The university courtyard was alive with the usual buzz of students shuffling between classes. I walked beside Diarmid, who had his arm draped protectively across my shoulders, a subtle yet unmistakable gesture of claim. Brigit and Rhyian followed behind, laughing about something that only they seemed to find funny.
As we approached the cafeteria, a strange sensation washed over me—a mix of unease and familiarity. My steps faltered for a moment, and Diarmid noticed immediately.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, his blue-grey eyes scanning my face.
“I’m fine,” I lied, but my heart had started to race.
Then I saw him.
Standing near the far end of the courtyard, partially hidden by the shade of a tree, was Jaimes. His dark eyes were fixed on me, his expression unreadable. He looked just as I remembered him—sharp features, an air of confidence, but there was something new, something heavier in his stance.
I froze.
Diarmid’s arm tensed, and his gaze followed mine. “Who is that?”
“No one,” I said quickly, pulling my eyes away and forcing my feet to move forward.
Diarmid didn’t press, but I could feel the shift in his demeanor—a predator sensing a threat. He stayed close, his protective instincts on high alert.
Jaimes didn’t approach. He just stood there, watching. It was as if he was waiting for something—or someone—to make the first move.
I managed to slip away from Diarmid with a quick excuse. "I need to speak to my professor about an assignment," I said, avoiding his piercing gaze. He seemed hesitant but eventually nodded, letting me go.
The moment I was out of his sight, I made my way to the back of the building, where the staff offices were. One of Michael's warriors caught sight of me as I passed, his sharp eyes narrowing in curiosity. I gave him a small, reassuring smile and gestured subtly for him to follow. He did so without question, maintaining a safe distance but staying close enough to watch over me.
By the time I reached the coffee shop near campus, I spotted Josh and Leroy already seated at our usual corner table. The familiar hum of conversation and the comforting aroma of coffee wrapped around me like a warm blanket, but the tension in the air was palpable.
Josh and Leroy looked up as I approached, their anxious expressions breaking into relief when they saw me. Their usual playful banter was absent, replaced by furtive glances toward the door as if expecting someone to burst in.
I slid into the seat across from them, my heart racing. “What’s going on?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
Josh leaned in, his eyes darting toward the entrance. “Arwen, you’re not going to believe this…”
Leroy nodded, his voice a whisper. “We saw him. Jaimes. Outside the library.”
My stomach dropped. “You’re sure?”
Josh gave me a look. “Of course we’re sure. How could we not recognize him? He’s alive, Arwen. Alive.”
I let out a shaky breath, my hands gripping the edge of the table. “I saw him too. Earlier, on campus. He didn’t come up to me, but he was there.”
Leroy frowned, his tone incredulous. “What does he want? Why now? After all this time?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “He just stood there, watching me. Like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.”
Josh and Leroy exchanged uneasy glances.
“What did you feel when you saw him?” Josh asked. “Was it...like before?”
I hesitated, searching for the right words. “What do you mean, Josh?"
Leroy shook his head, his frustration evident. “This doesn’t make sense. Arwen, we were there when everything happened. How can he just show up now? Alive and well?”
“I don’t know,” I said again, my voice barely above a whisper.
Josh reached across the table, his hand covering mine. “My poor Arwen. Everything is going so well, between you and Diarmid.”
I nodded, trying to smile, but the unease in my chest wouldn’t go away.
Behind me, I could feel the faint presence of Michael’s warrior, standing just outside the shop, ever vigilant. But there was something else—a familiar pull, one that made my heart race.
Diarmid.
I didn’t dare turn around, but I knew he was there. Watching. Listening. He must have followed me or sensed my unease. My heart twisted at the thought of him overhearing our conversation.
Josh and Leroy didn’t seem to notice, their focus entirely on me.
“Promise us,” Leroy said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If he tries to talk to you, you won’t face him alone. You’ll call us. Or Diarmid. Okay?”
“I promise,” I said softly, my gaze dropping to the table.
Outside, I could sense Diarmid retreating, his presence fading like a shadow slipping into the night. My chest tightened. What had he heard? And what would he think?
As Josh and Leroy continued to talk, their voices blurred into the background. My mind was split between the past that had suddenly resurfaced and the present that seemed to grow more complicated by the second.
After our conversation at the coffee shop, I felt a little lighter but still weighed down by the unknowns surrounding Jaimes’ sudden reappearance. Josh and Leroy walked ahead, their chatter fading as they disappeared into their next class. I trailed behind, my steps slow and deliberate, the nervous energy in my chest bubbling with each step closer to my own class.
