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⁺⤾·˚.⃗.  [ᴅʀᴇssᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇss] 𑁍ࠜೄ ･ﾟˊˎ
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

Madam Malkins
Hogsmeade
- Scottish Highlands
( December, 1994. )

                       𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑮! The bell above Madam Malkin's Shop rang as Olympia and Cassie stepped into the dimly lit, warmly furnished boutique. The scent of lavender and fresh fabric filled the air, blending with the soft murmurs of customers. The shop was cozy, with dark oak paneling lining the walls, and velvet curtains swaying gently over the display windows. The soft glow of enchanted candles hung from the ceiling, casting a golden hue over the elegant selection of dresses. The gowns themselves were suspended on floating racks, showcasing a stunning variety of colors: deep emerald greens, twinkling silvers, and rich midnight blues. Mirrors lined the walls, giving the space a luxurious feel, while soft, enchanted music added an air of quiet sophistication.

Cassie was the first to step toward a set of dresses near the back of the shop, her fingers brushing against the fabrics as she hummed in delight. "I could spend hours in here," she said with a grin. "Look at these!"

Olympia chuckled and followed her sister, her gaze landing on a low cut gown of rich red, the fabric shimmering under her touch. "I don't think I could wear something this bold, though," Olympia mused, admiring the delicate lace detailing along the hem.

A soft voice interrupted their thoughts. "I think you'd look stunning in it, dear," came the cheerful voice of Madam Malkin herself, who appeared with a measuring tape slung over her shoulder. "But perhaps a blue?" She let her hand trail over the girl's hair, "blondes always look magical in blue my dear."

Olympia smiled politely, though she was a bit unsure. "Maybe."

Madam Malkin led them to a different section, where dresses of blue and purple shades hung in intricate layers of tulle and satin. Cassie, ever the adventurous one, immediately bounced to one aisle over pulled a blush pink gown from its hanger. The fabric flowed as she twirled it in the air. "This one! It's perfect," she declared, eyes sparkling, "I just love pink!"

Olympia laughed, "You always do have a way with fashion."

As Olympia and Cassie continued their search, the door to Madam Malkin's chimed, drawing their attention. The shop's warm ambiance shifted as Elvira and Marianna Oakes entered, the soft sound of their heelings clicking against the stone floor ringing in the quiet space. Elvira's easy smile caught Olympia's eye first-her vibrant energy lighting up the room. She had always been a welcoming presence for Olympia, a friend who could always make her laugh, no matter the situation.

But it was Marianna who made Olympia's stomach tighten. The sharp, confident air that surrounded her was unmistakable, and it was impossible not to feel the weight of the unspoken tension between them. Marianna's gaze flickered over the shop, her eyes lingering for just a moment too long on Olympia, before her lips curled into that too-perfect, almost too-knowing smile.

"Elvira!" Cassie called, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "Come on over! We need some help deciding on dresses for the ball!"

Elvira immediately perked up. She waved excitedly, practically bouncing over to them. "Cassie! Olympia! You two look absolutely gorgeous," she said, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of the upcoming event. "Can you believe it's only a week away?"

Marianna, however, stood back for a moment, her posture relaxed, arms crossed as she surveyed the room-her gaze briefly meeting Olympia's with a mix of challenge and ease, as though she were waiting for some sign of reaction. When none came, she offered a smile that was just a bit too wide, as if she were pretending that everything was normal between them.

"Well, look at all these dresses," Marianna remarked airily, glancing at the racks with a look of practiced indifference. "It's all a bit overwhelming, don't you think?"

Olympia nodded stiffly, her thoughts a whirlwind as she tried to suppress the rising tide of jealousy. Marianna's confidence always had a way of making her feel small in comparison, and the fact that she and George were an item only made everything worse. It was hard not to let that gnaw at her as she tried to focus on the dresses instead of the gnawing feeling in her chest.

Cassie, too distracted by the dresses to notice her sister's discomfort, grinned at Elvira and Marianna. "We were just deciding on color. What do you think? Are you going bold or subtle?"

Marianna's smile widened, unfazed by the undercurrent of tension, and she stepped closer to the racks, her presence commanding as always. "I'm thinking something bold. Maybe something like this," she said, picking the deep crimson gown that Olympia had looked at earlier, the fabric catching the light as she spun it around.

