Music playing/Vibes

The room buzzed with life—music low but steady, laughter echoing from clusters of students scattered throughout the campus hall. Warm, golden string lights hung in gentle loops overhead, casting a cozy glow over the space as new faces mingled and memories began to form, fragile and fresh like the changing leaves outside.

Adelia stood slightly off-center from the crowd, a glass of water held delicately in her hand. Beads of condensation clung to the surface, a quiet anchor in her grip. She offered a soft smile to anyone who passed, polite and open, though she didn’t linger long in conversation. Her hazel eyes flitted across the room, quietly observant—taking in more than she said.

She was dressed in a soft cream knit sweater tucked into high-waisted jeans, comfortable but presentable. Her hair was pulled half-up, little wisps escaping around her temples, giving her a relaxed, approachable air.

Adelia didn’t drink—not here, not with strangers. The idea left her stomach knotted. If something were to happen, if someone needed help, she wanted to be clear-headed, steady. That instinct never left her, not even now, away from home. She'd promised herself she'd try to be social, to step outside of the role she’d played for so long, but old habits ran deep.

Still, she was trying.

She took another sip of water and stepped a little deeper into the crowd, her smile warming as a familiar laugh caught her ear—someone telling a joke too loudly, the kind of sound that made it easier to breathe.

Maybe… maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

Eliot was always someone who could make friends quickly. Bringing laughter always seemed to be the key to making good friends. The mixer was no different. He had approached the event with a straight back and large smile and people reciprocated. Before he knew it, he had a drink in his hands and was telling jokes to a small group of people. He wore his old jeans that had faded after years of washing, a bright shirt of blue, and his green jacket just on top of that. This was his typical style, casual and comfy.

Eliot sat squatting in one of the armchairs scattered about the room and was currently in a story about how he had gotten into serious trouble by running a computer chair armrest directly into a wall and made a huge hole. When he was younger he had found a way to spin the chair around at amazing speeds by wrapping string around the bottom and giving it a mighty pull, like trying to start a gas lawnmower. The result was quite fun but rather dangerous. The chair went spinning about before coming to a very sudden stop when it met the wall, burying its armrest deep within.

Mid sentence, he flung his hands out as he had done back then but his arm accidentally hit someone who was just trying to walk pass. Eliot whirled around to see Adelia standing there. “Oh shit! I'm so sorry about that!” He hopped out of the armchair before stepping up to Adelia and giving her a look over. He spotted her cup of water and waved at it. “Good thing I missed your drink! That would have been messy.” He held up his own drink in greeting before flashing her a friendly smile. “Eliot McCail at your service, miss! As a way to make up for practically assaulting you with my storytelling, can I get you a drink? Maybe some food?” The people behind him grumbled that he never finished his story and he whirled around with a laugh. “I got my ass beat! What more do you people want?! Are you not entertained!” The small group of people laughed at his antics before he turned back to Adelia with the same goofy smile.

“Some people man, you could go around smacking young women and they only want to know the ending of your story.” He quickly chugged the last of his drink before he looked down at it. “Oh, I'm suddenly out of drink. Wanna accompany me to the bar?”

Adelia blinked, caught off-guard more by the whirlwind of energy that was Eliot than the accidental swipe of his arm. Still, her grip on her glass stayed solid, and after the initial jolt of surprise, a quiet laugh slipped from her lips. His expression alone, equal parts horror and over-the-top dramatics, was enough to break any tension. “You’ve got a dangerous storytelling technique,” she said, her voice light with amusement. “Do they always come with live-action demonstrations?”

Her smile reached her eyes as she watched him whirl around to appease the group behind him, declaring the brutal truth of his tale’s ending like it was a Shakespearean monologue. Adelia shook her head with another soft laugh. “You really committed to that one.” When he turned back to her, empty cup in hand, she lifted her own modest glass of water in return, shrugging slightly. “I don’t drink, actually. I like to keep my head clear around strangers… you never know when someone’s gonna go full helicopter with their arms.”

Her tone was teasing but warm, her posture relaxed. The energy in the room still buzzed, but Eliot’s presence had made it easier to stay grounded in the moment. Socializing wasn’t her strongest suit, but this—this felt manageable.

As he offered his arm toward the bar, she didn’t hesitate. With a soft grin, she looped her free hand around his elbow and gave it a mock-serious tug. “I’m taking you hostage. You hit me, so now you’re responsible for my safe passage to the snacks.” She nodded forward. “Lead on, chair-slayer.” As they made their way through the crowd, she tilted her head toward him, sipping her water between steps. “So, Eliot McCail... what’s your major? I'm Adelia, by the way. Adelia Sailee.”

Her eyes wandered toward the long table set up near the far wall—white cloth, polished trays, and a generous spread of options. 'Something light, but not heavy,' she thought as her gaze danced over cookies, sliders, chips, and cut fruit. Her eyes settled on a platter of little toothpick skewers—cheese cubes, grapes, and tiny bits of cured meat.

Perfect.

Her grip on Eliot’s arm loosened just enough so she could motion toward the table. “I hope you weren’t planning on sprinting back to your fans, because I plan to fully judge this food before committing to anything.”

