Chapter 1: A New Term, A New Me
I am Happiness Ross, and this is my story. I’m in Year 10 now, officially a “senior junior,” or so everyone at Eastwick Boarding School likes to call it. The school itself was ancient—its ivy-clad stone walls whispered history with every crack and crevice, the dormitories groaned under their own age, and the corridors echoed with secrets that seemed to linger long after footsteps faded. Honestly, it could give anyone goosebumps. Yet, for me, it felt like home. Mostly.
The first morning back after summer break felt… different. There was an unfamiliar thrill in the air, a tension that made the old stone halls seem alive, as if they were waiting for something unseen to happen. I tugged at the collar of my blazer, adjusting it carefully in the reflection of the hall mirror, trying not to look like a total newbie. The polished floors glinted in the sunlight filtering through tall windows, and the faint scent of old wood mingled with wax polish, a smell that made me feel both comforted and restless.
Stepping into the Great Hall, I was greeted by the familiar aroma of toast and cinnamon, undercut with the faint floral note that always seemed to linger in Eastwick’s kitchens. And then I saw him.
Theo.
Tall, with hair the color of midnight and eyes that seemed to pierce straight through the crowd, he moved with effortless confidence, every step precise, every gesture casual yet commanding. I didn’t mean to stare, but I couldn’t look away. My stomach did somersaults as I watched him laugh at a joke I couldn’t hear, and I imagined what it would be like to speak to him, to hear his voice. Of course, that was impossible. He didn’t know I existed.
Later that afternoon, Tilly and I were heading toward the library. The corridors were unusually quiet, the echo of our footsteps bouncing softly off the stone walls. “Wait for me!” Tilly called suddenly, darting back. “I need to grab something from the drawers!”
I nodded, slowing my pace. She disappeared around the corner, leaving me alone with the shadows stretching along the walls. The quiet made the school feel larger than ever, its endless corridors twisting like a labyrinth of history and whispered secrets. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, creating long, narrow patterns on the stone floor, and I felt a shiver of anticipation—as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
By the time I reached the library, Tilly had vanished among the towering stacks of books-The Tilly way- I wandered slowly between the shelves, pretending to be absorbed in the titles, but my eyes kept drifting toward a familiar figure slouched in the corner—Theo.
He was asleep.
My heart skipped a beat. The sharp, untouchable confidence that usually radiated from him was gone, replaced by the gentle rise and fall of his chest in quiet slumber. Vulnerable. Peaceful. I couldn’t look away.
I stepped a little closer, careful not to make a sound. My fingers brushed a book on the shelf, and it scraped faintly against the floor. His eyes flickered open, sharp and dark, immediately locking on mine.
“You’re watching me sleep now?” he said, voice teasing but edged with suspicion.
I flushed, stumbling over my words. “I—I didn’t mean to—”
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Of course you didn’t. Keep telling yourself that.”
“I… I just didn’t think anyone would be here. I was looking for books,” I stammered.
His gaze softened ever so slightly, though the smirk lingered. “Right. Just books. Sure. You’re one of those secret admirers, aren’t you?”
“I’m not!” I whispered, desperate. “I’m not watching you or anything. I just—”
“Of course,” he interrupted with a short laugh. “Curiosity can be dangerous at Eastwick. Especially when it comes in quiet, persistent packages.”
"What do you mean?" I said silently, but loud enough for him to hear me.
“You’re persistent,” he muttered under his breath, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear.
“I… I guess,” I said, barely able to meet his gaze.
And in that tiny exchange, I felt it—the quiet spark that had begun between us, fragile, tentative, and entirely new.
When I returned to the dorm that evening, the corridors were bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, shadows stretching long across the stone floors. Tilly had vanished somewhere—no doubt caught up in some mischief or errands—but I was left with the quiet of the dorm and my thoughts.
Dropping my bag onto the worn chair by the window, I leaned against the sill, exhaling shakily. The library encounter replayed in my mind—the subtle teasing, the way his gaze lingered, the soft voice when he said, “You’re persistent.” My chest fluttered in a way that left me both thrilled and terrified.
I opened my notebook, hoping words might soothe the rush of emotion, but the pages remained blank. Every thought drifted back to him—his effortless confidence, the quiet intensity, the way he seemed to notice things I didn’t even realize I was doing.
No doubt, this semester will be something else, dozing off while looking up at the ceiling.
The next morning, sunlight poured through the tall dorm windows, gilding the room in soft gold. I blinked awake, stretching under the covers, half-lost in dreams of Theo, his teasing smile, the way he had watched me in the library. My chest still fluttered.
“Morning, sleepyhead!” a cheerful voice called.
I jolted upright. Tilly.
