The air was colder now, the kind of cold that bit through layers and left a pink flush on skin.
Snow clung stubbornly to the edges of sidewalks, and Selene's breath curled in the air as she
walked toward the music room.
It had been a week since the winter concert. A week since she'd stepped onto that stage, since
her fingers had moved over the keys not just for herself, but for everyone who had listened.
A week since she had seen Lila looking at her like that.
Selene hadn't expected the concert to change anything. But it had.
People looked at her differently now. Students who had barely acknowledged her existence
before stopped her in the halls to say they liked her performance. A few even asked if she'd play
again at the next concert.
But none of that mattered as much as the way Lila had looked at her that night.
There was something about that moment, about Lila's eyes bright with something unspoken,
that had lodged itself in Selene's chest. And it hadn't left.
It was unsettling.
Not in a bad way. Just in a way that Selene didn't quite understand. ---
She found Lila in the music room, as always.
She was curled up on the windowsill, her sketchpad resting on her knees, the soft scratch of
pencil against paper filling the space.
Selene hesitated in the doorway, watching her.
It wasn't the first time she had watched Lila like this—when she was focused, lost in her art, her
brows furrowed ever so slightly. But for some reason, today, it felt different.
She forced herself to step inside, closing the door behind her.
Lila looked up and grinned. "Hey, superstar."
Selene groaned, dropping onto the piano bench. "You have to stop calling me that."
"Never," Lila said cheerfully, flipping her sketchbook closed. She slid off the windowsill and
plopped down beside Selene. "So, how does it feel? Being famous and all?"
Selene rolled her eyes, but there was warmth in her chest. "It feels exactly the same."
Lila hummed, tapping her fingers against the edge of the piano. "I don't believe that. You're
different now."
Selene stiffened. "I'm not."
Lila tilted her head. "No? You walked in here with your head up. That's new."
Selene hadn't even realized. But Lila was right.
It was subtle, but something had shifted.
She wasn't sure how she felt about that. ---
As the days passed, Selene couldn't shake the feeling that something was changing between
her and Lila.
It was in the way their conversations stretched longer, in the way Lila leaned closer when she
spoke. The way her hand would brush against Selene's—fleeting, accidental, but lingering just
enough to make Selene notice.
She told herself she was imagining it. That this was just how Lila was—bright, affectionate,
warm.
But then there were the other moments.
Like the way Lila's gaze would linger. The way she watched Selene like she was trying to figure
something out.
Or the way Selene found herself drawn to her—like a magnet, like gravity, like something she
couldn't control.
It made her restless. Made her stomach twist in ways she didn't quite understand.
She had never really thought about things like this before.
Not about Lila. Not about anyone.
But suddenly, it was all she could think about. ---
One evening, as they sat together in the music room, Lila reached over and took Selene's hand
without thinking.
It wasn't the first time they'd touched. But it was the first time it felt intentional.
Selene went still.
Lila's fingers were warm against hers, and Selene had the irrational urge to hold on tighter, to
see if that warmth could stay.
Lila seemed to realize what she'd done at the same time Selene did. Her grip loosened, but she
didn't pull away.
"Your hands are cold," Lila murmured, her thumb brushing absently over Selene's knuckles.
Selene swallowed. She should move. She should say something.
But she didn't.
She just stared.
Lila's lips parted slightly, her expression unreadable. And for a moment—just a moment—it felt
like the world had slowed, like something unspoken hung between them, waiting.
Then, just as quickly as it had happened, Lila let go.
Selene exhaled.
The moment was gone, but the feeling remained.
And Selene knew, with startling clarity, that things between them would never be the same. ---
That night, Selene lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Her heart felt too full, like it was trying to tell her something before her brain could catch up.
She replayed the moment in the music room over and over, analyzing every tiny movement,
every flicker of emotion in Lila's eyes.
What did it mean?
And why did it feel so important?
She didn't have an answer.
But she wasn't sure she wanted to run from the question anymore. ---
The next day, Selene found herself searching for Lila in the crowded cafeteria.
She spotted her at their usual table, laughing at something one of her friends had said, her head
tilted back, eyes crinkled with amusement.
Selene's stomach did that stupid twisting thing again.
She hesitated, then took a deep breath and walked over.
Lila looked up as she approached, her expression brightening. "Hey, you're actually sitting with
us today?"
Selene rolled her eyes as she slid into the seat beside her. "Don't make it weird."
Lila grinned. "Too late."
The conversation around them continued, but Selene was only half-listening.
Because suddenly, Lila's leg was pressed against hers under the table.
Not an accident.
Not this time.
Selene didn't move away.
And neither did Lila.
A slow realization settled over Selene, spreading through her like the first notes of a song she
hadn't known she was waiting to hear.
She liked this.
She liked Lila.
The thought was startling and terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
She had no idea what to do with it.
But as she glanced at Lila—at the easy way she smiled, at the way her presence felt like
warmth in the middle of winter—she thought, maybe, she didn't have to figure it all out right
away.
Maybe, for now, she could just feel it.
And maybe, just maybe, Lila felt it too.