The park was peaceful, the sound of birds overhead mingling with the faint rustle of wind through the trees.

  Hazel let the quiet settle around her, the familiar scent of grass and earth grounding her in a world that felt distant but still hers.

  She walked slowly, her pace matching the gentle rhythm of the day. The sun, now lower in the sky, cast long shadows that made the world feel a little softer, a little less sharp.

  Beside her, Alex moved with an effortless grace, her eyes scanning the horizon as if there was something out there she was always aware of, always waiting for. It wasn’t that she seemed uneasy, just... attuned. A predator in disguise.

  Stel bounced along ahead, her energy almost electric as she spun around to look at the flowers in the flowerbeds and the small families pying nearby.

  “Wow, the flowers here are so pretty. It’s like the whole pce is on dispy.” She grinned at Hazel, her voice rising with excitement. “You know, I always forget how nice it is to be outside. Maybe I should come here more often.”

  “Maybe,” Hazel replied, her tone cool but affectionate as she gnced at her sister. “But you’re always rushing off somewhere, always busy.”

  “I know, I know,” Stel said, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “But it’s just... I don’t know. College, all the people, the noise. I could do with a bit more peace like this.”

  She looked around, her gaze lingering on the trees. “I forget that the world can feel quiet sometimes.”

  “I get that,” Alex chimed in, her voice smooth, as though she was used to quiet moments like these. “It’s like... everything moves, but sometimes you need to be still to appreciate it.”

  Hazel said nothing, her attention drifting to the distant horizon. She had seen the world move in a simir way for so long, but now, everything felt different.

  Her sense of time had stretched and warped since the change, but this... this was something else. It was almost like being caught between two worlds — the one she had left behind, and the one she was forced to navigate now.

  “Maybe you two should come here more,” Stel said, now walking backwards as she talked. “It’s not like we’re always surrounded by nature, and it’s kind of nice, right? We should get out more, especially with everything that’s going on.”

  Hazel gnced at her sister, letting the warmth of the moment sink in for just a second before answering. “Maybe,” she repeated, but there was something unspoken in her voice.

  The virus, the change, had pushed them all in different directions, and though they could share moments like this, there was still a divide. Hazel felt it — the distance between who she was and who she once was.

  Stel, oblivious to her sister's internal thoughts, was too caught up in her own excitement. “There’s that cute little café we passed on the way here. Maybe we could grab something after? I could use a cup of tea... or coffee. I’m sure it’d be more fun with the three of us.”

  Hazel and Alex exchanged a brief gnce, an unspoken understanding passing between them. “Maybe,” Alex replied, her smile easy. “I’m fine with anything.”

  “Alright,” Hazel said, giving a slight nod. “We’ll see.”

  They continued to walk, their pace leisurely, the world around them a blur of greenery and quiet life. Hazel, for a moment, felt something like normalcy, though she knew better than to fully embrace it.

  This world, the one with her sister and Alex, was a strange new reality — a pce she was still figuring out how to navigate.

  But at least, for now, the silence of the park, the quiet hum of the world, was something she could lose herself in.

  The café’s familiar warmth greeted them as the trio stepped inside, the door’s soft chime announcing their arrival.

  Hazel moved with her usual composure, holding the door open for Stel and Alex, the tter offering a quiet thanks as she stepped through, brushing past with her typical effortless grace.

  Alex was already drawing gnces — not from anything she did, but simply by existing. Her presence was striking but never boastful, her red-brown waves framing her face like a curated portrait, and a subtle smile pying on her lips as she took in the café’s cozy interior.

  She leaned down slightly to murmur something to Stel, who giggled, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks as they walked toward their table.

  Hazel followed behind, watching with half-lidded eyes — not jealous, not annoyed. Just observant. Alex was pying a game, and Stel was charmed, but Hazel knew the pace.

  She knew Alex wasn’t here to feed or manipute. She was curious, maybe even sincere. And in her own way, Hazel appreciated the performance.

  They sat near the window, the te sun filtering through and lighting the dark cquer of the table in warm hues.

  Alex let her coat fall behind her as she settled in beside Stel, her posture always that perfect bance of rexed and poised.

  “I wasn’t sure if I’d like this pce,” Alex said, eyeing the chalkboard menu. “But it feels... comfortable.”

  “Told you it was nice.” Stel said, while Hazel brushed her hair back behind one ear as she sat opposite them. Her amber-gold gaze met Alex’s for a heartbeat. “Not every good thing needs to be dramatic.”

  Stel reached for a menu, then offered it to Alex. “If you’re going to get anything, it should be the croissants. I swear they put something addictive in them.”

  Alex raised a brow, lips twitching. “Careful saying things like that around people like me.”

  Hazel sipped her tea without a word, eyes glittering with subtle amusement.

  Stel grinned, rolling her eyes. “I meant butter. Obviously.”

  Alex rested her chin on her hand again, watching Stel with a soft, almost thoughtful expression. “You’re a fun one.”

  “I'm her sister,” Hazel added. “Unfortunately, that includes sharing her.”

  Alex leaned slightly across the table, gaze steady on Hazel. “I don’t mind sharing.”

  That earned a pyful gnce from Hazel, who merely lifted her teacup in response. “Mm.”