Olympia took a deep breath, forcing herself to smooth out the tension in her posture. She plastered a polite smile on her face, hoping it didn't come across as too forced. She wasn't about to let Marianna see how much she was getting under her skin. She straightened up, flipping through the dresses with exaggerated calmness.

"Hmm," she said brightly, turning toward Elvira. "I'm leaning toward something elegant, but not too over-the-top. What do you think of this one?" She picked up a soft lavender dress that shimmered slightly under the lights.

Elvira gave a soft gasp of approval, her eyes twinkling. "That would look stunning on you, Olympia! So soft and romantic."

Marianna, who had been silently eyeing Olympia the whole time, let out a soft, almost casual laugh. "You know," she said, her tone light but dripping with sarcasm, "I'm not sure I'll go for something as... modest. I'm thinking of something that's easy to" she paused, tapping her chin as if searching for the right words, "..slip off. For Georgie's sake." She mused with a soft hum.

Her words were laced with meaning, and her smile turned into something too knowing, too smug. Olympia's heart stuttered in her chest for a brief moment, but she quickly masked it with a cool expression. 'Don't let her get to you', she reminded herself again, though the taunt lingered.

Cassie, who had been quietly holding up a dress in front of herself to see how it fit her frame, ducked behind it as if to shield herself from the conversation. From behind the dress, she shot Olympia a look that said it all: What a bitch.

Olympia bit back a chuckle, grateful for the way her sister always had her back. She knew Cassie saw through Marianna's game, too.

"Right," Olympia said, her voice now even and controlled, betraying none of the hurt that had just pierced her. "I'm sure George will appreciate whatever you pick. He's always... so thoughtful about that sort of thing." The words felt sharp in her mouth, but she kept her tone neutral, her smile unwavering.

Marianna, for a moment, seemed unbothered by the subtle jab, though her eyes glinted with something like amusement. "I do try to keep him on his toes," she replied, still far too at ease.

Olympia scanned the racks, her fingers trailing over the fabric as she tried to push the lingering tension out of her mind. That's when she spotted it-a dress that seemed to call to her from the back of the shop. It was deep midnight blue, the color so rich it almost seemed to absorb the light around it. The bodice was tightly fitted, the fabric smooth and structured, while the skirt flowed out in soft, ethereal layers. Darker blue embroidery wound along the hem and bodice, intricate patterns like wisps of clouds or distant galaxies. Tiny, sparkling details were scattered across the gown, catching the light with every movement, as if the dress were alive with the shimmer of stars in a night sky.

Olympia's breath caught in her throat. It was perfect.

Without thinking too much about it, she held the dress up to her frame, imagining herself in it. This is the one, she thought, a little spark of excitement flickering in her chest. It felt like the dress had been made just for her. Madam Malkin smiled warmly as the dress caught her eye, "fancy this one deary?"

"It's perfect, can I try it on?" Olympia said, her voice more confident than she felt.

"But of course." Madam Malkin smiled warmly, taking the dress off the manakin with a swish of her hand, and guiding Olympia into one of the fitting rooms.

As Olympia stepped into the dress it immediately magically lifted up and fit perfectly around her frame. She couldn't help but feel the weight of its elegance. The bodice was tight, pulling her in at the waist, and the low cut made her self-conscious at first. It dipped just a bit lower than she had anticipated-she was used to more modest styles-but there was something about this gown that demanded confidence, something that made her feel like she could conquer any tension that lingered in the air.

When she stepped out of the fitting room, the effect was immediate.

Elvira, who had been chatting with Cassie, stopped mid-sentence, her eyes going wide as she took in the sight of Olympia in the dress. "Merlin's Beard," she breathed. "Olympia, you look... breathtaking."

Cassie's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "Wow, Ols, that's it. That's the one," she said, her tone full of awe. She stepped closer, hands on her hips as she looked Olympia over with admiration. "It's like it was made for you. That color... it's stunning on you."

Olympia gave a small, self-conscious smile. She could feel the weight of their praise, and it warmed her despite the initial nerves she'd felt about the low-cut neckline. The dress clung to her curves in all the right ways, the fabric soft and flowing as it swirled around her ankles. It felt like she was stepping into the role of someone more confident than she felt-someone who could glide across the dance floor without a care in the world.

