Rose woke at three. She used to wake at five, but sleep was slipping away from her more and more. She burrowed into the blankets, pulling them tighter, hoping they'd coax her back into sleep. But it didn't work.

She'd had her usual eight hours—gone to bed early—but her body still felt heavy, unwilling to move. Meditation didn't call to her, her coffee ritual felt hollow, and even the thought of washing her face seemed exhausting. Everything took more effort than she had to give.

Still, she did it all. Slowly, it took her an hour. She pulled on her training clothes. She grabbed the door handle but couldn't turn it. The weight of what was waiting outside felt like too much.

She could handle Joyce and Giselle. Lim would keep his mouth shut; he didn't seem the type to gossip. But Felix? If she ran into him, what would she do? Tease him? She doubted she could.

"Don't overthink," she muttered to herself.

"Just go."

She pulled the door open. It was dark. Nobody else was awake. She stretched, jogged down the stairs, and stepped outside. The cold air felt good, sharp. After yesterday, it felt like a clean slate. She smiled a little, looking at the lights and the moon, half-hidden behind clouds.

Then she heard a crunch, a sound to her left. She turned to her left and closed her eyes. Please, let this be a dream.

"Good morning," Felix said. It wasn't a dream.

Felix was sitting against the wall, eating a peanut butter sandwich.

Rose wanted to run, to brush him off like a fly. But there he was, looking at her, biting into his sandwich at four in the morning.

"Good morning," she said.

"You're up early."

"Yeah."

He nodded. It was a lie; he wasn't up early. He hadn't slept at all. His conversation with Lim had been stuck in his head, playing repeatedly. He'd spent hours staring at the ceiling until he was hot and restless. He'd gone outside to eat, and then she'd shown up.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked. He was wearing just a shirt and shorts, not even any shoes.

"A bit." He patted the ground next to him. She looked at him, then shook her head and stood beside him instead.

"You haven't changed," he said, thinking of how she'd always been the first one up when she stayed at the Valerius mansion.

"Yeah," she said.

She didn't know what to say. Maybe "thank you," but it didn't sound like a compliment.

"So, about yesterday…" He glanced down, knowing it was better to get it out. Rose nodded, her face calm, though her heart was a storm.

"You know…would you want to hang out with me after classes today?"

Rose's head snapped toward him. He took another bite of his sandwich, hiding his red ears behind the food. Maybe it was the cold, but he looked almost…cute. She blinked.

Cute? Him? Snap out of it, Rose.

"Hang out?" She managed to get out. "Like…training or…?"

Felix shook his head.

"No, just going out. The two of us. No training or work. Just going somewhere."

Rose nodded. She tried to keep it cool, but her lips betrayed her, spreading into a smile. She wanted to say yes but held herself back. She didn't want to look easy.

"If I have time," she said. She lied. She had nothing to do—maybe sort out some documents, but she could push that onto someone else. She was the president, after all.

"Then how do I know you have time?" he asked.

Rose was surprised. He was being direct, almost like he was determined to see her there.

"Meet me at the Star Hall," she said.

"If I'm there, then I'll come."

Felix nodded. He got up. Rose moved left, but Felix closed in. He picked a leaf on her. He touched her shoulder, a light, brief touch.

"See you at the hall," he said, then turned and walked away.

Rose watched him go, feeling her chest tighten. She hadn't expected him to be so direct. Usually, he was guarded, the quiet type who didn't reach out first. But here he was, leaving her with the promise of something so casual yet laced with meaning. She stayed there a moment, unsure of what to make of it.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

But there was one thing she was sure of—Felix had asked her on a date, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

******

"Where are we going?" Rose asked.

"Art gallery. They say it's the best attraction in town." Felix replied.

He had heard some students gossip about it. And he had no idea where to take her, so it seemed the best option.

The Art Gallery?

Rose seemed a bit surprised. She looked at Felix and by how composed and clueless he looked, he didn't seem to have any idea about it.

As they walked together, many stared at them, like always. They tried not to make it obvious, but their occasional glances were clear signs. They were interested. But none had the guts to approach them.

At first, Rose wasn't bothered. This was an everyday thing. But not this time. The gossip flying around the school was going to be different. There would be speculations, some wild ones about the relationship between these two.

"Should we have gone another way?"Rose asked.

"It's fine. We can't keep running away from people who have nothing better to do, but just stare at others."

Felix made sure to say that out loud. The crowd cowered away in guilt and shame.

The two reached the town. Since the gallery was near, they didn't take a carriage or tram. They walked side by side.

Felix was the quiet type, who was always uninterested in anything, made small talk, or was tired too. Rose could tell. He was trying to be confident but could see he wasn't used to it. Being talkative wasn't like him.