Eliot gave a loud chuckle when she described his storytelling as dangerous. “Well usually it's not so dangerous. But you gotta keep the crowd interested, ya know.”

As she informed him that she didn't drink, he just gave an idle shrug. “Hey no, I get it! Life can be dangerous when you're this cute,” he said as he gestures to her appearance. And she was cute! That much he couldn't deny. A nice round face with big, bright eyes, he couldn't help but find her adorable and judging by her comments and interactions, smart and outgoing, a good match to his energetic and spastic nature.

As she pulled him along, he laughed loudly before peering back at the group they were leaving behind. “Help! I'm being manknapped!” A few of the group waved at him as he was pulled away and he turned back to Adelia with a huff. “They just let you, huh? Good to know I mean nothing to them.” He followed along before she told him to lead the way, and then stepped up to tug her along. “As you wish.” He said with a knowing smirk on his face. He wondered if she got the princess bride reference. If she did, well, he may have just found his new best friend.

“My major?” He questioned when she asked about his major. “I'm going for digital design. I like making, like logos and web pages and stuff like that. What about you? What are you going for?”

As she gestured to the table, his eyes scanned the food quickly before he nodded and began heading that way. “I think they'll survive without me.” He reached down to grab a cookie off the table and took a bite before turning to his new friend. “Sometimes you gotta get away from the crowds, ya know?”

Adelia laughed at his dramatic declaration, not missing the way his group waved him off with little more than amused smirks. “Wow,” she said dryly, her lips quirking. “No loyalty. Not even a single rescue attempt. You might want to reconsider your fanbase.”

She allowed herself to be tugged along this time, her steps easy and light. The moment he tossed out As you wish, her head tilted slightly—and her smile turned sly. “That better not be a Princess Bride reference unless you're ready for me to quote the whole movie back at you,” she warned, sipping her water with a knowing glance. “I’ve seen it too many times to count because of my siblings. Big mistake bringing that up.”

She followed his gaze to the food table, the buzz of the crowd fading just slightly as they approached the buffet. His answer to her question came with that same offhand honesty she was starting to find charming. “Digital design?” she echoed with interest. “That actually makes a lot of sense. You give off I have a dozen half-finished personal projects I’m super passionate about energy.”

Her expression turned thoughtful, but still kind. “Sounds like something that lets you be creative but still, like..build something real. That’s cool.” She set her water down to free a hand and reached for one of the skewers she’d spotted earlier, inspecting it for a moment before popping the grape into her mouth.

“I’m in Allied Health,” she said after she swallowed. “Trying to be useful, I guess. Eventually I want to work in physical therapy or maybe occupational therapy. Help people get back on their feet. Literally.” Her tone was light, but there was something quietly grounded beneath it, a conviction that lingered even in the casual way she spoke. She didn’t need to embellish it. It was just who she was.

When made his comment about escaping the crowd, she hummed in agreement, nodding slowly. “Sometimes it’s nice to just… step out of the chaos and breathe, yeah,” she said, casting a quick glance toward the still-lively mixer behind them. “It gets loud. Everyone’s trying so hard to be memorable all at once.”

Her eyes slid back to him, thoughtful. “You’re memorable, but not in the trying-too-hard way. That’s rare.” She popped the piece of cheese into her mouth and smiled around it, playful again. “But you lose points for eating the cookies first. Rookie move, McCail.”

She caught the reference. Eliot threw his hands up with a chuckle as she questioned him about the movie quote and he grinned broadly. “Inconceivable! You caught me. It was one of my favorite movies in my teens. That and Sweeney Todd. I know. I know. It's a weird combination but I liked what I liked back then!”

When she made a comment about the type of energy he gave off, he laughed loudly. “Are you psychic or what? You got me. A million things going at once. Don't go looking through my tabs! You'll get lost. It's like a labyrinth in there. But I don't have a tendency to, eventually, finish my projects. But you hit it right on the head.”

A solemn look crossed his features and he nodded slowly as she told him her major. “That's a really good path. I had to do physical therapy for almost a year after my parents got into a car crash. I can walk again thanks to them.” He patted his right knee, giving that leg a slight wiggle. “Almost lost my leg then but I'm good now! I can even run and jump almost as good as I did back then.”

He laughed when she said he was memorable but not in a trying too hard way. “Thanks,” he took another bite of his cookie, chewed, then swallowed before giving the girl a sly grin. “I try. Life's too short to be worried about what people think of ya, ya know?” He took another bite before peering down the table for any kind of beverage. At the end of the table was an ice chest full of drinks dunked into ice cold water. “Ah!” He said as he hurried to the chest and pulled it open. “You want a drink. It's mostly just soda. Do you drink soda?” He pulled out a red can and setting it on the table for a moment, peering back at her as he awaited her response.

Adelia’s hand came to rest lightly on her hip as Eliot cried out Inconceivable!, and the sound of it brought out a grin she couldn’t quite contain. She tilted her head, lips twitching upward as she shot him a dry look from beneath her lashes. “Well, now I have to test you,” she said, swirling the last of her water casually. “Because if you’re going to drop Princess Bride quotes, I need to make sure you’re not just a poser. You do know the difference between mostly dead and all dead, right?”