She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, rummaging through her bag as if she hadn’t left the room at all last night. “Didn’t you hear me coming back?” she asked, grinning. “I had a midnight book emergency—had to rescue some history books from collapsing. Typical, right?”
“Wait… you were gone last night,” I said, confused.
“I know!” she said, waving her hands dramatically. “But nothing disastrous happened. I’m back now. Come on! Breakfast, first classes, and who knows what secrets Eastwick has in store today.”
I swung my legs off the bed, brushing my hair, and tried to steady my racing thoughts. Theo. Even the mundane routine of breakfast seemed irrelevant compared to the quiet intensity of yesterday’s library encounter.
By the time I entered the first classroom, sunlight slanted through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor. Students were settling in when I saw him—Theo.
He was sitting near the back, slouched in his chair, effortless and commanding as ever. And he was looking at me.
My stomach lurched. For a moment, I feared he would turn away, dismiss me as he had the first day. But his eyes held mine, sharp, steady, and with a trace of curiosity I couldn’t name.
I froze in the doorway, aware of every sound: the rustle of papers, the creak of chairs, the faint ticking of the clock. Tilly whispered to a friend two rows ahead, oblivious to the electric tension in my corner.
I swallowed and moved to my seat, without grabbing too much attention, trying not to let him see that I was captivated. But it was impossible. Every so often, our eyes met, and each time, my pulse quickened, my heart caught, and the room seemed to fade around us.
The teacher began speaking, but the words barely reached me. All I could register was Theo, still watching, still noticing, and perhaps beginning to see me in a way that made my chest ache with anticipation.
When he tilted his head slightly, just enough to catch my gaze again, I felt it—the quiet thrill that our story was beginning, slowly, deliberately, and impossibly more than I cared to admit.
By Friday, the week had passed in a blur of classes, hallways, and lingering glances. I had almost begun to forget the sharp, teasing way Theo had watched me, almost—until the weather reminded me.
The sky had darkened abruptly that afternoon, heavy clouds rolling over Eastwick’s ivy-covered walls. Within minutes, rain began to drum against the tall windows of the Great Hall, sending a shiver through the students gathered inside.
“Perfect timing,” Tilly muttered, wrinkling her nose. “Just when I didn’t want to get wet.” She looked up surprised, “I think i have an umbrella in my locker, wait for me my pookie friend” and she dashed off.
I laughed softly, glancing toward when she dashed off then, then froze. Across the hall, near the library doors, Theo stood under the archway, watching the rain cascade down. His dark hair was damp at the edges-probably wet-strands sticking to his forehead, and a faint frown tugged at his features. He looked… different somehow—less untouchable, more real, more human, much more cute.
He noticied me, i was in disbelief as he mouted "Come to the library", Don't know what i was thinking but i know i entered like an obedient, scared dog. Closing the door behind me and sitting down silently next to him, we settled into the corner together, the space small enough that our shoulders brushed once or twice. The library felt like another world, insulated from the storm outside. I found it harder to focus on books than on him.
Minutes passed in quiet companionship, the only sound the soft patter of rain on the windows. I dared to glance at him, and he met my gaze, dark eyes thoughtful and unexpectedly tender. The distance between us shrank almost imperceptibly, and I felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the storm outside.
Then, a sudden click echoed through the library. I looked up—and froze. The main doors had shut behind us. Locked.Thats weird that never happaned.
“Uh…” I swallowed nervously, heart racing. “Are we… locked in?”
Theo’s lips curved into a teasing smile, though there was no malice in it. “Seems like it.” He rose and walked toward me, each step measured, deliberate.When trying to open the door, he moved closer to me trying to me, i didn't like it.I was about to snap but i tripped over on him, my body on top of him, every seconds all i know was my heart is on fire.He moved closer to my lips just a inch apart for it to be a kiss,a KISS.
“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked softly, voice low, carrying a weight that made my chest thump.
“I… I don’t think so,” I murmured, my voice almost disappearing.
He tilted his head, studying me for a heartbeat that stretched impossibly long. And then, just as quietly, he leaned closer. The world seemed to tilt—the scent of rain and old books, the soft dim light from the lamps, the warm press of his shoulder near mine.
And then it happened.
His lips brushed mine in a kiss that was gentle, tentative, testing, and yet it felt inevitable. I froze for a fraction of a second, then melted into it, heart hammering as if it had been waiting for this very moment.
When we pulled apart, just enough to breathe, he rested his forehead against mine, eyes half-closed, and whispered, “I’ve been waiting to do that for a while.”
I smiled, cheeks burning, unable to form words, but the warmth in my chest said it all.
The rain continued to pour outside, the library locked and quiet, and for the first time, I felt entirely, irrevocably—seen.
