I shuffle to my closet space, closing the door behind me and leaning against it for a moment of peace. Then I grab the uniform we are supposed to wear. Valenridge has a dress code, apparently. Navy blazer, white button-down, plaid skirt that hits just above the knee. Very preppy. Very prestigious. Very not my usual style of leggings and oversized sweaters that hide my body from judgment.
But rules are rules, and I am too tired to fight this particular battle today.
I get dressed mechanically, my body going through the motions while my mind drifts. Thinking about the day ahead. The classes I have to attend. The people I will have to interact with. The possibility of running into Bastien or Vanessa or any of the other complications this school seems determined to throw at me.
One step at a time. Just like Etienne said. One step at a time. Do not think about the whole day. Just think about the next step.
By the time I am finally ready, fully dressed with my bag packed and my hair contained in a low bun that almost looks intentional, I feel almost functional. Almost human. Almost capable of facing whatever this day decides to throw at me.
And then I smell it.
Coffee.
Rich, dark, glorious coffee. The scent drifts down the hallway like a siren song, calling to my caffeine-deprived soul with promises of alertness and survival and the ability to formcomplete sentences. It wraps around me like a warm embrace, filling my lungs with hope.
I sniff the air, wondering if I am imagining it. If my desperate brain has conjured a phantom scent to torment me in my hour of need.
But no.
It is real.
It is gloriously, miraculously, impossibly real.
I walk back to the kitchen living room space, following the aroma like a bloodhound on a trail, my feet moving faster than they have all morning.
And there, sitting on the small dining table like a gift from the universe itself, is a steaming cup of coffee. Dark and beautiful and everything I have ever wanted in this moment. Next to it is a wrapped cream cheese bagel, the kind you get from the campus cafe with the fancy paper and the little logo stamped on the wrapping.
I stare at it like it is the first time I have ever seen breakfast.
Like it is a mirage that might disappear if I blink too hard.
Like it is proof that magic exists in the world after all.
Etienne is leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping from an identical cup. He is dressed now, thankfully, in the same navy blazer and white shirt that makes up the Valenridge uniform. His dark curls are still slightly damp from his own shower, falling across his forehead in an artfully disheveled way that should be illegal.
He gestures toward the table with a head nod.
"Coffee and a bagel good? We have not gotten groceries or anything yet, so we are probably going to have to eat out until the weekend when we can do a proper shopping trip. I figured this would hold you over for now."
I gawk at him.
Actually gawk, my mouth hanging open in a way that is probably deeply unattractive and definitely not dignified.
"Wait." My voice comes out slightly strangled with disbelief. "You got me a bagel?"
"Yes."
"And coffee?"
"Yes."
"For me? Specifically for me?"
"That is typically what getting someone breakfast means, yes."
I blink rapidly, trying to process this information through my still-foggy brain.
"Um. Let me see if I have enough money." I start digging through my bag, searching for my wallet with fumbling fingers. "I do not know how much campus cafe stuff costs here, but I can probably cover it if I skip lunch or..."