There was a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, the kind she rarely let out on the first day of anything. But Eliot made it easy—his presence was like a current she could step into without getting swept away. She liked that. The food table stretched in front of them like a lazy parade of half-decent choices, and she leaned over a bit to inspect a plate of crackers and hummus, then pivoted her attention to a tiny fruit tart that looked too good to pass up. She plucked it from the tray with the delicacy of someone defusing a bomb and set it gently onto a napkin in her hand.

As Eliot went on about his project-filled brain, she gave a knowing look. “Sounds like a digital minefield,” she mused, eyeing him with a half smirk. “I bet you’ve got tabs from last semester still open, don’t you?”

She took a slow, satisfying bite of the tart, eyes fluttering shut for a second. It was sweet—but not too much. The kind of thing you savor in silence. Then, without ceremony, she leaned back against the table, letting the chill of the nearby ice chest creep up through the edge of her jeans. She glanced up just in time to catch the subtle shift in Eliot’s tone, the way the humor softened at the edges of his words.

When he mentioned the crash—his recovery—Adelia didn’t speak right away. Her expression grew thoughtful, and she watched the way he patted his knee, like it was an old friend and a reminder at once. Instead of giving him a pitying look, she simply nodded, then reached out and gently knocked her knuckles against his leg—playfully, but with a sense of acknowledgment.

“Well, that knee’s a champ,” she said. “And I mean it—props to you. Recovery’s no joke.” She didn’t push for more. She didn’t prod. But she let the silence linger just long enough to honor the weight of what he’d shared before letting it go. “Anyway,” she exhaled, brushing crumbs from her napkin as she turned back to the table, “if you can spin yourself into a wall and still walk off a car crash? I think I’m in safe hands.” She peeked over her shoulder at him, grinning. “Well. Relatively speaking.”

As he darted for the ice chest, she didn’t follow immediately. Instead, she took her time at the table—plucking another small bite, nibbling a bit of cheese, then carefully crafting the perfect little plate with just enough to look casual. She’d done this kind of thing before—moving through rooms where everyone talked louder than they needed to, pretending to feel at ease. But this felt different. Calmer. Her smile wasn’t forced this time.

She watched Eliot rummage through the cooler like a man on a quest and finally pushed herself off the table to approach him, her shoes tapping lightly against the floor. “Root beer if they’ve got it,” she said as she came up beside him. “If not… I guess I’ll settle for whatever tastes least like liquid regret.” Her shoulder bumped gently into his as she leaned to peek inside the cooler. The cold hit her skin and made her shiver, but she stayed close anyway, amused.

“I think you’ve officially earned your title,” she said after a beat, glancing up at him. “Resident Chaos Magnet. You’re lucky you’re charming.” She turned her attention back to the cooler with a sly smile, quietly enjoying the peace this corner of the party gave them—even if the company wasn’t so peaceful.

“Well yeah!” Eliot laughed, smiling brightly at her smooth grin. “When you're all dead, there isn't a hope to be revived. But if you're mostly dead, you still can come back. Usually by using a pill the size of your freakin head. I have no idea how he even swallowed that. It would just get stuck for me and then I'd be dead, dead.” He held his hands to his throat in a dramatic choking gesture before shaking his head. “Just let me die! Where's the DNR! I'll sign it right now.”

When she made a comment about his tabs being open from last semester, he looked abashed and stepped back from her with a hand to his chest. “Madame, I'll have you know, I have tabs open from last year! You think my game is that meager? I haven't shut down my laptop in six years, thank you very much.” He snatched a grape off the table and popped it into his mouth before speaking. “I'm pretty sure it's begging for death at this very moment!” He chewed the grape before swallowing, flashing a mischievous grin. Adelia was so calm and collected. Usually, everyone he hung out with were laughing loudly at his jokes and reacting in exaggerated ways, almost as if to outdo him but not Adelia. She gave off a calming aura that seemed to even affect his hyperactive energy. He let a soft smile cross his lips, it was nice.

Eliot was always one who wore everything on his sleeve. He had no secrets, no fear of being excluded, no worries, at least that's what it seemed like. Much like everyone else, Eliot had his own fears, worries, and cares but they always lingered in the places where others tend to ignore. He feared for his friends, his family. He was always the one to step forward to calm a situation, once even taking a hit to the face cause the drunk man found his humor annoying but once he was struck, his friends rallied behind him and forced the man out of the bar, much like a family of otters chasing off a jaguar from their home. Eliot has a way of bringing people together, even if it's not as he intended.

When she gave a light tap to his leg, he let a sad smile roll along his features. “Yeah, a champ. It didn't give up on me and I won't give up on it.” That time of recovery was hell and the guilt that his parents felt about it- it almost tore his family apart. Not that the family lasted much longer after that. He always held a slight shard of shame for that accident. Maybe if he was sitting correctly, he wouldn't have gotten so badly hurt and it wouldn't have torn his family apart like it did. In reality, his parents were drunk driving and they were the real reason why they crashed that day. It was the guilt of causing their only child so much pain and suffering from a stupid mistake that caused his parents to split later down the line. Of course, it wasn't his fault but he still held that little dark shard in his soul. Thankfully, time shrunk the shard down but it was still there, lingering in the back of his mind.

