Page 138 of Ashen Souls

She stopped abruptly near the stairwell, catching my elbow to pull me out of the main stream of students.

“Well,” she said at last. “That was educational.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling, which only made it worse.

“You,” she continued, pointing at me with solemn accusation, “were supposed to talk to him. To clear a few things up. You were not supposed to reenact a Victorian scandal against the lectern.”

“It wasn’t planned,” I said, my fingers touching my lower lip.

“Oh, I could tell,” Harper replied. “That did not have the energy of ‘planned.’ That had the energy of ‘years of repressed longing exploding at an inconvenient time.’”

I winced. “It hasn't been years.”

“Semantics.”

We rejoined the flow of students heading down the stairs. My body was still thrumming with adrenaline. I could still taste the faint bitterness of his coffee. I could still feel the pressure of his fingers gripping the nape of my neck.

Harper leaned closer as we descended. “Be honest. Was that your first kiss?”

“Yes.”

She let out a long breath. “So, I just witnessed the emotional equivalent of a dam breaking.”

I glanced at her, expecting a smirk, but she was watching me with a softness.

“You look different. Not possessed or overwhelmed. Just… happier.”

The observation caught me off guard.

“I think I am,” I admitted. The sensation was so new to me it almost felt fragile. “I really am.”

Harper studied me for another moment before the corner of her mouth lifted. “Just don’t fall for him too fast, okay?”

“Too late.”

“Also, for the record, if he ever hurts you, I will absolutely ruin his academic career in a way that feels karmically appropriate.”

“That seems extreme.”

“Everything in your life is extreme,” she countered. “I am simply adapting.”

We pushed through the exit doors and stepped out into the crisp air of the courtyard.

“What is the plan now?” Harper went on, adjusting the strap of her bag. “Are we pretending this was an isolated academic anomaly, or are we entering the era of clandestine faculty-student tension?”

“I graduate in two months,” I replied.

“Ah.” She nodded gravely. “The countdown to ethical clarity.”

“What if he pulls back?” I asked. “What if this was… impulsive? And tomorrow he switches back into professor mode and pretends it didn’t happen. And what if Daeren knows about that kiss and decides to do something to Ethan?”

Harper’s expression sharpened. “First of all, did that feel impulsive to you?”

“No.”

“Then don’t rewrite it into something smaller than it was,” she said. “That was not a mistake. That was a decision. And if he retreats,” she continued, “at least you’ll know he’s choosing caution over indifference. There’s a distinct difference.”

She paused, her eyes narrowing as she caught the tail end of my panic. “Second of all, we went over this yesterday. If Daeren could, he would have gotten to Ethan by now, but he couldn't. So stop catastrophizing for five minutes and just enjoy this moment.”