𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒

Between Frost & Flame

Tate's pov

I took a shower in lukewarm water — not too hot, not too cold. Just enough to fight the biting chill that clung to the morning like a second skin. Outside, the sky was that soft pale grey that only winter brings. Cold, quiet, uncertain. But inside, I felt... different.

I slipped into my old varsity jacket — not from university, but from school. We all got it back in 10th grade, a batch jacket with "Class of 2021" stitched on the back. Somehow, it still fit me perfectly. My figure — soft, feminine, slightly fuller — slipped into it effortlessly, like it had always belonged to me. The fabric was thick, warm, and lined with memories. That gentle weight on my shoulders gave me a strange sense of grounding. Like maybe, just maybe, I could handle whatever this day was going to throw at me.

I wasn't the same girl I was yesterday. Not after reading his messages.

There was a strange relief sitting quietly in my chest — but right beside it, that ever-so-familiar voice echoed back:
"He won't come."

Because that's how boys are. Not men, no. Boys. They promise, they perform, they pretend — but they never stay.

I rubbed my hands through my freshly dyed blue hair, scrunching it a little so the curls would hold their shape. It gave me something to focus on. Something to control. After breakfast, I rushed downstairs — Mia was already honking from the car like the dramatic queen she is.

It was 8:45 a.m. No classes today, but our team meeting was scheduled early in the auditorium. Event prep was picking up speed now, and we had to be ready.

As we reached campus, the familiar wave hit me again — the anxiety, the doubt, the ache in my chest.
What if he doesn't show up?
What if I believed too quickly, too easily?

I remembered overhearing him last Friday, laughing with his friends about how he never came to uni this early. Especially not for boring meetings. Especially not just to meet someone.

So why would he change that today?

Mia twisted the doorknob and we both stepped inside — and before I could spiral further, my eyes found him.

Tarren.

He was already there, sitting right in the middle of the room, surrounded by our team. Present. Calm. Solid.

Relief crashed over me like a wave. He came. He actually came.

The meeting started soon after and ended before I could fully process it. Everyone began heading toward their assigned roles for the day. Mia and the rest were preparing to leave for another university, arms full with flags and stands.

As we hugged goodbye, Mia looked over her shoulder and called out with a mischievous grin,
"You both better not fight!"

I rolled my eyes and gave her a playful glare. "Mia—really?"

Before I could say more, Tarren spoke up, calm and casual but loud enough for everyone to hear,
"Why would we even fight?"

His tone wasn't mocking or cold. It was genuine — like fighting wasn't even on his mind. Somehow, that made me blush more than I expected.

I gave Mia that knowing look, and she just smirked like she knew something I didn't. Typical.

Most of the team headed downstairs while Mia's ride hadn't arrived yet, so her group lingered a little longer. Tarren and I were the first to leave.

On the staircase, just as the last voices faded behind us, his voice broke the quiet.
"What happened to you this morning?"
"And who said I wasn't coming?"