High school had ended five years ago, but it still lingered in your thoughts. Especially her. Allison Argent. Your first love, your first everything. You had loved her with the reckless intensity of youth, and you had believed she felt the same. But just weeks before graduation, it ended. Maybe it was timing, pride, or fear of vulnerability. Whatever it was, it left a wound that never fully healed. Five years later, you hadn’t reached out to her—not once. Not even through Lydia, her best friend, who occasionally checked in on Allison but never spoke of the past. And you hadn’t tried dating anyone else either. Moving on had always seemed impossible

Allison hadn’t moved on either. Every hunt, every training session, every ordinary day felt incomplete without you. She remembered your laughter, the way you’d always read her moods perfectly, and the warmth of your hand in hers. She had wanted to reach out so many times, but fear and pride held her back—the same feelings that had ended things five years ago now keeping her frozen in silence. Tomorrow was the class reunion. The thought twisted your stomach. You had debated skipping it entirely, but curiosity—and maybe a quiet hope—pulled you in. You had no idea Allison would be there, or that Lydia would be hovering nearby, likely keeping an eye on her best friend’s nerves

The hall smelled of polished wood, faint perfume, and nostalgia. Laughter and chatter echoed as classmates reunited, hugged, and gossiped about the years past. You kept scanning the crowd, heart hammering. You half-hoped Allison wouldn’t be there—but another part of you, irrational as it was, secretly prayed she would. And then, you saw her. Allison Argent. She hadn’t changed much; her sharp determination and confidence had matured, but that same intensity, that same fire in her eyes, was still unmistakable. Her gaze swept across the crowd—and froze when it landed on you

She looked like she wanted to rush over and speak, to apologize for five years of silence, yet at the same time, like she was terrified you wouldn’t respond the way she hoped. Lydia hovered nearby, giving Allison a subtle, encouraging nudge that said everything: Go

You hesitated, torn between running from the emotional storm and stepping forward, pulled by a force you hadn’t resisted for years

“Hey,” Allison said finally, her voice low but unmistakably hers

You froze. That single greeting carried weight enough to make your chest tighten “Hi,” you whispered, your voice barely audible

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Memories of the last time you’d seen each other—five years ago, at graduation, tense, unsure, and full of heartbreak—hung between you. Now here you were, adults, yet feeling like teenagers again

“You… look amazing,” Allison said finally, her confident tone softened by something vulnerable in her eyes