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chapter one.
ㅤ ㅤ
𝕺𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗'𝖘 first taste of belonging to something bigger came courtesy of Gabriette and her welcoming nature, embracing those appearing desperate and brave enough to seek connection.
It was the very first day of term in the Webb College, Oliver, meticulously groomed amidst the chaotic quad, stood out among casually settling students. A passing group, led by Farleigh, couldn't resist mocking his attire. "Oh, he's got the scarf," the American boy deliberately spoke loud enough for Oliver to overhear. "Hey, cool jacket," he added with sarcasm, prompting giggles from the group at Farleigh's jest.
Caught in the uncomfortable spotlight, Oliver couldn't help but adjust his tie self-consciously. However, amid the moment of embarrassment, an unfamiliar voice from a nearby bench broke through the discomfort. "I think the jacket and the scarf look adorable on you," uttered a poised blonde with a lit cigarette in hand, her hair elegantly pinned up, and her attire balancing comfort and sophistication. Oliver turned, taken aback by the unexpected compliment.
"Oh- er, thank you," Oliver replied meekly, head cast down as he fiddled with the ends of his jacket. The blonde continued, "Ignore Farleigh; he's a total sod," her nonchalant tone suggesting a level of familiarity with the American. Oliver, nodding rapidly, found himself at a loss for words.
Curiosity and compassion intertwined as the blonde continued the conversation. "Do you know your room number?" she inquired, taking a lengthy puff of her cigarette. "Er, yeah, it's 396," Oliver replied, inadvertently disclosing his personal room number in the moment.
The unexpected turn of events continued as she offered, "Quite a stretch away from mine I'm afraid, but if you want, I'd be happy to show you where yours is." Oliver's head perked up with hope, "That be nice, yes please" he eagerly accepted the offer.
As she snubbed out the cigarette and stood up, Oliver traced every nuance of her movements, committing each detail to memory. With her hand in the crook of his arm, she began to lead him inside the building, their footsteps echoing in the vast corridors.
The corridor, a labyrinth of anticipation, was flooded by students settling into their newfound academic rooms. Oliver, guided by the poised blonde, absorbed the details of each step as they ventured further.
In the dimly lit hallway, adorned with echoes of distant conversations and the occasional shuffle of passing students, Oliver couldn't help but steal glances at the girl that led him. Her smooth skin seemed to glow softly under the subdued lighting, her manicured nails catching the subtle play of shadows. As they walked, her eyes, big and round, reflected a warmth that resonated beautifully.
The gentle approach in her voice persisted, offering insights into the college landscape. "You'll find your way around here in no time," she assured him, the sincerity in her tone weaving a sense of reassurance into Oliver.
As they approached the staircase leading to another set of residential floors, Oliver's mind oscillated between the excitement of exploration and the lingering traces of embarrassment from his earlier encounter. Yet, the blonde seemed unfazed, her stride confident and reassuring.
Ascending the staircase, the girl effortlessly pointed out landmarks and shared short amusing and interesting stories about the college, turning the journey into a small tour.
Upon reaching room 396, Oliver opened the door and with a small smile, the blonde concluded their impromptu expedition, "Here you are, Room 396. Make yourself at home." She stayed by the doorframe of the room, watching the boy take it all in.
Before retreating down the corridor, she turned to Oliver, "By the way, I'm Gabriette."
A smile played on his lips, "I'm Oliver. Thank you for your help".
"Welcome to Oxford, Oliver" With that, she departed, leaving Oliver to absorb the newfound sense of belonging, initiated by a chance encounter and guided by the warmth of Gabriette's hospitality.
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