Also, her behaviour wasn't much help. She answered most of his questions with "Yes." "I see" or chuckled occasionally.

It was awkward. Both knew. Felix didn't stop. He asked her questions, simple ones, cause he felt that's what mattered. To know about her, even if it's the simplest of things.

Until now, he knew her from the rumours. He wanted to find out about her from his observation and not from the whispers of others.

After about ten minutes, they reached the Art Gallery. It was a magnificent, white-marble building with grand columns and intricate carvings around the entrance. On the roof stood a statue of a man with a trident beside a small winged boy holding a bow and arrow. The statues cast long shadows across the entrance, giving the gallery an air of timeless mystery.

"Do you know who they are?" Felix asked.

"I have heard of them. The man with the trident is Poseidon, the god of Sea and Storms. He is somewhat of a mystery in a sense, because nobody has seen him and known which mythology he comes from. All we know is that his statues have been found in the ocean with the violence of storms and the largest tsunamis. And the boy with wings is Eros. He is the God of Love. "

Rose said.

Felix was impressed by her knowledge. They walked to the counter, to get their tickets. The receptionist, a man, recognized Felix as a noble, because of how clean and healthy he looked. But what surprised him was the girl beside him.

"Lady Ashbourne."

The man stood up and saluted. Recognizing Rose wasn't hard. Her white hair and red eyes cemented her name and blood. Once someone saw her, it was impossible to forget.

Rose nodded to the man, who quickly handed them their tickets. After passing through security, they stepped into the gallery.

The hall was wide and open, with high ceilings that gave it an airy feel. Platforms rose around the room, letting visitors view artwork placed at various heights. Paintings filled the walls, from large, dramatic pieces to smaller, intricate works. Glass cases dotted the space, each holding handcrafted ornaments and engravings that stood out under soft lighting.

Felix was underwhelmed by it. After all, art depended on the eye of the beholder and his eyes were cursed. He looked at Rose. She walked to the centre and looked around, the entire area.

"Where should we start?"

"From where you want," Felix replied.

Rose nodded as they moved around the gallery, working their way from right to left and then up the stairs. She paused before each painting, taking time to absorb it fully. Every small detail—the brushstrokes, the subtle shifts in colour, the texture of the canvas—drew her in. Everything she saw seemed to spark a quiet thrill, a deep appreciation that she couldn't hide.

"Felix, look, this one too. How did they manage to capture such lighting in such a small space?"

Rose's voice was full of excitement as she pointed out details, explaining techniques and colours with fascination. Felix just listened, unable to appreciate the art the way she did, but that didn't matter. He had never seen her this animated, so he was content to watch and listen.

After going around the hall, they reached the far end on the top floor. There was one large painting at the end, almost like a focal point. Felix wished he had seen it from afar, but now he stood beside Rose, who stared at it, a storm quietly brewing in her expression.

The painting was of a man in white armour, sword pointed toward the sky. His features were striking: white hair, red eyes, and a strong stance. It was Rose's father, Reginald Ashbourne. The resemblance was unmistakable, though his eyes in the painting looked even darker as if shadowed by something impenetrable. The man didn't feel like a person—more like a legend or a symbol.

"Let's go."

Rose's voice was quiet, almost hollow. She turned sharply and began walking. Felix didn't say anything and followed. He understood why she wanted to leave.

Outside, Felix suggested they go to a nearby café. She nodded, and soon they found themselves seated across from each other at a small table by the window. The waiter brought their order—two espressos and some fresh croissants.

Felix slid her coffee over, waiting for her to take the first sip.

Rose noticed this and offered him a small smile.

"It's not your fault," she said softly.

"If you'd known, you wouldn't have taken me. I was planning to come here on my own anyway, so… thank you for bringing me."

Felix nodded, taking a sip. He grimaced slightly.

"How can you like this?"

He'd ordered an espresso to have something in common with her, but he wasn't made for the bitterness. Rose chuckled as he reached for his water.

She watched him, noticing the calm in his expression, the steady tone of his voice. There was something in the green of his eyes that drew her in—a warmth beneath their cool surface.

Rose tapped his hand lightly.

"You know, there's another reason that gallery's popular."

"Why?" Felix raised an eyebrow.

"They say if a couple walks through the entrance at the same time, Eros blesses them with eternal love."

He looked at her hand on his for a moment, then smiled, his expression thoughtful.

"Did we walk in together? I don't think so. I went in early. Maybe next time we can sync our steps."

Rose felt her face warm as her ears reddened. She pulled her hand back, laughing awkwardly. Felix had answered her teasing in a way she hadn't expected. She didn't know this side of him.

It felt a little forced, but she didn't mind. Right now, it didn't matter. Her heart, usually calm, now fluttered like a bird's wings, and for a moment, the boy in front of her seemed to be the wind lifting it higher.