After the Escape

(Jazlyn’s POV)

The air outside tasted like freedom.

I landed first on the damp grass, knees bending to absorb the drop from the storage-room window. Sebastian followed right after, landing soundlessly beside me. For a moment neither of us spoke—just the sound of crickets and our own uneven breathing. The garden lamps burned low, scattering pale gold over the hedges and the marble path. The night wrapped around us like velvet, quiet and secret.

“We’re officially fugitives,” I whispered, brushing dust off my skirt.

Sebastian gave a low laugh. “Fugitives who escaped through a janitor’s window. Not very glamorous.”

“That’s on you,” I shot back. “You were the one who decided we couldn’t wait for help.”

He glanced at me, one brow lifted. “Would you rather have stayed locked in there?”

“No,” I said quickly, then softened. “But now they’ll think we really ran away.”

“Let them,” he murmured. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

The calm in his voice made my chest feel unsteady. He was leaning against the trunk of an old maple tree, moonlight slicing across his face, and I realized he wasn’t even trying to hide how handsome he was when he was quiet.

We started walking along the garden path, careful not to make noise. The campus stretched around us—shadowed buildings, empty benches, the faint hum of a faraway lamp. I could almost pretend we were the only two people left in the world.

He broke the silence first.

“Do you really know me, Jazlyn?” His tone was light, but there was something cautious under it.

I looked up at him. “Of course I do.”

He smiled faintly. “No. You know my name, maybe a few rumors. But do you actually know who I am?”

“I know enough,” I said, matching his pace. “You’re Sebastian. The one who tried to stop Adrian before he could hit me. The one who doesn’t talk much but sees everything.”

He chuckled under his breath. “You make me sound better than I am.”

“I just tell the truth.”

He stopped walking then, hands in his pockets. The wind stirred his hair, and for the first time that night, he met my eyes fully. “You shouldn’t,” he said quietly. “People will start to think you like me.”

I didn’t look away. “Maybe I do.”

His lips parted slightly, surprise flickering through his calm mask. “You barely know me.”

“I know enough,” I repeated, voice steady even though my heart wasn’t. “And I’ve liked you for longer than you think.”

He laughed once—short, nervous. “That can’t be true.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not from your world.” His voice turned low. “I’m a scholarship student, Jazlyn. My family can barely afford rent. You’re Mercado—everyone knows what that means. You belong with people like Adrian, not someone who fixes the school’s computers for extra credits.”

I stepped closer. “You think money decides who we belong with?”

“It usually does.”

“Then maybe it shouldn’t.” I could hear how stubborn I sounded, but I didn’t care. “You saved me, Sebastian. You didn’t have to, but you did. That’s worth more than whatever name I was born with.”

He shook his head, smiling without humor. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to be looked down on just for existing.”

“I do,” I said softly. “Maybe not in the same way—but I know what it’s like to be used, betrayed, and thrown away.”

Something in my voice must have cracked because his expression changed—less guarded, more human. The night wind brushed between us. I could smell the faint trace of soap and metal on him, the kind of scent that stayed in your head.

He took a slow step closer. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” I said, “I don’t want to waste another chance pretending I don’t care.”

He stared at me, eyes unreadable, then looked away. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying.”

He let out a breath, almost like he was surrendering. “You shouldn’t.”

“Then tell me to stop.”

He looked at me again, and the distance between us seemed to disappear. His eyes were darker up close, reflecting tiny shards of lamplight. “You’re impossible,” he murmured.

“Maybe,” I said. “But you’re still here.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. The world felt paused—only the heartbeat in my chest proving time was still running.

He reached up, slowly, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His fingertips barely touched my skin, but it was enough to send every thought scattering. “You really shouldn’t look at me like that,” he whispered.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m someone worth looking at.”

“You are,” I breathed.

He laughed quietly, the sound softer than I’d ever heard from him. “You’re going to get us both in trouble.”

“Too late for that.”

Something shifted again—small, invisible, but I felt it. He tilted his head slightly, eyes dropping from mine to my lips before catching himself and stepping back a half inch.

“I can’t—” he started.

“You can,” I interrupted. “You just don’t want to.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

He sighed, frustrated. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Jazlyn.”

I smiled a little. “Good. Then we’re even.”

We both laughed, and the tension eased just enough to let the night breathe again. The moon climbed higher, catching the silver in his hair. He looked tired, vulnerable, and absolutely breathtaking.

“Let me help you,” I said suddenly. “You said you’re working for your scholarship. I can—”

He cut me off gently. “Don’t. I don’t need saving.”

“It’s not saving. It’s sharing.”

“You shouldn’t risk anything for me.”

“Too late,” I whispered.

He exhaled sharply, like the words hit him somewhere he couldn’t hide. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

I nodded.

He closed the distance then—not completely, just enough for our shadows to merge on the grass. “You’re insane,” he said, voice almost affectionate now.

“I’ve been told worse.”

He reached out again, this time tracing his fingers lightly along my wrist. It wasn’t much—just contact—but it felt like the world tilted. His hand was warm, rough from work, and the moment his thumb brushed my pulse I forgot how to breathe.

“See?” I said quietly. “That wasn’t so hard.”

He smirked. “You’re dangerous.”

“And you like it.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He let out a soft laugh. “You’re really not giving me a choice, are you?”

“No,” I said simply. “I’ve made up my mind.”

His gaze dropped to my hand still resting against his. “And what if I walk away?”

“Then I’ll follow.”

That earned me a real smile—slow, crooked, and absolutely worth every second of chaos that led us here. For a long while, we just stood there, listening to the wind in the trees and the faint hum of the campus lights. The world outside didn’t matter.

Finally he whispered, “You should go back before someone finds us.”

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

“Jazlyn—”

“Just five minutes,” I said. “Let me stay here a little longer.”

He hesitated, then nodded. We sat on the low marble bench beneath the tree. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was full. I could feel him beside me, steady and real, and for the first time since waking up in this second life, I didn’t feel alone.

After a while, he spoke again, quieter this time. “You really like pushing people, don’t you?”

“Only the ones who make me feel alive.”

He turned to me, eyes soft. “Then I guess I’m in trouble.”

I met his gaze, heartbeat tripping. “We both are.”

The air thickened again; my hand brushed his. Neither of us pulled away. His eyes dropped to where our fingers touched, then lifted back to mine.

“If I do this,” he said slowly, “there’s no going back.”

“I don’t want to go back.”

He leaned closer—just close enough for me to feel his breath against my cheek, the warmth curling through me like fire.

“Jazlyn,” he whispered.

“Yes?”

He smiled faintly. “You really are something else.”

And before I could think, he reached out and tucked another stray strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering just long enough for the world to stop again.

No kiss, no promises—just that look, heavy with everything neither of us was ready to say.

---

Somewhere behind the administration building, a door slammed; voices echoed, calling our names. The spell broke. Sebastian stood, offering his hand to help me up.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ll get caught.”

I took his hand, fingers closing around his, and for one fleeting second, it felt like the start of something inevitable.

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