The ache was quieter.
It didn't disappear, and it didn't vanish like a bruise healing overnight, but it was quieter in the way a threat became manageable when you stopped pretending it wasn't there.
Walking beside Soren with food in her stomach and air in her lungs, Amelia could feel her body settle back into something that didn't feel like a fight, her shoulders easing by small degrees as the academy's sounds wrapped around them again.
They crossed back into the academy grounds, the smells shifting to stone and ink and sweat, the faint metallic tang of practice weapons somewhere nearby.
Students passed them in twos and threes, and the stares were still there, but Amelia didn't care about those.
Not today.
Not when Soren was beside her and not shrinking, not bracing, not acting like he expected the world to reach out and grab him.
He looked like himself for the first time in a while.
That mattered.
It was in small things, the kind that only showed up when you had been watching someone too closely for too long.
The way his shoulders sat a little looser, as if he wasn't constantly tensing to prepare for impact.
The way his eyes tracked movement without flinching at it, alert but not hunted.
The way he spoke without forcing brightness into every word like he was trying to convince the world nothing had happened.
Amelia's ears twitched when the wind shifted and brought his scent to her again.
Familiar.
Steady.
He wasn't fragile.
He wasn't about to snap in half if she breathed too close.
They reached the top floor of the clubroom building, and Soren slowed, gaze flicking toward the door like he was deciding whether it was worth opening when nobody else would be around.
There was a faint hesitation in his steps, subtle enough that most people wouldn't notice, but Amelia did, because she noticed the things that changed.
She watched him for a second.
"We can go in," she said.
Soren blinked, then looked at her with faint surprise, like he hadn't expected her to suggest it.
"You want to?" he asked.
Amelia tilted her head, unimpressed.
"It's our clubroom."
Soren's mouth twitched.
"That's true."
He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing the key, then paused anyway like his body still expected the room to be… complicated.
Amelia's tail flicked once, sharp, impatience cutting through the pause.
"Hurry."
Soren huffed, not quite a laugh, and finally turned the key.
The lock clicked, and something in Amelia's chest clicked with it, as if the room itself was part of the normal she had been trying to get back to without knowing how.
The sound was small, meaningless, and yet it anchored her in a way that made the ache behind her ribs loosen another notch.
So they went in.
The clubroom was quiet, the kind of quiet that made every small sound feel clearer: the click of the door closing, the soft shift of furniture when Soren immediately started tidying things that didn't need to be tidied, the faint rustle of his cloak as he moved around like a nervous habit had taken control.
Amelia watched him straighten a chair, then adjust a cushion, then move a book that could have stayed exactly where it was and nothing in the universe would have changed.
She stared.
"You're doing it again."
Soren paused mid-adjustment.
"Doing what?"
"Fidgeting," Amelia replied. "There's nothing wrong."
Soren looked at the chair, then at her, then sighed like he had been caught doing something embarrassing.
"…Yeah, I know."
He set the cushion down more carefully than necessary, then rubbed the back of his neck.
For a moment, he looked vaguely embarrassed, like he didn't want to admit he was doing something without meaning to.
"It's just habit," he said after a beat.
Amelia's ears flicked.
"It won't help."
"I know," Soren repeated, softer this time.
That was stupid.
But it was also understandable in a way that made Amelia want to hit something, because she could see the same thing she had been doing all week, the circling, the trying to control something by doing something even when the something didn't solve anything.
So she did the next best thing.
"Then stop standing. Sit down."
She walked into the next room and dropped onto the sofa without ceremony, leaning back like she owned the place.
Her tail draped over the edge, ears relaxing the moment she sat because a sofa was a sofa and her body recognised comfort when it was offered.
The clubroom smelled faintly of polished wood, tea leaves and the lingering trace of chemicals from the room down the hall.
It also smelled like Soren, that familiar warmth threaded through the room, and Amelia hated noticing how much that steadied her.
Soren stepped into the room a moment later and stopped in the doorway like he was checking if she actually meant it.
His gaze flicked over her posture, then over the sofa, then away again.
Amelia narrowed her eyes.
He hesitated, like he wasn't sure whether sitting too close would be a mistake again, like he expected some invisible line to exist and didn't know where it was.
Amelia stared at him until he made a decision.
Then she patted the spot beside her once, firm and impatient.
Soren froze for half a second, then walked over and sat down beside her.
Not pressed against her, not far away.
Just beside.
Amelia exhaled.
The last thin tension behind her ribs eased another notch, and she didn't like how obvious the relief felt, how quickly her body accepted the closeness like it had been waiting for permission.
For a few seconds neither of them spoke.
The silence wasn't awkward, but it wasn't empty either, and it sat between them like a held breath.
It was the kind that happened when two people were finally in the same place again and didn't know whether to comment on it, and Amelia didn't want to comment because words made things messy.
Soren leaned back, then his gaze drifted up to her ears in a way that made Amelia narrow her eyes immediately.
"No," she said.
Soren blinked, innocent.
"No what?"
"You're thinking about touching them," Amelia replied flatly.
Soren's face went blank, then his cheeks turned slightly red, and Amelia's tail twitched with a small burst of satisfaction because it was always satisfying when Soren's composure cracked.
"I wasn't," he lied, automatically.
Amelia stared harder.
Soren sighed.
"…I was thinking about that time at the library."
Amelia paused.
Her chest did something stupid at that sentence, a small, sharp reaction that didn't fit logic.
