, rhythmic strokes that made her eyelids flutter despite herself. Every touch seemed to wordlessly say you're safe, I'm here, and that made it even harder to think straight.
Minutes passed in silence, her thoughts a jumble of confusion, comfort, and something dangerously close to peace. She didn't know what to do with the way her chest ached—not from fear, but from the terrifying calm of belonging.
Finally, she found her voice, small and trembling.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, her words barely louder than a breath.
Noah's voice was soft. "Your parents said I could keep pursuing you, didn't they?"
"They said you were determined to make it real," she murmured, "but… why?"
He blinked, confusion flickering. "Because I love you, of course."
Her breath hitched. "You—what?"
"Didn't you know?"
She froze, her voice trembling as the words slipped out. "Noah, we haven't even talked in over a year!"
He sighed, the sound quiet and tired. "Then maybe it's one-sided. But I've been watching your performances. Following everything you do. You don't answer my calls, so I made sure you were safe another way."
Her eyes widened. "You what? Noah, that's—"
"You blocked me," he said simply, as if that explained everything.
She was still reeling when his tone softened again. "You're incredible, Belle. You make people love you without even trying."
Her throat tightened painfully. "Don't say that," she whispered, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes. "You don't get to say that."
The words trembled out of her like glass splintering. "What do you even know about love, Noah? About one-sided love? You make it sound so easy—like you can just say it and it'll be true. How do you even know you're feeling it? You don't know me!"
For a moment, silence filled the room—thick and fragile. Noah didn't move. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, steady, but full of something that felt achingly real.
"I know how I feel," he said softly. "I can't stop thinking about you, Belle. I can't stop wanting to be near you. When I'm with you, everything feels right—like the noise finally stops."
He took a slow breath, his gaze distant, almost reverent. "Back then, you were always there. At every recital, at every practice… every time I looked up, you were always there."
"I owe everything to your parents," Noah continued quietly. "Gideon and Elara gave me a home. They gave me opportunities I never could've dreamed of. But you…" His voice softened, almost reverent. "You were the one who stayed beside me. You gave me all the love and care I never even knew I needed. I was never alone, because you were always there."
His tone wavered slightly, a rare crack of emotion. "You made me feel… loved. Even when I didn't know how to accept it."
He smiled faintly, eyes softening. "And then I watched you change. I watched you become this incredible woman—strong, brilliant, untouchable."
"It took me a long time to see it," he admitted, his voice low and sincere. "But now that I do… it's all I can see. And now everyone else sees it too—how incredible you are. How could I not fall in love with you?"
The silence that followed wasn't empty—it pulsed with everything unsaid, every heartbeat caught between regret and longing.
Mirabelle felt herself trembling.. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard. His words—the tenderness in his voice and the conviction in his tone—echoed endlessly in her mind, blending with memories from before. They intertwined with the words from that other timeline, the ones that had once broken her completely.
Her breath hitched as confusion tangled with grief. "Stop," she whispered weakly, shaking her head. "Please stop… I don't understand." The tears fell before she could stop them—hot, relentless, and full of something far deeper than sorrow. She tried to pull away, to create even the smallest distance between them, but Noah's arms tightened gently around her.
"Hey… it's okay," he murmured, his voice steady even as concern flickered through his eyes. "You're safe, Belle. I've got you."
She cried harder then—because he didn't know. He didn't understand the pain that still lived inside her, the ghosts of a past he had never seen. And still, he held her, steady and unyielding, as if his warmth alone could shield her from everything that hurt.
Her sobs eventually softened into broken gasps, her strength fading as exhaustion pulled her under. Her breathing evened out, quiet and heavy against his chest.
Noah brushed a strand of hair from her face and pressed a lingering kiss at the top of her head.
"Everything will be okay," he murmured softly. "I'll make sure of it. I promise."
And as the night stretched on, he held her close—utterly unaware of the history that haunted her, and utterly certain that he wasn't letting go.