  The conversation drifted with ease, Stel more talkative now, animated by the café’s comfort and Alex’s attention.

  Hazel remained calm, her voice rarely raised, but when she spoke, it was with deliberate softness — the sort that commanded attention without demanding it.

  As the sunlight shifted and shadows stretched across the café floor, the three sat together like a carefully composed painting — the vibrant human, the graceful newcomer, and the elegant observer.

  It was a quiet scene, but one with yers — history, curiosity, and the beginning of something slowly taking root.

  The te afternoon light had mellowed, casting golden lines across the table as their conversation began to wind down.

  The once-busy café had quieted, leaving behind the comforting hum of soft music and the clink of cups.

  Stel leaned back in her seat, visibly rexed, her ughter still lingering from something Alex had just said.

  Alex, ever composed, gave a final sip to her untouched drink — more for show than taste — before setting the porcein cup down with elegant precision.

  “It’s been lovely,” she said, her eyes flicking from Hazel to Stel. “But I should be going. I promised someone I’d check in before dusk.”

  Stel sat up slightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh—would it be weird if I asked for your number?”

  Alex tilted her head, a small, amused smile touching her lips before she looked to Hazel. Not as a formality — but out of respect. “Would that be alright?”

  Hazel gave a faint, graceful shrug, her expression unreadable for a heartbeat, then softened. “She’s her own person,” she said, voice smooth as silk. “But yes. I don’t mind.”

  Alex pulled her phone out with a fluid motion and passed it across the table. Stel, nearly glowing with excitement, typed in her number and handed it back with a bright grin.

  “I’ll text you,” she said, then paused. “If that’s okay.”

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” Alex replied, standing from her seat with effortless poise. “Take care of each other.”

  With that, she turned and left — not rushed, not lingering. Just drifting through the café with a grace that made others turn to look, and disappearing out the door like a breath fading in the cool evening air.

  Hazel watched her go, then looked over at Stel, who was now staring dreamily at the door.

  Hazel raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a teasing smile. “You know,” she said, folding her hands neatly in her p, “at this rate, it’s going to be you who ends up falling for her.”

  Stel turned pink immediately. “Wh-what? I just think she’s interesting!”

  Hazel leaned forward just slightly, voice warm and calm. “That’s how it always starts.”

  She stood and picked up her coat with nguid grace. “Come on. Let’s head home before you float out of here on a cloud.”

  Still flustered, Stel scrambled after her. “I am not floating!”

  Hazel just smiled faintly to herself as they exited together — the teasing gentle, the bond between them quietly strengthened by the encounter.

  The sun had dipped below the skyline by the time they returned home. The apartment was awash in the soft glow of ambient lighting, shadows stretching long across the floor.

  The evening air felt cooler now, a calm stillness settling in as Hazel set her keys down on the side table and quietly slipped out of her coat.

  Stel flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, the kind that suggested emotional overload more than actual fatigue. “Today was... a lot,” she mumbled, hugging a pillow to her chest.

  Hazel passed by behind her, pausing just long enough to gently smooth a hand over Stel’s head. “Good or bad?” she asked, already making her way into the kitchen.

  “Good,” Stel said with a sheepish smile. “Just—Alex is cool. You’re cool. I feel like the only boring human in a room full of elegant vampires.”

  Hazel returned with a gss of water, offering it to her sister with an amused tilt of her head. “You’re not boring. You’re very... animated.”

  “That sounds like a polite way of saying ‘chaotic.’”

  “It is,” Hazel replied smoothly, taking a seat beside her.

  A quiet moment followed — not awkward, just full of soft breaths and unspoken thoughts. The kind of silence that came easily between people who trusted one another.

  Finally, Hazel broke it. “You’ve got csses in the morning, don’t forget.”

  “I know.” Stel pouted faintly.

  “Are you coming back to campus soon?” Stel asked, casually spinning a spoon between her fingers as they both sat in the quiet of the evening.

  Hazel leaned back, folding one leg over the other with unthinking poise. Her eyes softened, focused not on the question, but on the feeling of returning. “Yes,” she said finally. “Tomorrow.”

  Stel blinked, then smiled wide. “Seriously? You’re actually going?”

  Hazel’s expression remained serene, though there was a subtle spark in her gaze. “It’s time.”

  Stel nudged her pyfully with her foot. “You’re going to cause such a scene. I’ll need to clear a path through your admirers just to reach the lecture hall.”

  Hazel gave a faint, amused sigh. “That sounds tiresome. Maybe you should walk ahead and pretend not to know me.”

  They both ughed, the sound light and familiar, echoing softly in the stillness of their home. Outside, the city was winding down beneath a darkening sky, but inside, everything felt steady.

  Hazel stood, smoothing the hem of her top. Her eyes flicked to Stel, lingering on the faint smudges under her eyes. “Go shower. You’ll fall asleep with your makeup on again.”

  Stel huffed but stood up with a stretch. “Fine, fine. Don’t boss me around just because you’re finally rejoining society.”

  Hazel’s smirk was faint but unmistakably fond. “Someone has to keep you presentable.”

  With a quiet ugh, Stel padded down the hall, and Hazel remained a moment longer in the dim light—composed, watching shadows stretch across the floor like the closing of a curtain. Tomorrow, the curtain would rise again.

  And she’d be ready.