Eiden went upstairs and noticed that the door to the guest room was slightly ajar, not properly closed. Though the room had always been called the guest room, in truth it had slowly beco more of Sasha’s personal space. He paused for a mont, thinking. Did she co down in a hurry and forget to close it?
Curiosity and a hint of habit guided his steps closer. He thought about just pushing it shut for her, maybe out of politeness, but as he approached, he was instantly greeted by a wave of soft, unmistakably girly scent that faint mixture of sweet floral perfu, freshly washed fabric, and sothing uniquely Sasha’s own. The air inside felt faintly warr, as if she had only recently been in there.
He glanced inside, eyes sweeping over the scene. The room was not exactly a ss, at least not in the chaotic sense. Clothes were scattered here and there, but they weren’t crumpled piles on the floor. Most of them were neatly folded, laid out on the bed or draped over the chair. It looked less like untidiness and more like soone had been browsing, weighing options, and moving quickly from one choice to another. So garnts hung half out of drawers, as though she had pulled them and then decided against them at the last second.
Eiden stood still at the doorway, taking in the sight but making no move to enter. It didn’t feel right. Even though Sasha had, on plenty of occasions, barged into his own room without hesitation sotis even cleaning it for him without being asked he had never done the sa for her. Well, there had been a few rare tis in the past when circumstances pushed him to step inside, but they were so infrequent that he had nearly forgotten what her room actually looked like.
He quietly, almost guiltily, closed the door. With that small decision made, he headed to his own room. The thought of prying lingered for a brief mont, but he brushed it off. Instead, he decided to relax and put on a movie, sinking into the comfort of the familiar glow of his screen.
Two hours passed. The sound of the front door opening downstairs caught his attention faintly, but he didn’t get up. From his seat, he could hear muffled footsteps and voices. Dally Mores had co ho, and with her was Algir. Algir had his hands full literally carrying several bags, most of them heavy with groceries. Dally herself had a couple of smaller bags, though she still looked occupied.
They moved toward the kitchen, their footsteps soft against the floor. Eiden could hear the light clink of items being set down on counters, the rustle of plastic bags. Dally began organizing, pointing to spots where things should go, her voice clear and practiced, the kind of tone soone had when they knew exactly where everything belonged. Algir followed her directions without fuss, placing the groceries into cupboards and shelves.
Eiden, however, did not call out a greeting. His attention was still locked onto the screen in front of him, the movie’s plot carrying him along while the real world outside his room moved on without him.
About forty-five minutes later, the sound of the door opening ca again. This ti, the voices were brighter, livelier. Sasha had returned, and she was carrying several bags of her own. Her steps were brisk, the faint sound of sothing shifting inside the bags with each movent. She wasn’t alone Crysty walked in alongside her, also carrying a few bags.
Dally looked up from the kitchen area, her gaze imdiately going to the load they were bringing in. She ca over to help, setting so of the bags down on the table to lighten their load. "Are these...?" she began, eyeing the bags curiously. Sasha smiled slightly as she set hers down. "Just stuff for my room," she replied, sounding casual but with a trace of satisfaction, as if she had enjoyed her shopping trip.
Dally’s interest sparked instantly. "Oh? What kind of stuff?" Her voice lifted in curiosity, the way it often did when the subject involved anything related to beauty, décor, or personal style.
The two of them began chatting right there, the conversation slipping naturally into details about brands, products, and the latest releases. Sasha ntioned picking up a limited-edition set from "Fiora Belle," a costic brand known for its pastel packaging and rose-scented creams. Dally nodded knowingly, saying she had seen their campaign with the golden floral patterns and had been tempted to buy the hand cream.
Crysty, anwhile, placed her own bags down and looked comfortable in the space. Dally knew her by now, having seen her co over with Sasha several tis before but its just that she didn’t ca inside the house but had t outside. They weren’t strangers, and there was a quiet ease between them that didn’t require formal introductions anymore.
Sasha then moved toward the washing machine, her movents brisk and purposeful. She pulled out a load of dry clothes from the dryer these were Crysty’s, neatly placed in a bag. Turning to her friend, she handed them over. "Here, I kept these for you so they wouldn’t wrinkle," Sasha said.
"Thanks," Crysty replied with a smile, taking the bag.
A short while later, Crysty made her way to the door, preparing to head out. Sasha accompanied her outside, chatting in a low, friendly tone as they walked to the gate. When Sasha returned, she had a light bounce in her step, carrying a few items she clearly intended to show off. Look at these," she said, placing a few on the table in front of Dally. "This is the new ’Veluvia Glow’ skin tint. Everyone says it’s like wearing nothing but still looking flawless."
Dally leaned closer, inspecting the sleek frosted bottle with interest. "Oh, I heard they were sold out in half the stores already," she said. "And that’s the shade ’Morning Dew,’ right? It’s perfect for spring."
Sasha nodded eagerly. "Exactly. And this," she continued, pulling out a rectangular box with gold accents, "is from the ’Lunere’ collection limited edition eyeshadow palettes. This one’s called ’Twilight Bloom.’ Look at those shades."
Dally opened it with care, eyes widening slightly at the mix of soft pinks, muted mauves, and a shimr that caught the light just right. "That shimr would look amazing for evening wear," she said thoughtfully.
The conversation spiraled from there from discussing foundation undertones and which formula worked better in humid weather, to comparing notes on hair oils from the brand "Olivienne," known for its glassy green bottles and herbal scent. They even debated whether "Seraphine Petals" lip stains were worth the hype, with Dally confessing she had bought one and found it surprisingly long-lasting, while Sasha admitted she still preferred the velvet texture from "Noveau Kiss."
They laughed over the outrageous price tags of so luxury brands and shared tips on where to find certain items on discount. The room filled with the low hum of female chatter, occasional bursts of laughter, and the soft rustle of packaging as products were examined, opened, and repacked.
All this ti, Eiden remained in his room, completely unbothered, the sound of the television drowning out most of the conversation. He was content to let the day pass without stepping into their lively little circle. Eventually, the day wound down as usual.
The next morning, Eiden and Sasha left the house together for college. Their walk was easy, the kind of routine they had fallen into without much thought. About halfway there, they parted ways Sasha veering off toward her friends, and Eiden spotting Harry up ahead.
Harry was not alone. Crysty walked beside him, the two moving in sync. They were widely known as siblings, but in truth they were twins. That fact alone often surprised people because their appearances did not perfectly match. The resemblance was there subtle echoes in their expressions and certain features but Harry’s looks simply did not carry the sa natural appeal as Crysty’s. Crysty’s beauty drew attention without effort, while Harry’s plainness was sothing he quietly, and sotis not so quietly, resented.
Eiden and Harry fell into step together, the morning air still cool. Eiden glanced at Harry and smirked slightly. "Don’t you find it unfair?" he asked..Harry turned his head with an oblivious expression. "What?" he said, genuinely confused.
Eiden sighed, shaking his head. "Never mind," he muttered, deciding not to elaborate.
The two of them continued walking until the familiar outline of the college ca into view. As they approached, sothing in Eiden’s peripheral vision caught his attention. Lyra was standing a short distance away, her posture unusually still. She seed almost frozen in place, her eyes fixed in one direction.
Following her gaze, Eiden’s eyes narrowed slightly as he traced the line of sight to its source. Soone had arrived at the campus a figure stepping into view with an air of casual confidence.
It was Ruel.
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