Dawn Of Twilight

Chapter 8 : Until You (Part 1)

Erevin approached Dawn's house with measured steps, his nerves a tangle of emotions he tried to suppress. What's the worst that can happen? he thought, attempting to calm himself. Another voice in his mind quipped, At most, she's going to get our heart racing—maybe scratch us with her sharp nails.

He smirked faintly at the absurdity but immediately dismissed it as another thought chimed in, No, I want her to bite us again, like at lunch.

Erevin shook his head, forcing his face into a neutral expression. "Focus," he muttered under his breath. But another voice rose in his head, quieter and colder: Don't get too happy. Don't get too hopeful. Once she knows how weird and stupid we are, she won't talk to us anymore. This date, the hand holding—it's all temporary. After today, it'll be back to sleepless nights and ordinary loneliness.

The words stung, but Erevin didn't falter. He agreed with the voice, deciding to stay guarded. It was better to brace for disappointment than to let himself fall into the illusion of happiness.

Then he saw her.

She was standing at the gate, her hands clutching a small bouquet of soft pink roses, lavender, and delicate sprigs of baby's breath. She wore an elegant blue off-shoulder dress with flowing bell sleeves that seemed to catch the light and shimmer subtly. Her silky black hair was swept up into a neat bun, adorned with a flower-shaped hairpin that sparkled faintly. Around her neck hung a pendant—intricately engraved with floral patterns, its heart shape both delicate and striking.

The world narrowed, his practiced composure dissolving in an instant. He slowed his steps, completely disarmed.

Dawn looked radiant, like a vision out of a dream, and yet something about her felt achingly familiar, as though he had seen her countless times before. His heart thudded, betraying his effort to remain stoic. For a moment, the voices in his head were silent.

His breath hitched as her eyes met his. The soft smile on her lips sent a tremor through him, so warm and gentle it felt like it was meant solely for him.

He didn't realize he was still walking—he was utterly lost, his body on autopilot. She was right in front of him now, yet the magnitude of her presence felt almost overwhelming.

The silence stretched between them. His pulse hammered in his chest, loud and insistent. He wondered if she could hear it.

"You look... really nice," Dawn said finally, her voice light and soft. Her words were tentative, but the tone was warm enough to snap him out of his trance.

Erevin blinked, struggling to find his own voice. He cleared his throat, his palms damp as he attempted to muster something coherent. "You... you look beautiful," he said quietly, his words unpolished but honest.

Erevin blinked as Dawn extended the bouquet toward him, the soft pink roses and lavender exuding a gentle, calming fragrance. Her movements were poised and elegant, as if she had rehearsed this moment.

"These are for you," she said simply, her voice warm but composed.

He took the bouquet with a slight hesitation, the unexpected gift catching him off guard. He lowered his face to the flowers, inhaling their delicate scent, and glanced back at her with a small, genuine smile.

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice steady despite the sudden flutter in his chest. "These are beautiful."

Dawn's smile widened slightly, but before the moment grew heavier, Erevin quickly added, "We should probably keep them at your place for now. I'll take them home after the date—don't want to carry them around the whole time."