Felicity's POV.
Some moments sneak up on you. Quiet and gentle. The kind you do not see coming until they have already wrapped themselves around your heart and refuse to let go. This was one of those moments.
"Hello, Dad. How are you doing? I know you could not come to the matriculation, but I hope you get better very soon."
"Hello, baby girl," he said softly. "Your old dad could not make it to your matriculation day, but I promise I will be there next time."
I smiled even though he could not see me. "It is okay. I understand."
"I am proud of you," he said. "More than you know."
My throat tightened. "Thank you, Dad."
"Did you walk in proudly?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, laughing a little. "I did."
"That is my girl."
We talked for a few more minutes before he told me to enjoy my day.
"I love you, Dad. And tell Mom I love her too," I said quietly.
"I love you more. I will," he replied.
When the call ended, I held the phone close to my chest for a moment before turning back. Christopher was still watching me, and something in his eyes felt different. I walked back to him, still holding my phone.
"You okay?" he asked gently.
I nodded. "Yeah. He just wanted to make sure I was smiling."
"And were you?" he asked.
I looked at him. "I am now."
Something shifted in his expression. Softer. Warmer.
"He sounds proud," Christopher said.
"He is," I replied. "He just hates missing things. Like today."
Christopher stepped a little closer. "Then I am honoured I get to be here."
My heart did that quiet, dangerous flutter again.
"You always say the right thing," I murmured.
"No," he said softly. "Just the honest thing."
For a moment, he held my hand, and the noise around us faded. The cameras. The laughter. The whispers. It was just us and whatever this was between us felt real. Very real. After the whirlwind of matriculation, with speeches, applause, proud parents, and students screaming as they had just won a huge honour, we stood there watching the crowd before stepping out into the open quad of the University of Oxford.
The sun spread a warm, golden glow across the old stone buildings. Laughter echoed against the ancient walls. Cameras flashed. Robes swished as students posed like celebrities on a red carpet. The grass carried a light scent of rain and quiet secrets. A soft breeze moved around us, as if it knew something I had not figured out yet. Oxford had never looked more alive. The quad was full of laughter and flashing cameras. Students tripped over their robes, took blurry selfies, and shouted each other's names like it was the last day of high school, not the start of something new. But none of it held my attention.
You would think that after the ceremony, after walking beside Christopher, who somehow made a plain academic robe look like high fashion, I would be ready to hide in a quiet corner and sleep. Nope. I felt electric. Wide awake. Glowing on the inside and trying not to show it on the outside. Penelope disappeared with someone's camera, probably off to stage a photo shoot that would accidentally go viral. Mia disappeared with someone's attention. Of course she did. That girl could flirt with a tree if it had enough branches. And Christopher? He was still beside me. Still holding my hand as it belonged there. Maybe it was the crowd. Maybe it was the rush of the ceremony. Maybe it was the way Christopher reached for my hand just before we were swallowed up by parents, professors, and overexcited freshmen with phones. Or maybe it was just him.
Because the moment his fingers brushed mine, I forgot how to act normally. My heart started doing Olympic flips, as it had suddenly joined a gymnastics competition. He did not say much. He did not have to. He was still in his sub fusc robes, somehow making them look stylish and effortless. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his lips were slightly parted, like he wanted to speak but was still choosing the right words. I could not stop staring. Every small touch felt important, and I was only just starting to notice it. It was not just the ceremony that made today feel different. It was this. You. Me. Us. Against the world and the quiet promise between us. He leaned closer, close enough for me to smell his cologne, clean, subtle, a little expensive, and dangerously distracting.
"Your Smartness," he whispered with a mischievous glint in his eye. "May I steal you away before we get trampled by overachievers and their Instagram captions?"
I laughed, squeezing his hand. "Lead the way, Royal Sass."
We slipped through the crowd, dodging camera flashes, hugging students, laughing like we were getting away with something and ignoring the chaos around us.
"Felicity," he said softly, his voice dropping just enough to send a chill down my spine. "You survived your first Oxford ceremony without fainting. I'm honestly impressed."
I rolled my eyes playfully. "Please. I was practically born in a robe."
"Yeah, a bathrobe maybe," he teased.
I elbowed him lightly. "Rude."
He chuckled, hands raised in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm kidding. You looked… stunning."
My heart stuttered. He added softly, "You honestly look like someone who just won an Oscar."
I blushed—and then immediately hated that I blushed. Of course, he noticed. Christopher noticed everything. To cover it up, I flipped my curls over my shoulder like I was on a red carpet. "I'd like to thank the Academy... and my mother's legendary cheekbones," I said dramatically.
