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.

[i]Freedom[/i].