What would Diarmid say? Worse, what had he heard? My "escape" earlier was reckless, but I needed space to breathe and process. Now, I wasn’t sure how I’d explain myself.
As I rounded the corner toward my lecture hall, I spotted Finn and Roisin by the lockers, their animated conversation punctuated by Finn’s hearty laugh. They turned their heads when they noticed me approaching, and immediately, matching smirks spread across their faces.
“Oh, look who it is,” Roisin drawled, her voice light with teasing. “Our little escape artist.”
Finn leaned casually against the lockers, crossing his arms. “You’re braver than I thought, Arwen,” he said, his blue-grey eyes gleaming with mischief. “Not many people would dare sneak away from Mr. Big Bad Wolf himself.”
I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks flushed. “I didn’t sneak away. I just… stepped out for a bit.”
“Sure,” Roisin teased, dragging out the word. “And the fact that Diarmid has been brooding ever since is purely coincidental, right?”
My steps faltered, and I sighed. “Is he really upset?”
Finn chuckled. “Upset isn’t the word I’d use. Let’s just say he’s been… distracted. He doesn’t like not knowing where you are, Arwen.”
“He’s protective,” Roisin added, softer this time. “It’s not just about keeping you safe, you know. It’s about trust.”
I swallowed hard, guilt tugging at my chest. “I wasn’t trying to break his trust. I just needed to clear my head. That’s all.”
Finn tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more understanding. “You don’t have to explain yourself to us, but you might want to talk to him. Sooner rather than later.”
Roisin nodded, giving me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. He’s not mad. He just cares… a lot. More than he probably realizes.”
I glanced down the hallway, my heart pounding. “Where is he now?”
Finn and Roisin exchanged a knowing look before Finn gestured toward the stairwell. “He’s probably outside, near the quad. He said he needed air, but we all know what that means.”
“Brooding,” Roisin supplied with a grin.
I sighed, gripping the strap of my bag. “Thanks. I’ll go find him.”
As I walked past them, Roisin called out, his tone teasing once more. “Good luck, Arwen! Try not to break his heart, yeah?”
Finn chuckled, and I couldn’t help but smile despite my nerves. Whatever teasing they threw my way, I knew it came from a place of care.
Now, I just had to face Diarmid—and hope that my “escape” hadn’t left too deep a mark.
The quad was quieter than usual, the afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the campus. I spotted Diarmid instantly. He leaned against the railing of the stairs leading to the open lawn, his tall frame unmistakable even from a distance. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his posture tense, and his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance.
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I hesitated, my heart racing. Finn and Roisin’s words echoed in my mind. He cares… a lot. I swallowed hard and approached him, my footsteps light but deliberate.
As I got closer, he turned his head slightly, his blue-grey eyes locking onto mine. Relief flashed across his face for a split second before it hardened into something more guarded.
“You’re back,” he said, his voice low and controlled.
“I’m back,” I replied softly, stopping a few steps away.
He straightened, his hands leaving his pockets. “You didn’t tell me where you were going. Do you have any idea how—” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “You scared me, Arwen.”
Guilt twisted in my chest. “I didn’t mean to. I just needed to clear my head. I’m sorry, Diarmid.”
His jaw tightened, and he looked away. “You could’ve told me. I would’ve understood. But instead, you—” He stopped again, shaking his head as if trying to compose himself. “You don’t have to face everything alone, you know.”
“I know,” I said, stepping closer. “And I’m not trying to shut you out. I just… it’s hard sometimes, figuring out how to explain everything. I didn’t want to burden you.”
He let out a sharp breath, his eyes snapping back to mine. “You’re never a burden. Do you understand that? Never.”
The intensity in his gaze made my breath hitch. For a moment, I couldn’t find the words to respond. Instead, I took another step forward, closing the gap between us.
“Diarmid,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want you to worry about me like this. I’m here. I’m safe. And I promise I’ll try to do better.”
He frowned, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface. “It’s not just about being safe, Arwen. It’s about trust. You’re—”
I didn’t let him finish. Before he could say anything else, I reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck, and pressed my lips to his.
For a moment, he froze, caught off guard. But then, he responded, his hands finding their way to my waist, pulling me closer. The kiss was firm, grounding, and filled with unspoken emotions. When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my skin.
“Arwen,” he murmured, his voice softer now.
I smiled, my hands sliding down to his chest. “Did that help?”