He laughed. Full and real. Not polite. Not careful. Just real laughter. The kind that makes people turn their heads. The kind that wraps around you like sunlight. And I melted. It was soft and deep. Something inside me flipped. Maybe my heart. Maybe my stomach. Maybe both. I didn't care. It felt good. In that moment, I swear, the Oxford sunlight hit him just right, lighting up his face like a spotlight from a fairy tale.
We ran across the quad, past students, through a side path, laughing like children running from responsibility. We passed a statue of some important Oxford man who looked deeply disappointed in our joy. We finally ducked behind one of the stone arches, breathless and still laughing.
Christopher bent over slightly, catching his breath. "Tell me again why we're hiding behind a gargoyle?"
"Because I'm allergic to group pictures," I said, panting. "And Mia's heels are dangerous. I'm not risking my ankles for her stilettos."
That made him laugh, full and warm, the kind that made you melt. He straightened up, brushed a curl away from my face, and his eyes locked on mine as he caught his breath.
"You look…" he began quietly, voice soft. "You look like everything I didn't know I was hoping to find."
I blushed and my heart skipped a beat. "Oh please," I said, waving him off with a breathless smile. "Don't go all prince-poetic on me now."
"Too late." He stepped closer, that playful grin still there but softer now. "Felicity, I—"
"CHRISTOPHER!" Mia's voice crashed into the moment like a marching band in a library.
We both winced. I peeked over the stone ledge. Mia. There she was in full runway mode. Strutting across the quad like she owned the place. Her heels clicked hard. Her hair bounced and of course, glaring right at us.
"Should we pretend to be statues?" I whispered.
"We already are," he muttered. "Stone cold busted."
She walked up with her arms crossed, looking serious. "There you are," she huffed, dramatic as ever. "I've been searching everywhere for you," she said, sweetly, though her eyes said otherwise.
"For what? A personality? Or your soul?" I muttered under my breath. Christopher coughed, trying not to laugh.
He turned to her smoothly. "We just needed some air. "It's been a bit overwhelming. Matriculation is exhausting, isn't it?"
"Yes. And it's also the perfect time for couples to take meaningful pictures on days like this," she said, looping her arm through his. "Shall we?"
I blinked. "Couples?" Chris stiffened beside me.
"Oh relax," Mia said with a too-sweet smile, adjusting her robe. "I just meant you and me. We're still engaged, aren't we? You haven't called it off yet. You are still my fiancè".
"I never agreed to this, just so you know," he winced.
"Our parents never called it off, so you are still my fiancé whether you like it or not. Let's go."
The words landed through the moment like ice water. Before either of us could respond, she didn't wait and pulled him back toward the crowd.
He glanced back at me helplessly, mouthing, "Please help me."
I sighed dramatically and waved him off. "Try not to get kidnapped. If she gets too close, start quoting your father's laws. You'll survive, I promise."
He sighed, already planning to, and just like that, he was gone. I slowly wandered to the quieter side of the quad, where the noise from the crowd faded behind the old stone buildings. The air felt calmer there. I could still hear laughter and the snap of phones in the distance, but over here, it felt like another world. Calm. Safe. Like a secret place made just for us. A few minutes later, he found me again, quietly slipping away from Mia like shadows. But with him beside me, everything else disappeared. It felt like we were in our own little world.
"Remember our first week here?" he asked.
I groaned softly. "Do we have to bring that up? I was so nervous."
"You were still the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. You were adorable," he chuckled without hesitation.
"And awkward."
"Still adorable."
I looked up at him. The sunlight caught in his eyes, those warm, ocean-blue eyes, the kind that always saw right through me.
"You're really bad for my ego, Your Highness," I said, smirking and giving a small bow.
"Good. Someone has to keep you humble," he scoffed, but there was a soft smile tugging at his lips.
I covered my face with one hand and laughed. "You're ridiculous."
But something warm bloomed in my chest.
He smiled down at me. "I mean it."
And then I said it.
"I can't believe I'm in love with you."
Wait. What? My heart stopped. My eyes widened. Did I just say that out loud? His eyes slightly widened too. He froze.
"You said..." he started.
"I said I'm cold!" I blurted. "I said I'm cold!"
He stared at me. "Right. Cold."
Smooth, Felicity. Really smooth. And then, just like a fairytale, the moment melted into a kind of peace I didn't know I needed. He reached for my hand anyway, gently lacing our fingers.
"Come on, let's hurry and take pictures," he said gently. "Before Penelope comes after us with her selfie stick or Mia spots us."
We walked toward the Radcliffe Camera, where the golden sunlight made everything look like a dream. The crowd had started to thin out, the world felt quieter and for a brief moment, it felt like the whole world belonged to just us.