When he made a comment about how she was in good hands, he let out a genuine laugh. “Oh yeah, no you'll be fine. It'll probably target me over you, knowing my luck.”

As he dug through the cooler, looking for his drink, she finally made her way over. His wet soda was leaving a small ring of water on the table and he grabbed the can and quickly wiped the moisture off on his jacket before setting the can once more on the table. When she asked for a root beer, he dug through the ice, thrusting his hand deep into the cold mixture before pulling out a root beer. “Ah! Got it.” He said as he moved the cool drink to his other hand and gave his freezing one a good shake. “God that's cold.” He wiped her soda off on his jacket before holding it out for her. “Here ya go.”

He laughed when she gave him the title. “Oh yeah. It's just cause you haven't really known me for long. Soon you'll find out I'm not so charming and just flailing through life.” He leaned towards her, dropping his voice into a whisper. “Secretly, I have no idea what I'm doing.” He handed her her soda before picking up his own once more. He cracked it open and held it out with a broad grin on his face. “To new friends and not knowing what we're doing.”

Adelia accepted the chilled root beer with both hands, wrapping her fingers around the can like it was something precious. Her expression softened. It wasn't just from the cold metal against her palms, but from the gesture itself. He even wiped it off on his jacket. That was thoughtful in a way she hadn’t expected from someone so boisterous. She liked it, oddly enough. But surely this was normal, right? For friends to do this for one another?

Did they even qualify as friends yet?

“Thanks,” she said quietly at first, her voice half-lost in the ambient noise of the mixer. Then her eyes flicked up to his as he leaned in close and whispered that he had no idea what he was doing.

She smirked and tilted her head.

“Oh, good,” she whispered back, voice laced with dry amusement. “I was starting to think I was the only one winging it.”

With a soft clink, she tapped her root beer can to his soda and added, “To new friends and beautiful disasters in the making.”

Adelia took a sip, savoring the bite of carbonation. The root beer fizzed lightly on her tongue as she glanced out toward the rest of the room. The mixer had grown louder around them, voices rising in laughter, music playing something upbeat in the background—nothing she could name, but it had that polished, easy rhythm made for social spaces like this.

But somehow, she didn’t feel like she needed to scan the room anymore. Eliot had a way of anchoring things.

She turned her attention back to him, letting the silence between them linger just long enough before she moved again—stepping around him to reach for a toothpick full of pineapple and cheese. She took a bite, chewing thoughtfully, then gestured at the little pile of snacks on his plate.

“So, tell me the truth,” she said, mouth half-full, “do you judge people based on what they pick at these things? Like, is there some kind of snack hierarchy I should know about? Because I definitely just made eye contact with someone who saw me choose pineapple over pigs in a blanket, and I felt like I committed a crime.”

Her tone was teasing, but she wasn’t completely joking. She’d always been careful—of how she acted, how she moved, how she was seen. Being the oldest of five taught you that people were always watching, and sometimes watching meant expecting.

Now, for once, she was the one asking if it was safe to be a little weird.

Then, just to deflect any suspicion, she gestured broadly to the room. “So what do you think? About the whole… forced-fun welcome party thing? Worth it?” Her eyes flicked sideways toward him. “Or just a place to gather tabs you’ll forget about later?”

After they clinked their drinks together, Eliot took a large swig before he turned to face the part, resting his hip against the food table. He gazed out at the crowd, allowing his eyes to slowly scan across the multitude of faces out there. A smile crossed his face as he spotted a few people he knew already, chatting it up with others. When Adelia stepped around him, he leaned to the side just slightly to give her access to anything on the table just behind him.

“Judge people on food? Are you nuts? That would be totally rude. Some people have their own flavors that they like. You can’t go judging people on stuff like that. Who cares if you don’t agree. It’s their food. They’re not forcing you to eat it.” He scoffed before taking another sip of his drink. “Don’t go worrying about those people. They’re not worth your time. If they judge you on just what you eat, then definitely not worth even talking to them.” He peered down at a watch he had on his wrist. The time read 11:45 pm. He must have been at that mixer for a few hours by now. It was supposed to end by midnight. So they would be pulling the plug soon.

When she asked Eliot about whether he liked the party or not, he caught the lingering question she asked just under the surface. “Some people are just tabs to be forgotten.” He slipped his hand into his pocket before withdrawing his phone from his pocket. “Some though, maybe it’s a tab with a lot of useful information I’d like to keep open.” He unlocked his phone and opened up the contacts list before handing it over to her. “How about we keep in touch? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but I thought you were pretty chill and God knows I could use more people like that in my life.”

The intercom in the room buzzed to life and he peered up at the ceiling, along with everyone else in the room. “Attention students! The mixer will be coming to an end in the next ten minutes. On behalf of the student council, we would like to thank you for coming and hope you had a wonderful time. Please, if you have any trash, throw it away in the designated areas to make cleanup easier for us. Thank you very much and have a wonderful year!”

Eliot nodded his head. Right on time. He straightened off the table and turned around to face the snacks. He began to pick up any trash that anyone might have left on the table. “Looks like our little get together is coming to an end.” He walked to the other end of the table before throwing any trash he found away. He returned to Adelia’s side with a smile. “Looks like we gotta go find somewhere else to chill.”