He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”
“But you’re not brooding anymore,” I pointed out, a teasing lilt in my tone.
He sighed, his arms tightening around me. “No, I’m not. But don’t think this gets you off the hook. We’re going to talk about this later.”
“Fair enough,” I said, leaning into him.
For now, the tension between us eased, replaced by a quiet understanding.
The corridor leading to our next class was alive with the hum of students, laughter, and hurried footsteps blending into a background noise that I barely registered. Diarmid walked beside me, his presence steady, his calm confidence a shield I hadn’t realized I was leaning on.
As we rounded the corner, the world seemed to shift. Standing in our path, like a memory brought to life, was a figure I never thought I’d see again.
“Hi, Arwen,” Jaimes said, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. It was calm, familiar, and yet tinged with something unspoken.
My breath hitched. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe, how to move, how to even think. The world narrowed to him—the slight curve of his lips, the way his eyes seemed to search mine, as if looking for something only he could see. Memories surged, threatening to break through the careful barriers I’d built, but I forced them back with an iron will.
“Jaimes,” I managed, my voice steady—too steady, betraying the storm within. I was acutely aware of Diarmid beside me, his presence grounding me in the here and now.
Jaimes’ gaze flicked briefly to Diarmid, curiosity and something sharper flickering in his expression. The tension in the air was palpable, like the charged silence before a storm.
“How’s Nick?” Jaimes asked casually, though his words carried a weight I couldn’t ignore. “And Leroy? Josh? Are they still keeping you on your toes?”
“They’re… good,” I replied, my voice softer now, unsure. “Busy, like always.”
His lips curved into a faint smile, tinged with nostalgia. “Good to hear.” His attention lingered on me for a moment longer before shifting to Diarmid. The change was subtle but electric, as if the air itself braced for impact.
“And you are?” Jaimes asked, his tone polite but pointed, each word carefully chosen.
“Diarmid,” came the reply, even and unwavering. His blue-grey eyes locked onto Jaimes, his expression calm yet authoritative. “And you?”
“Jaimes.” The name was delivered with a quiet intensity, his gaze meeting Diarmid’s without hesitation. “An old friend of Arwen’s.”
The space between them felt like a battlefield, unspoken challenges passing between their calm exteriors. Diarmid’s posture shifted ever so slightly—shoulders squared, head held high. He was asserting himself without a single word, a silent declaration of his presence in my life.
“Nice to meet you,” Diarmid said, the words neutral but edged with steel.
“Likewise,” Jaimes replied, his tone a mirror of controlled civility.
The silence that followed was suffocating, each second stretching impossibly long. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to act. “We should get going,” I said quickly, stepping slightly ahead of Diarmid, my voice breaking the standoff. “Class is starting soon.”
Jaimes nodded, his gaze lingering on me, searching, as if he wanted to say more but chose not to. “Of course. It was good to see you, Arwen.” His voice softened at the end, carrying a bittersweet note that twisted something deep inside me.
With one last glance at Diarmid, Jaimes turned and disappeared into the crowd. I exhaled shakily, realizing only then how tightly I’d been gripping my bag.
Diarmid’s hand found the small of my back, his touch warm and steady. “Let’s go,” he said quietly, his voice low but firm.
I glanced up at him, catching the tension in his jaw, the storm brewing in his eyes. “Diarmid—”
“Not here,” he interrupted, his tone gentle but final.
I nodded, understanding. But as we walked on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jaimes’ reappearance was just the beginning. The silent exchange between him and Diarmid left no doubt in my mind—things were about to get a lot more complicated.
The drive back to Diarmid’s place was silent, the kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful but charged with unspoken tension. Diarmid kept his arm around me, but there was an edge to his hold—possessive and protective, yet distant.
The warriors trailed behind us, their presence a reminder of the ever-present dangers. Finn and Roisin occasionally glanced our way, their teasing smirks from earlier replaced with quiet concern. Even they could sense something was amiss.
By the time we stepped into his room, I could feel the weight of Diarmid’s mood pressing down on me. He shut the door with a little more force than necessary and immediately turned toward me.
I set my bag down and took a deep breath, already bracing myself for the inevitable.
“Arwen,” he began, his voice low but tense, “why didn’t you tell me?”
I frowned, confused. “Tell you what?”
“About him,” he said, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “About Jaimes.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Diarmid, I didn’t know he was alive. I thought he was dead.”
His jaw clenched, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “And yet, you didn’t say anything. You acted like his showing up didn’t throw you completely off balance.”
