Epilogue

It was a bright, sunny day, the kind where the sky seemed impossibly blue, not a single cloud in its vast expanse. The air was crisp and fresh, filled with the sweet, delicate scent of spring. Cherry blossoms fluttered in the breeze, their pale petals drifting like snowflakes, coating the ground in a soft ocean of pink.

Arrella felt a mix of excitement and unease bubbling inside her as she made her way through the crowded campus, her footsteps quick but purposeful. Her backpack hung carelessly over one shoulder, the weight of it a familiar comfort. The first day of the new term had just ended, and now the campus was alive with the buzz of students spilling out of their classrooms, their voices blending with the hum of distant conversations.

She rounded a corner, scanning the rooms she passed, her eyes flicking from door to door, searching for the right one. The chatter of students around her felt distant, almost muffled, as her thoughts were elsewhere, distracted by the rush of the day.

Something caught her eye on the floor—a leather-bound notebook, its surface worn and smooth from use. She bent down to pick it up, her fingers brushing the cool, weathered edges. But before she could grab it, a hand shot out in front of her, snatching the notebook with a swift motion.

"Whoops, that’s mine," a voice said, light and playful. Arrella looked up, surprised, meeting the eyes of a boy with wild red hair and a goofy grin that seemed to stretch across his face. His freckles danced in the sunlight, and there was an easy charm to him, like someone who never took life too seriously.

She offered a smile, shaking her head slightly, then turned to walk away, the echo of his voice lingering in the air behind her.

“It’s nice to see you, Arrella!” he called, the words carrying an odd familiarity.

She spun around, her heart giving a jolt, but when she looked, he was already gone—vanished into the crowd like he’d never been there.

Her footsteps quickened as she made her way down the hall, the faint scent of fresh paint filling her nose. She was close. At the end of the hall, she finally spotted the room she had been searching for. She pushed open the door, her pulse quickening in anticipation, and slammed into a hard wall.

A body stepped out of the room at the exact moment. Arrella squeezed her eyes shut, her face tightening. The sudden collision sent a jolt of pain through her nose, a sharp throb that made her gasp, the air momentarily knocked from her lungs. She staggered back a step, one hand flying up to her face as she tried to steady herself. The ache throbbed, slowly ebbing as she looked up to find a tall, dark-haired boy with chestnut brown eyes, his expression filled with a silent apology.

“Woah, sorry about that. Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.

She looked up. It was Aiden from the senior class—Jan’s new crush.

Arrella blinked, then slowly nodded, still feeling dazed.

He gave a quick nod, offering one last apologetic smile, before moving past her and disappearing down the hall.

She shook her head, then stepped into the Art Room. It was empty—just a few scattered chairs and tables, their surfaces bare. She wandered through the quiet space, her eyes drifting over the walls, each one adorned with vibrant canvases. But one painting in particular caught her attention, drawing her in like a magnet.

It was of a girl, nestled on a worn sofa near a crackling hearth. Her face was framed by overgrown vines and flowers—some spilling from pots, others climbing the walls—as if embraced by nature itself.

She stepped closer. What was striking was that the girl’s peaceful expression was captured from the perspective of a picture frame. It was quite intimate. Arrella felt as though she were peering into a private moment, frozen in time.

"Interesting, isn’t it?" a voice startled her from behind.

She turned, her pulse quickening. Standing there was a tall guy with tousled blonde hair, his eyes the color of the ocean on a stormy day.

She paused, taking in his presence as recognition flickered in her mind. Right, this was Aiden’s brother. Jan had shown her a picture earlier that day in class.

"Yeah," she replied, trying to steady herself. "It’s an interesting perspective."

He smiled, a small knowing grin, and she suddenly felt the weight of his gaze.

"Are you a first-year?" he asked, his voice smooth, a bemused smile playing at the edges of his words.

She nodded, slightly caught off guard.

He chuckled softly, a twinkle in his eyes as they crinkled. “I’m Rovin," he said, extending his hand. "It’s nice to meet you."

"Arrella," she answered, shaking his hand, a subtle thrill rushing through her. "Nice to meet you, too."

His smile widened, and for a moment, time seemed to slow, the world outside the room fading into the background.

“Well, Arrella,” he smirked, his voice low and teasing, “I hope you’re here to join the art club?”

There was a spark in his eyes, something unspoken, as though they shared a secret only the two of them understood.

She smiled, her heart full and breathless. A warmth spread through her as she met his gaze, feeling the pull of something new, something that hinted at a beginning.

“Yes, I am.”