Adelia let out a soft hum, thoughtful as she swirled the root beer in her can. “You know… that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about pineapple on cheese,” she said with a quiet smile, lifting her toothpick like a toast before popping the last bite into her mouth. It was cheesy and sweet and maybe a little weird—but still good. Sort of like this night.

She didn’t expect the deeper note in Eliot’s reply—Some people are just tabs to be forgotten. It struck her in a place she hadn’t realized was open. That quiet little drawer of herself she didn’t let many people peek into. She watched him slide his phone from his pocket, his fingers moving with casual ease. And when he held it out to her, contacts list open, she didn’t hesitate.

She took the phone gently from his hands, brushing her thumbs over the screen as if it was a more sacred act than she had words for. After typing in her name, she hesitated before adding a simple message below it:
“Root beer and reckless optimism. That’s me.”

Handing the phone back, her fingers lingered for half a second longer than necessary—just enough to be felt, not questioned.

The intercom buzzed, and she instinctively looked up too, lips quirking in amusement. “What a formal way to say, ‘Please clean up your mess and go home.’”

As Eliot turned to help tidy up, Adelia moved alongside him. She plucked a few crumpled napkins from the table, nudging discarded cups closer to the trash bin with practiced efficiency. It reminded her of cleaning up after family dinners—after the kids had passed out on the couch and her parents were too tired to notice spilled juice on the counter.

Old habits.

When Eliot returned to her side, she met his smile with one of her own—gentle, steady. The kind of expression that didn’t scream for attention but rather invited closeness.

“Well,” she said, brushing a stray hair from her cheek, “I was planning to wander back to my dorm. But I’m totally down for some waffle house if you are?” She tilted her head in question. She hadn't entirely gotten to make friends with her dormmate. It was more of one sided greeting that was met with a dead stare. Anything was better than going back right now. “Lead the way, Eliot. I’ll follow—so long as it’s not to another armchair ambush.”

Eliot laughed when she said that his words were the nicest thing anyone ever said about the pineapple and cheese combination. “Well someone has to eat it enough for it to be offered as an option here, right? And I haven’t exactly seen you eating every piece of it. So there has got to be others who like it too. You’re not alone in your taste.”

He took his phone back from her with a wink, sending his own message in response. “Fan of The Princess Bride”. He slipped his phone back into his pocket just as the intercom came to life. He gave a laugh at her comment. “Right? Those student council people have a career in politics, for sure. How does one even become part of the student council? Do they hold an election each year? Or is it a tyrannical thing where once they get the title, they hold it till they die.”

Eliot flashed his new friend a smile when she moved along with him to begin picking up trash and clearing the area. It was nice to see it. Some people would just clean up their own mess and not bother with others. It showed just her character as she moved beside him. Between the two of them, they had the table cleared of any trash. He grabbed a napkin and wiped her hands on it before idly tossing it in the trash can.

When she flashed him that smile, Eliot felt his heart skip a beat. It was such a genuine and gentle smile. He hadn’t seen one like that in a long while. It caused his own smile to soften at the sight.

“Waffle House?!” He let out a low chuckle as he shook his head. He peered down at his watch once more before giving a shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah. You know what, I’m not ready for bed just yet. Waffle House sounds good to me. Do you drive? I got a car parked not far from here. I could take us. And I can’t promise you won’t encounter anymore armchair ambushes. Though it’ll probably be some other poor chap that would have to endure it.”

Adelia blinked, then grinned, caught off guard by the sheer enthusiasm in his voice when he said Waffle House. “Wow. You said that like it was a sacred place,” she teased, brushing her hands clean against her jeans despite him already handing her a napkin. “But honestly? I could go for something greasy and golden. You’ve got yourself a co-pilot.”

She stepped back just enough to give him space, brushing her hair over one shoulder as she peered around the room one last time. The mixer had mostly begun to unravel—people trickling out in tired groups, some already stifling yawns. It felt like the end of a movie no one wanted to admit they stayed for. She was glad she had.

At his offer to drive, she tilted her head, considering.

“I’ve got my car too, but if you don’t mind driving, I won’t argue,” she said with a small shrug, then added with a sly smile, “Just know I’m a terrible passenger DJ. I overthink every song choice like it’s going to decide the fate of our friendship.”

Then, as they began walking toward the doors, side by side, she let her thoughts tumble out with a low laugh. “Okay, weird confession—waffles give me the strangest dreams. Like… absurd. I had one a few months ago where I was living in Barbie's Fairytopia but I was still me, and for some reason I was the royal herbalist in charge of potion-making.” She gestured broadly, eyes alight with that odd, playful spark. “And everyone kept calling me Lady Lavender. Like—what?”

She laughed again, hand brushing through the air like she was still trying to dismiss the strangeness of it. “So yeah. Waffles might mess with my REM cycle, but honestly? Worth it.” She glanced over at him, lips quirking. “Hope you’re ready to dine with a dream-sorceress.”

As they stepped out into the cool night air, she looked up briefly at the stars above the campus walkway. The sky was clear, stretching wide and silent, and for the first time in a while, she felt that flicker of something she hadn’t realized she missed.

