The bathroom lights flickered softly to life as Hazel stepped in, bare feet silent against the tile. Morning filtered through the frosted window in a cool, gray hue—muted but steady.

  She didn’t sweat, not anymore, but that hadn’t stopped the ritual. The water ran warm as she prepared it, steam curling around the edges of the mirror.

  She unfastened her robe and slipped it from her shoulders with the grace of someone used to silence. Hazel moved like a shadow cast by candlelight—fluid, deliberate.

  Her fingers combed through her bck hair, loosening the strands before she stepped into the shower, the stream falling over her porcein skin. She let it run longer than necessary, indulging in the texture of heat and the illusion of normalcy.

  Soap and shampoo were chosen not for necessity, but for scent—notes of vender and sandalwood clinging to her skin like a gentle veil.

  Even her body, perfected by Hemotropis luxura, retained the shape of care: smooth, sculpted, unnervingly precise. But it was the routine that grounded her.

  She dried slowly, wrapping herself in soft cotton. At the mirror, she brushed her hair, watching it fall straight and dark against the white towel around her shoulders.

  Her eyes—amber-gold with that subtle inhuman shimmer—met her own gaze. Not with vanity. With acknowledgment.

  “You’re still here,” she murmured to her reflection. Then she turned and left the room, already prepared to step back into the world.

  Hazel had just begun tying the sash of her robe when a light knock sounded on the bathroom door—three quick taps, impatient but familiar.

  “Hazel? You’re not turning the bathroom into a steam room again, are you?” Stel’s voice carried through, bright and teasing.

  Hazel opened the door smoothly, her silhouette framed in the soft glow of morning light and lingering mist. “No fog on the mirrors this time, I promise.”

  Stel’s green eyes flicked over her sister—dark hair perfectly brushed, skin radiant in a way that felt too fwless to be fair. “You shower longer than I do, and I’m the one with a pulse.”

  Hazel smiled, amused. “Cleanliness is a virtue.”

  “And being fashionably te is a hazard,” Stel said, already turning on her heel. “Hurry up, I’m making eggs. Again.”

  “I’ll be out soon. Don’t burn them.”

  “I only did that once!” Stel’s voice called from down the hall.

  Hazel let the door close behind her, a faint smile still on her lips. For all the change she had endured, that easy rhythm with Stel remained untouched—anchoring her in a life that no longer entirely belonged to her.

  Hazel moved to her bedroom, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains in pale shafts. The silence here felt different from the rest of the apartment—more personal, more guarded.

  Her wardrobe was a quiet rebellion against the new world she inhabited. She selected a simple bck blouse, soft fabric that clung just enough to suggest shape without demanding attention.

  Paired with well-fitted dark jeans, the outfit was casual but carefully chosen. Nothing fshy, nothing that screamed “vampire.”

  She slid into the clothes with practiced ease, the sensation of fabric against skin oddly grounding. A thin silver chain—her only accessory—rested lightly around her neck, catching the light as she moved.

  Hazel caught her reflection in the full-length mirror. The bck hair framed her face like a shadow; her amber eyes held steady and calm. Not quite the person she had been, but not a stranger either.

  With a st gnce, she turned away, ready to face the day.

  Hazel stepped into the kitchen, the faint aroma of scrambled eggs and toast still lingering in the air. Stel had already left for her room to get ready, leaving behind a small stack of dishes on the counter.

  With a quiet sigh, Hazel filled the sink with warm water and started washing. The steady rhythm of her hands moving over ptes and cups grounded her thoughts, a calming counterpoint to the nervous anticipation knotting her stomach.

  Finished, she dried her hands and moved to the coat rack by the door. Slipping her bag over one shoulder, she gnced around the apartment—a brief moment of calm before the world outside pulled her back.

  Footsteps echoed softly from the hallway as Stel appeared, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and fshing a bright smile.

  “Ready?” Hazel asked, voice smooth but steady.

  Stel nodded, grabbing her own bag. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Together, they stepped out into the morning light, side by side—different in so many ways, yet still bound by the thread of sisterhood.

  The morning air was crisp as Hazel and Stel stepped out onto the sidewalk, the city already humming softly around them.

  Stel chatted easily, her voice bright as she pointed out small details—the blooming flowers in window boxes, a dog trotting by with its owner—but Hazel mostly listened, her steps measured and sure.

  They walked side by side, the gap between them comfortable yet charged with unspoken things.

  Hazel’s senses picked up the familiar scents of urban life mixed with the subtle traces of blood and warmth that her changed body noticed keenly now.

