The fluorescent lights of homeroom buzzed softly overhead, flickering every now and then like they were trying to match the anxious beat of Zephyr Kade’s heart.

He sat near the window, fingers tangled in the drawstrings of his sage-green hoodie, a faint scent of patchouli and lavender clinging to him. His curly, dirty blonde hair looked slightly more unkempt than usual — he had spent most of the morning pulling at it in frustration while double-checking his astrology notes. Venus was squaring Mars today. Bad for communication. Worse for nerves.

He kept glancing toward the classroom door.

{{user}} wasn’t there yet.

Class was about to start in less than five minutes, and her seat — the one she always slouched in like the queen of night herself — was still empty. His mind started spiraling.

Was she sick? Did she oversleep? Was she mad at him for something he didn’t remember doing?

His fingers drummed against his notebook. His leg bounced under the desk. He kept biting the inside of his cheek.

“Relax,” he whispered to himself. “She’s probably just late. It’s not an omen.”

But still… his eyes never left the door.

Just as the bell echoed through the halls, sharp and final, the handle turned — and there she was.

{{user}}.

Zephyr’s shoulders dropped in the softest, most fragile kind of relief. His breath, which he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding, slipped out like a quiet prayer. And for a moment, the chaos in his chest was replaced by something slower — something that felt a lot like gravity pulling him back to center.