Freedom.

When she made the comment about him being surprised by the Waffle House offer, he let out a hearty laugh. “Oh no, nothing like that. It’s just been a long while since I’ve been there. I think the last time I’ve been, someone got in a fight but that’s just typical waffle house stuff, right?”

When she said she overthinks music, he just gave a chuckle as he waved his hand in the air like he was trying to get the attention of a teacher who kept passing him over for someone else. “Yes, twin! Same! But I won’t judge you on it unless you play something like Barbie World. Then I’ll just have to pull over and make you walk the rest of the way,” he laughed as he slid his hands into his pocket, feeling around for his keys that he routinely kept in there. When he found them, he pulled the keys out and gave them the obligatory jingle.

He tossed the keys in the air before quickly snatching them back. “Okay! To my car we go! It’s not far from here. Like less than a block. I was planning on moving it closer to the dorm after this event anyways, so I don’t mind driving at all. Especially if you got yourself a good spot.” He continued to toss his keys in the air, listening as she explained that waffles gave her odd dreams.

“Oh, then maybe you should avoid the waffles! But like, I’ve had a lot of weird dreams too. One time I had a dream I was this large bird thing. I think I was a phoenix or something cause while flying around, I just randomly burst into flames! It was kind of cool. Cooler than being a dream sorceress.”

As they drew close to his car, he pressed the unlock button on his fob, his car’s headlights flashing for a moment as the doors unlocked for them. He stepped over to the driver’s side and pulled it open before he turned to face her. He rested his arms on top of his car’s hood as he smirked at her. “Last chance to back out before you get in the car with me. Some friends say I drive like an old man.” He gave a laugh before climbing into the car.

Adelia walked alongside him, the night air brushing cool against her skin, her arms folded loosely across her chest more for comfort than cold. She snorted at the mention of a fight at Waffle House. “Honestly? That does sound about right,” she said, glancing sideways at him with a grin. “If someone isn’t yelling about hashbrowns or fighting their reflection in the syrup dispenser, is it even really Waffle House?”

She laughed again when he mimicked her music dilemma so dramatically, the image of him swerving off the road to protest Barbie Girl sending her into a fit of giggles. “Oh no, now I have to play it,” she teased, her voice faux-serious. “Just to see how long I’ve got before you dramatically roll out of the car like we’re in some low-budget action movie.”

She watched him toss his keys with an ease that mirrored the rest of him; unbothered, confident, always leaning toward chaos. And yet, somehow, she didn’t feel nervous following him. Not in the way she might’ve with someone else she just met. Maybe it was the way he wore every emotion on his sleeve, or the way he laughed like he had nothing to prove. Or maybe it was just that for the first time in a long time she felt like she wasn’t the only one trying to figure it all out as she went.

When he made his phoenix dream confession, she slowed a little, giving him a look that was both impressed and oddly amused. “Okay, now that’s kind of poetic. You dream of burning bright and flying free, and I’m out here brewing potions for fairies.” She shook her head with a laugh. “Clearly, I’ve got the more practical fantasy life.”

As they neared his car and the lights blinked on, she shifted her weight and tapped her fingers against the root beer can still in her hand. At his final warning she leaned her elbow casually against the roof of the car, mirroring his posture.

“Well,” she said, brow quirking as she leaned in a bit with a wry smile, “I was raised by a man who drove ten miles under the speed limit and braked three seconds before every stop sign. I think I’ll survive.” With that, she slid smoothly into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut with a satisfying thunk. She looked around the interior briefly, then down at her drink.

“And hey,” she added, glancing at him with a flash of teasing in her eyes, “if you do drive like an old man, it just means I’ll have time to mentally prep for those waffle dreams. Lady Lavender has a kingdom to defend, after all.” She buckled her seatbelt and gave him a little nod, chin tilted upward. “Let’s ride!" Adelia fumbled for a few moments, trying to wrangle the knotted mess of her celllphone charger before plugging it into his AUX. She pressed a few buttons and soon enough "Paralyzer" by Finger Eleven began to play through the car's speakers.

"Please tell me you listen to Divorced Dad Rock too?"

Eliot laughed as he nodded to the music choice. “Oh no, this works perfectly! I grew up on this stuff. My dad used to blare it on the surround sound to wake me up in the mornings.”True to his word, Eliot drove like an old grandpaw. He checked his mirrors multiple times before taking turns, didn’t go over the speed limit and drove like he was on a casual weekend drive to just enjoy the sunlight, though it was night time and there were very few people on the roads.

Waffle house was a nice little rest stop between the hustle and bustle of college life. Adelia was a great person to talk to and they ended up staying out far later than they realistically should have.

Eliot peered down at the watch on his wrist, practically doing a spit take when he saw it was getting close to two in the morning. “Shit!” He exclaimed as he started to scramble out of the booth. “It’s almost two! I’ve got class in 5 hours. I didn’t do my homework! Shit. Shit. Shit.” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and hurried off to pay the check so they could leave. He didn’t even care that he was paying for both their meals. He just handed the woman a twenty and a ten before telling her to keep the change.