  Stel’s human energy was a steady contrast to Hazel’s calm, almost predatory grace.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” Hazel said finally, her voice low but sincere.

  Stel smiled. “Of course. Besides, who else is going to keep an eye on you?”

  As Hazel and Stel approached the campus gates, the usual buzz of student chatter and footsteps filled the air. But even amid the throng, Hazel drew attention — though she neither sought it nor minded.

  Her tall, poised figure moved with an effortless grace, bck hair framing her face like a shadow, and eyes that caught the light with an almost unnatural amber gleam.

  A few students nearby stole gnces, their whispers faint but unmistakable. Who’s that? Is she new? She looks… different.

  Some watched with curiosity, others with a hint of unease, as if sensing something just beyond their understanding. Her presence was magnetic and unsettling in equal measure.

  Stel caught one particurly bold gaze and nudged Hazel gently. “Don’t let them rattle you,” she said with a teasing smile.

  Hazel offered a small, serene smile in return. “They don’t know what they’re looking at.”

  Despite the stares, Hazel’s stride never faltered. She carried herself like someone who had learned to navigate worlds both familiar and strange — a predator wrapped in elegance, blending the human and the otherworldly in one smooth motion.

  As they made their way deeper into campus, Hazel’s senses remained alert, attuned to the subtle rhythms and scents of the crowd — a constant reminder that, while she walked among them, she was not quite like them anymore.

  The interior courtyard of the campus was awash in warm sunlight, students gathering in clusters around benches and under trees.

  Conversations overpped, phones buzzed, books were pulled from backpacks — the usual start-of-week chaos. But when Hazel passed through the main arch, the change in atmosphere was palpable.

  A few students paused mid-sentence. Others shifted their attention, eyes drawn to her the way moths flickered toward fme. There was nothing overtly supernatural in Hazel’s expression, no visible mark of what she was.

  But the sharp symmetry of her face, the unnatural stillness in her gaze, and the controlled elegance of her stride all told a quiet, instinctual truth. She wasn’t like them.

  “Hazel?”

  A familiar voice cut through the murmurs. One of Stel’s cssmates — a girl with a pixie cut and too much eyeliner — blinked at her. “You look... different.”

  “She was sick,” Stel interjected quickly, linking her arm through Hazel’s. “But she’s better now. And she’s back.”

  Hazel tilted her head slightly, offering a polite smile. “I’m feeling like myself again.”

  The girl gave an uncertain nod, gncing between them before hurrying off to css, clearly unsure if she’d imagined the quiet pressure Hazel’s presence left behind.

  As they reached the main academic building, Stel gave Hazel a small nudge. “See? Easy. You didn’t turn anyone into a bat or anything.”

  “Tempting,” Hazel said dryly. “But no.”

  Stel ughed and squeezed her arm before letting go. “I’ve got econ first. You okay on your own?”

  Hazel nodded. “I’ll find my way.”

  Stel disappeared into the crowd, leaving Hazel at the edge of the day’s first test — to walk among the living like she hadn’t changed.

  The lecture hall wasn’t full yet when Hazel stepped inside, but her entrance turned more than a few heads.

  The low hum of conversation softened as she crossed the room, her boots barely making a sound against the polished floor.

  She moved with an air of self-possession, choosing a seat near the back where she could watch without being the center of it.

  The professor gnced up from their notes, offering a distracted nod. Students whispered. One boy two rows ahead shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his neck prickling without quite knowing why. A girl nearby stared too long before quickly pulling out her notebook to look busy.

  Hazel ignored them.

  Her senses stretched across the room like threads — the rhythm of hearts, the scent of shampoo and stress sweat, the faint metallic aroma of blood beneath the surface. It was background noise now, manageable, but never truly silent.

  She set her bag down and crossed her legs with deliberate poise. Her fingers brushed against the edge of the desk, cool and smooth under her touch.

  The lights above buzzed faintly. The windows framed a sliver of campus green, where someone tossed a frisbee zily into the morning air.

  A girl slid into the seat beside her. She hesitated a moment too long before saying, “Hey, uh... is this seat taken?”

  Hazel turned slightly, her golden-amber eyes meeting the girl’s with gentle precision. “It’s yours,” she said, voice soft and melodic.

  The girl smiled nervously. “Thanks. You’re… new? I haven’t seen you before.”

  “Just returning,” Hazel replied. “Had to take a little time off.”

  She left it at that, and the girl nodded, satisfied but still vaguely uneasy, like she’d stepped too close to a fire she didn’t understand.