“Because I’m still trying to process it!” I said, my voice rising slightly. “I didn’t hide anything from you, Diarmid. I’m just as shocked as you are.”
“You didn’t even flinch when you saw him,” he countered, his jealousy slipping into his voice. “The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you—it’s obvious there’s history there.”
“Of course there’s history,” I snapped. “He was part of my life once, but that was a long time ago. Whatever we had, it ended the day he died. Or... the day I thought he died.”
Diarmid’s eyes softened for a moment, but his jealousy was still evident. “And now he’s back, and I’m supposed to just stand here and pretend it doesn’t bother me?”
I stepped closer to him, frustration bubbling up. “Diarmid, this isn’t about you or him. This is about me trying to figure out how someone I thought was dead is suddenly alive.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked away, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he muttered. “Like he still has a claim on you.”
My heart softened at his words, and I reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Diarmid,” I said gently, “there’s nothing between Jaimes and me anymore. Whatever we had, it’s over.”
He didn’t respond, his eyes still distant.
After the tense conversation with Diarmid, I felt drained and overwhelmed. He’d left the room without another word, his shoulders stiff and his usual calm demeanor replaced with a brooding silence that lingered like a storm cloud. I wanted to chase after him, to explain everything better, but my words had failed me.
Instead, I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, staring at the messages I had just sent to my parents. No response yet. I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me.
Deciding I couldn’t sit there any longer, I made my way downstairs to the living room. The sound of laughter and casual chatter drifted through the house, pulling me toward a welcome distraction.
Brigit, Finn, Roisin, and Rhyian were sprawled across the couches, immersed in what looked like a very heated argument over a board game. Finn was grinning smugly, clearly winning, while Roisin threw a pillow at him in mock frustration.
“Hey, Arwen!” Brigit called, patting the empty space beside her. “Come join us! We’re trying to prove to Finn that his so-called ‘winning streak’ is pure luck.”
I managed a small smile and sat down, grateful for their energy. “Sure, I could use a distraction.”
“Distraction from what?” Rhyian asked, raising an eyebrow as she shuffled the cards. “Does this have to do with Mr. Broody upstairs?”
“Rhyian!” Brigit chided, though her teasing smile betrayed her.
I sighed, leaning back against the couch. “It’s... complicated. And yeah, a little bit about him.”
Finn chuckled. “Let me guess, he’s all moody because of you?”
“Not helping, Finn,” Brigit said, though she looked at me with sympathy. “But seriously, what’s on your mind? You’ve been looking like you’re carrying the weight of the world since we got home, well the two of you.”
I hesitated, glancing around at their expectant faces. This wasn’t something I’d ever imagined discussing, but maybe they could offer some perspective.
“Okay, so... do you remember when I mentioned Jaimes?” I began carefully.
“The dead ex-boyfriend?” Brigit asked, narrowing her eyes. “What about him?”
“He’s back,” I said quietly. “I saw him today. He’s alive.”
Their reactions were immediate—Brigit’s eyes widened in shock, Rhyian’s jaw dropped, and Finn let out a low whistle.
“Wait, back? Like, back from the dead?” Roisin asked incredulously.
I nodded. “That’s what I thought too, but... he was there. In the flesh. And I don’t know how or why, but it’s messing with my head.”
“Diarmid knew about this?” Brigit asked gently.
“Yes he was with me when Jaimes talked to me.” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. “He’s upset about Jaimes being around, and I didn’t want to make things worse.”
“Ah,” Finn said knowingly. “So that’s why he’s in brood mode. He thinks you’re keeping things from him.”
“What? I am not!” I said, guilt creeping into my voice. “ I’m so confused. How can he come back, alive? I grieve and look for him for so long."
Rhyian reached over and gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “First of all, you don’t have to have it all figured out right now. Second, it sounds like you need to sit Diarmid down and explain everything. He’s stubborn, yeah, but he’ll listen if it’s you.”
“And third,” Brigit added, her tone warm but firm, “you need to give yourself some grace. You’ve been through a lot, Arwen. It’s okay to feel lost."
“Thanks, guys,” I said, feeling a little lighter.
“And if Diarmid gets too grumpy,” Roisin said with a smirk, “just kiss him again. That’ll shut him up.”
“Roisin!” Brigit and Rhyian said in unison, throwing pillows at him.
I laughed despite myself, the tension in my chest easing slightly. Maybe they were right. Maybe I didn’t need all the answers right now.
For now, I would take it one step at a time, starting with a real conversation with Diarmid. I owed him that much.