He turned back to his newfound friend with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about this! I know it’s kind of sudden but it’s gonna take me forever to finish that homework. Maybe I should just stay awake and hit up a nap after class.” He held his hand out to help pull her out of the booth before he led the way back to the car. “I did have a lot of fun though and maybe after I wake up from my coma, we can hang again.”

His drive back to campus was a bit faster than the initial drive to the waffle house. It was going to take him a few hours to get through that calculus homework and he knew he probably wasn’t going to get it done if he went to bed to wake up to it. In fact, he knew he wouldn’t do it at all if he went to bed.

“I’ll text you!” He said as gave a wave then ran off to his dorm. He was having such a nice time with Adelia, he had completely forgotten about his homework. He was a fool for that, he knew but it was nice to have met her. She was like a calm stone in the middle of the raging river that was Eliot. It was as if she tethered him to reality and held on tight. It was a nice change of pace when around her. He definitely wanted to do it again.

Despite his best efforts, Eliot ended up falling asleep halfway through his homework, his head resting on the palm of his hand, a small dribble of drool dropping down on his work.

By the time Adelia finally made it back to her dorm, the room was blissfully cold, the buzz of the Waffle House’s fluorescent lights still etched behind her eyelids, and her face ached from laughing. Eliot’s sudden panic and dash into the night had left her stunned for a moment, and then grinning like an idiot as she watched him disappear. She murmured, “Five hours, huh?” with a chuckle as she turned the key in her door.

The moment her head hit the pillow, exhaustion took her under like a wave, and the world dissolved into that strange, syrup-slow space just before sleep.

---

The clang of steel echoed softly down a sun-dappled stone corridor.

Adelia blinked into a light far too warm and golden to be her dorm room’s horrendous ceiling fixture. She sat up sharply—only, she wasn’t in bed. She was sitting on a narrow bench beside a heavy oaken window, a breeze fluttering gauzy drapes beside her. Her fingers gloved in worn leather brushed across a polished scabbard at her side.

“What the..”

She stood, and her armor clinked with the weight of someone who had earned it. The breastplate was fitted, silver-trimmed, with a crest she couldn’t quite recognize but felt oddly familiar. She looked down at herself; boots worn but shined, sword sheathed, a dark cloak tossed over her shoulder like she’d just stepped out of a bard’s dramatic retelling.

Adelia moved cautiously through the castle’s halls, the sound of her steps hollow against the stones. Servants passed with bows and murmured “Lady Adelia.” She barely acknowledged them, too busy trying to process how real everything felt. The smell of baked bread from the kitchens, the hint of lavender oil from a nearby brazier—everything was too vivid for a dream.

Still, she didn’t question it too hard. It was a dream, obviously. Probably the waffles she knew she shouldn't of had. And honestly? This beat the hell out of stressing over textbook readings.

She wandered until she found herself at a sunlit gallery, gazing out onto a courtyard blooming with wild roses and fluttering pennants. A squire appeared from a side door, panting slightly, bowing with a hand to his chest. “My lady,” he said breathlessly. “You’re needed. Princess Elliot requests your escort. The political tour begins in the hour. You’re to ensure her safety through the village square.”

Adelia blinked once. Then twice. “...Princess Elliot?”

“Yes, my lady. You’ll find her in the west tower chambers. She’s expecting you.”

Adelia ran a hand down her face, suppressing a groan. “Of course she is.” With a resigned sigh and the faintest grin tugging at her lips, she turned on her heel and headed down the corridor toward the west wing. Her boots echoed off the stone, her sword tapping lightly at her side. Princess Elliot. Really?

Even in her dreams, it seemed, the universe wasn’t going to let her forget that chaotic, endearing whirlwind of a guy. Well, alright then. She could play along.

Straightening her spine and letting the knightly persona sink in fully, Adelia marched forward like she had a mission to complete. “Guess it’s time to meet royalty.”

The west tower was taller than it looked from the outside.

Adelia climbed the winding stairs, her hand brushing the cold, ancient stone of the walls as she went. A thin shaft of light followed her from a narrow window slit, illuminating the occasional banner or faded mural painted with gold-trimmed warriors and serene, watchful monarchs. The climb wasn’t hard—her dream self was strong, but it was long enough to give her time to think.

Princess Elliot. She still couldn’t say it in her head without stifling a laugh.

What would he even look like in a dream like this? Probably some ridiculous gown, dripping in gems, cracking bad jokes from a velvet chaise. She shook her head at the image, one corner of her mouth quirking upward. This dream really is on something else.

At the top of the stairs, the corridor opened into a high-vaulted hall with stained glass casting fractured rainbows across the flagstones. There were two guards stationed at the ornate double doors at the far end—doors carved with a floral crest she’d glimpsed on her own armor. The guards bowed low at her approach, stepping aside wordlessly.

Apparently, she was important here. Trusted. The Lady Knight with full access to royalty.

Adelia took a breath, then raised her gauntleted hand and knocked firm and clear on the chamber doors. Three raps. Confident. Knightly.

She stepped back half a pace, folding her arms neatly behind her back, adopting the air of someone who'd done this countless times before. But her eyes flicked briefly toward the sunlight falling through the high windows, and she couldn’t help the small laugh under her breath.

