Evaline:
For a mont, none of us moved.
We just stood there, staring at Charles as he sobbed, confusion and shock written clearly on every face in my group. It wasn't the loud, dramatic kind of crying that drew attention... it was worse. Quiet. Broken. Like he had been holding everything in for far too long and sothing small had finally shattered the fragile wall keeping it all together.
I felt sothing twist painfully in my chest.
I took a slow breath, steadying myself, and stepped toward him.
"Charles," I said softly.
He flinched, as if my voice alone startled him out of his misery. He scrubbed at his eyes quickly, wiping away tears with the back of his sleeve, and shook his head.
"It's nothing," he muttered. "I'm fine."
But I knew that look.
I knew it far too well.
That hollow expression. The forced composure. The way he straightened his shoulders like standing tall could sohow erase the pain clawing at his insides.
He wasn't fine.
And I doubted he ever truly had been.
This was the second ti I t him, and both tis I found him being cornered, humiliated, reduced to soone small and defenseless in a world that worshipped strength above all else.
And then there were the glasses.
Werewolves didn't need them. Not unless sothing was wrong.
Either his wolf was weak… or he didn't have one at all.
The thought made my stomach churn.
I prayed silently that it was neither... that maybe he just preferred wearing them just like Kieran and Kyros, that this was simply his choice. Because I knew exactly what life looked like for those who were different in our world. I had lived it. I had survived it.
And I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
I hesitated for just a second before reaching out.
Then I gently patted his shoulder.
The mont my hand made contact, sothing strange happened.
A sudden rush of energy surged through my palm... warm, sharp, and fleeting. It washed over my skin like a spark before vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared.
I froze.
That feeling…
It was weird... but familiar.
But before I could even begin to grasp it, before I could chase the thought down, Charles turned toward , pulling back into the mont.
"What's wrong?" I asked again, more firmly this ti. "Tell ."
He looked at for a long second, as if debating whether he should say anything at all. Then his gaze dropped to the blazer clutched in his hands.
Slowly, he held it out.
"This," he added quietly, gesturing to the torn blazer. "I know it probably sounds stupid. Crying over a uniform."
"It doesn't," I said imdiately.
He let out a shaky breath. "My grandmother bought it," he continued, voice trembling. "She… she saved for nearly a year. Ever since I told her I wanted to co here. She worked extra hours, skipped things she needed, just so I could afford this uniform."
His fingers tightened around the fabric.
"And now," he whispered, "it's ruined. On the second day."
Sothing inside cracked.
How could I not understand?
Silver Moon Academy was prestigious. Ruthless. Everything here ca at a cost... and none of it was cheap. The uniforms alone were worth more than so families earned in months.
If it weren't for Kieran, for the way he had quietly paid for everything when I first arrived, I would have never made it here. I wouldn't have been able to afford the uniform, the supplies, the fees... any of it.
I rembered how small I had felt back then. How terrified I'd been of damaging sothing I couldn't replace. How every tear, every stain, every rip felt like the end of the world.
Charles wasn't foolish.
He was hurting.
I reached out and gently took the blazer from his hands.
He looked startled but didn't stop .
I inspected it carefully, fingers tracing the tear along the sleeve. The fabric was still good. The damage wasn't severe... just loose threads, pulled apart by rough hands.
Relief blood in my chest.
I looked up at him and smiled.
"It's okay," I said. "This can be fixed."
His eyes widened. "R-really?"
I nodded. "I know so needlework. It won't even be noticeable once I'm done."
He stared at like I had just told him the sky was purple.
"Leave it with ," I added gently. "I'll bring it back to you tomorrow morning. Breakfast."
His lips parted, disbelief written all over his face. "You… you don't have to-"
"I want to," I said firmly.
Then, softer, "And if you give your shirt later, I can fix the pocket too."
For a mont, he didn't speak.
Then his eyes filled with tears again... but this ti, they were different. Less broken. Less hopeless.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I-I don't know how to repay you."
"You don't have to," I replied.
Behind , I felt my friends shift closer.
Mallory crossed her arms, glaring in the direction the bullies had run off. "Those idiots are lucky we didn't do more."
Kyros nodded. "If they co near you again, you tell us. Imdiately."
Noah offered him a small smile. "You are not alone here, Charles. You have got backup now."
Charles looked overwheld, his eyes darting between us as if he couldn't quite believe this was real.
I recognized that look too.
The disbelief that ca when kindness felt unfamiliar.
When you weren't used to people standing up for you.
My chest tightened painfully.
"Co on," I said gently. "We were heading to lunch."
He hesitated. "I-I don't want to be a bother."
"You are not," I said without hesitation.
He finally nodded slowly.
As we walked together through the corridor, I found myself watching him out of the corner of my eye. The way he kept his head slightly lowered. The way he flinched at sudden sounds. The way he tried so hard to appear composed despite everything weighing him down.
It was like looking into a mirror of my past.
The bullying. The isolation. The quiet resilience.
The desperate attempt to stay strong in a world that constantly reminded you of your weakness.
I clenched my fists.
No.
Not again.
Not to him.
I didn't know why fate had crossed our paths twice now. I didn't know why that strange surge of energy had pulsed through when I touched him.
But one thing was clear.
Charles wasn't invisible anymore.
And as long as I was here... he wouldn't face this alone.
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