"Do it then," she said.
Soren blinked again like he wasn't sure he had heard correctly.
Amelia's tail flicked, impatient.
"Do it."
Soren's mouth twitched, resigned amusement in his eyes.
"Alright."
His hand lifted slowly, careful by default, and Amelia watched it for a second before leaning her head slightly toward him on purpose.
If she was going to ask, she wasn't going to make it awkward by hovering like she was unsure.
His fingers slid into her hair, warm and gentle.
He avoided the inner ear without needing to be reminded, the touch staying in safe places, the motion slow enough that it didn't startle her.
Amelia's eyes went half-lidded.
Her tail started wagging before she could stop it, not fast and dramatic, just steady, an annoying physical truth her pride had no control over.
Soren glanced at her tail and smiled like he had just been handed proof of something.
"See?" he murmured. "Nice, isn't it?"
Amelia's ears twitched, and she pretended she didn't care.
"…Nice," she repeated, testing the word.
Soren's fingers moved with a rhythm that was almost annoyingly calm, like he had done this a hundred times and didn't see why it would ever be a problem.
It made Amelia's thoughts soften at the edges, not disappearing, but losing their teeth, the repetitive motion smoothing something inside her that talking never seemed to reach.
It made the world feel quieter.
Not in sound, but in pressure, as if she didn't have to keep bracing.
A faint sound drifted in from the window, students passing, laughter echoing briefly before fading.
Without thinking, Amelia let her tail curl and brush against his leg, light contact, the way a beastkin checked that someone was still there.
Soren stilled for half a second, then let out a small laugh.
"I'm okay now, you know."
Amelia's ears twitched.
Heat warmed her face ever so slightly, which was annoying because she hadn't done anything embarrassing, it was just a tail, it was just contact, and yet her body reacted like she had admitted something.
After a minute, Amelia spoke, voice low.
"You didn't push… Before, I mean."
Soren didn't stop petting her.
"I didn't want to make you feel cornered," he replied simply.
Amelia stared at the far wall.
She nodded once, small, then spoke again before she could talk herself out of it.
"I don't like being away from you."
The sentence left her mouth too cleanly.
Her tail went still, like it was waiting to see if she had just done something dangerous.
Soren froze too, only for a fraction.
Then his hand resumed, calm and steady, like he wasn't going to make her pay for being honest.
"Okay," he said.
Just that.
No teasing.
No sudden heaviness.
No making it into something bigger than it needed to be.
Amelia's chest eased so sharply it almost made her angry.
She didn't know what it meant, and she didn't need to.
She only knew the simplest truth: she didn't like distance, and she didn't want to keep choosing it.
A few minutes later, Soren leaned forward and reached into his inventory.
Amelia's ears perked automatically.
Soren's hand paused mid-motion, and he glanced at her ears with a smug little look that made Amelia's tail flick.
"You can't do that," Amelia said.
Soren looked innocent again, which was annoying because he was clearly doing it on purpose now.
"Do what?"
"...."
"Did I do something?"
Amelia's tail flicked once, irritated, and Soren's shoulders shook with a quiet laugh as he pulled out a small bag and held it out.
Amelia stared at him, then took it, because refusing would have been pointless and also because she wanted it.
She bit into it and felt her body relax further, which was ridiculous, because it was just food.
Soren leaned forward again and kept petting her as if this were normal everyday behaviour.
It should have been embarrassing, but there wasn't a hint of that in either of their expressions.
Amelia chewed slowly, then glanced sideways at him.
His expression wasn't forced.
It wasn't the bright hosting-face he had worn at the party.
It was just him, content to sit there and do something simple because it made her settle.
"You always have food," Amelia said.
Soren hummed.
"It's useful."
"It's suspicious."
Soren's hand paused for a moment.
"I wonder why I always carry food," he teased. "But really, I don't think you should be complaining after how much you ate earlier."
Amelia narrowed her eyes.
"I didn't eat that much."
"You did," he said immediately.
She took another bite of jerky, then responded with the only reasonable defence.
"It would be a waste to leave any."
Soren's mouth twitched.
"Sure, that's definitely the reason."
Amelia's tail started moving again, slow and steady, and she pretended it had nothing to do with the fact that he sounded amused rather than tired.
Amelia chewed, then spoke again, quieter, like she was filing away a rule.
"…Next time I say I'm not hungry, I might be lying."
Soren's hand paused.
He looked at her.
Amelia kept her expression flat as if this were a strategic statement and not an admission.
Then Soren's mouth twitched.
"Noted," he said. "So I should assume you're always hungry."
"Yes," Amelia replied instantly.
Soren laughed softly.
Her tail started wagging again.
The quiet settled around them like a blanket.
Amelia's chest didn't feel like a problem she had to solve right now.
It just felt alive.
Present.
After a long pause, Soren spoke again, voice low.
"I'm glad you came."
Amelia didn't look at him.
She pretended the jerky required her full attention.
But her ears flicked once, and her tail wagged faster.
"…Me too," she said, clipped, because she didn't know how to make it softer without making it worse.
Then, because she had decided she didn't want to circle anymore, she added the simplest promise she could.
"I'll come next time too."
Soren's hand slowed, then he patted her head once, gentle and warm.
"Good," he said.
Amelia leaned a little closer without thinking.
Soren didn't move away.
And that was enough.
————「❤︎」————