“Alright, Princess Elliot,” she murmured softly to herself, amusement laced through her voice. “Let’s see what version of you my brain cooked up.”

Eliot sank deeper and deeper into a dream realm. His dorm room was replaced by a royal bedroom. In front of him, a large spread of mirrors, behind a huge canopy bed with elegant lace dangling from its overhead posts and supports. To his right were two broad windows that allowed the warm sunlight to stream in and light up his room, thick, heavy curtains tucked to the side on each one. A chandelier with a multitude of candles hung from the ceiling, the stone cold under his bare feat. Just to his side were two maids in waiting, tightening the corset around his chest. He stood with his arms spread to the side, gazing at himself in the mirror in front of him.

He had on a pale white chemise with mid-length sleeves. On top of that was the corset of plain white that the maids were finishing typing properly. He was pleasantly surprised to learn that the corset didn’t strangle him like he always thought they would. It was actually a little on the comfortable side. He turned his head this way and that, peering at himself in the mirror. This dream was really weird, even weirder than the others he’s had in the past. At least, in those dreams he was the same gender and yet, as he peered up at the reflection of his face, he couldn’t help an eyebrow raise. He made quite the dashing young lady. His slim face and high cheekbones relayed well to the softer form of a woman. His ears did look to protrude out further than in his normal body but he always assumed he had big ears. That wasn’t anything new to him. Other than that, though, heck he would date him! He looked nice!

The next thing to be slipped over his head was a Bliaut. The gown was surprisingly heavy and he found himself shifting uncomfortably under it, only to have one of the maids give him a small flick between the eyes, not painful but enough to get his attention. “Your majesty, please sit still so we may finish before Knight Adelia comes.”

Knight Adelia? The young boy stilled so the women could finish their work, staring at himself in the mirror in front of him. So she was in this dream too and she was a knight. He gave a small snort of a laugh at the thought. Man this dream was getting weirder and weirder each second he remained in it.

Once he was fully dressed, the maids got to work on his hair, guiding him to a chair directly in front of a vanity. They pulled his, now, long hair up and began to braid it. The braids began at the hairline then flowed smoothly along the sides of his hair, connecting in the back before being lopped in on itself over and over again. They bound it to the back of his head liked a bun made of braided loops before they stepped back, each nodding with appreciation for their work. Eliot reached up to glide his hand along the braid to only have one of the women swat his hand. “Your Majesty, if you continue to touch it, the braids will get messy.” Geez the women were pushy. Weren’t maids in waiting supposed to be obedient, quiet women who helped the royal family? These women were treating him like a bothersome child they had to teach proper manners to.

A knock came from the door to his chamber and Eliot whirled around to face it. A large grin broke his face as he stood quickly, practically tripped on his multitude of layers and hurried to the door. He grabbed the handles and pulled the door open wide. When he saw Adelia standing there in elegant steel, he had to muffle a laugh. They got her, alright. The dream had made her into a true knight. “Well, look at you. I didn’t think I would see you so soon. You look great!”

Adelia stared.

No, gawked might have been more accurate. Though the moment she realized it, she sucked in a breath and smoothed her expression over with knightly grace so swift and precise, even the castle tapestries might’ve applauded. Still, there had been that one second. That one little breathless second when the sight of Eliot in full princess regalia had nearly knocked the air out of her.

The lace. The braids. The gown. If this was a dream, it was committed to the bit.

She was still taking it all in—the sweep of embroidered fabric around his(her?) ankles, the way he moved in it like he hadn’t just nearly tripped on the hem (classic), and the glint in his eyes that screamed he knew exactly how ridiculous he looked and was thriving in it. It was all so wonderfully absurd that it made her lips twitch dangerously at the corners. Her breath hitched—once, twice—as the laugh tried to sneak out, but she choked it down with a sharp exhale and dropped into a deep bow that clanked faintly with the sound of real steel.

“Your Majesty,” she said, voice smooth, formal, and only slightly strangled with effort.

Straightening, she brought her hands behind her back, spine straight, chin up. If this dream wanted her to be a knight, then she would damn well commit. And if Eliot wanted to play princess, then fine—she’d play along. But she wouldn’t lose her composure. Not yet. “You look..” she began, scanning him with careful, measured eyes, lingering a heartbeat too long on the delicate braidwork looped like a pastry crown at the back of his head. “..radiant.” God above, his hair looks like a croissant.

Too much? Maybe. But it bought her time.

“I’m told I’m to escort you on a political tour through the village,” she continued, stepping just past the threshold, voice settling into something steadier now. “Ensure your safety, uphold your honor, possibly fend off rogue assassins. You know—standard protocol.” Her eyes flicked back to him, and this time her smirk was harder to hide.

Gods help her, if he curtsied, she might lose it. The steel of her armor was warm from the sun and surprisingly light, like the dream itself was encouraging her to move with purpose. Her sword shifted at her hip as she stepped further inside the room. With a faintly amused tilt of her head, she added with perfect, knightly decorum, “Though I must confess, I hadn’t realized Her Highness would be in such fine form this morning. I trust you have been properly prepared? Educated on your role for today?" It was as close to a tease as she dared.