"I'm not sure about the neckline," Olympia admitted, glancing at herself in the mirror. "It's a bit lower than I'm used to..."

Elvira, who had stepped up behind her, waved a hand dismissively. "You look amazing! The low cut just adds a touch of allure. Don't worry about it-you can totally pull it off." She beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Honestly, it makes you look like you belong in the stars. You're going to steal the show at the ball."

Cassie grinned, playfully elbowing her sister. "You look stunning. Cedric won't know what hit him."

Olympia felt the tug in her chest at the mention of Cedric's name, but she shook it off. 'Tonight's about me, not him, and definitely not George', she reminded herself. With the support of her friends and sister, she could face anything-Marianna, George, or any other complication that might come her way. The dress was perfect, and for the first time in a long while, Olympia felt a spark of confidence she hadn't known she was missing.

"Alright, then," Olympia said, turning to Madam Malkin with a smile. "I'll take it."

Madam Malkin clapped her hands together, her smile wide. "Excellent choice! You'll be the talk of the ball, my dear."

As Olympia watched the dress being carefully wrapped up, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment settle over her. She had found her dress. She had made her choice. And when she walked into that ballroom next week, she'd do it with confidence-no matter who was watching.

Gladrags WizardWear
Hogsmeade
- Scottish Highlands
( December 18th, 1994. )

                 𝑱𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑳𝑬! The door to Galadrags Wizardwear jingled cheerfully as Fred, George, and Lee stepped into the store, the bright, bustling atmosphere immediately wrapping around them. The shelves were lined with a dizzying array of tuxedos in every conceivable style: from sleek black suits with satin lapels to bold-colored jackets that shimmered like they'd been plucked from a dream. The store was luxurious, with soft lighting casting a glow over the meticulously folded suits, and the air smelled faintly of expensive cologne and enchanted fabrics.

"Alright, let's make this quick," Fred said, his usual mischievous grin already on his face. "The sooner we pick, the sooner we can get to passing out our taffies to the towns kids."

George shot him a look. "You mean the sooner we can get to looking fantastic, right? This is our one shot to impress everyone at the ball. We can't be running around in the same old rags we wore for last year's Halloween prank."

Lee, ever the laid-back one, chuckled. "Yeah, I'll admit, I don't want to show up looking like I just crawled out of the broom closet. Looking good takes time Fred!"

"Takes time? Ha! Speak for yourself, I look good all the time, no need to try gents." Fred grinned smugly, popping up his collar and smoothing his hair over in the nearest mirror. George and Lee shared a glance, holding back a snort.

As they moved deeper into the store, Fred immediately spotted the perfect suit. A deep, form-fitting black tuxedo with a subtle sheen to it. He ran his fingers over the fabric, nodding in approval. "I'll take this one. But I need something bold underneath," he said with a wink, quickly pulling a gold undervest off a nearby display. "Gold. Nothing says 'I'm a legend' quite like this."

"Anyone who has to say, I'm a legend, is not a legend." Lee snorted.

George raised an eyebrow. "You sure you don't want to add some sparkles too, Fred? Might as well go all out." He teased with an obnoxious wink.

Fred grinned. "Only the best for me. You know, subtlety isn't exactly my style."

George, not to be outdone, was already eyeing a sharp, sleek suit in midnight black. It was form-fitting, just like Fred's, but with a modern twist-black satin lapels that gleamed in the light. He smirked at the thought of Fred's gold accents. "I'll leave that to you. I'm going with something that'll make sure no one can ignore me." He grabbed a matching black undervest, the fabric rich and smooth to the touch. "This'll do the trick. Looking sharp never goes out of style."

Lee, who had been casually browsing the racks with a grin plastered on his face, suddenly spotted something that made his eyes light up. A bold red suit. "Well, well, well," he said, pulling it off the rack. "Gotta go with house colors, right?" He shrugged with a grin. "Besides, nothing says 'I'm here to have a good time' like Gryffindor red." He held it up, admiring the sharp lines and the rich fabric that practically screamed confidence.

Fred and George both gave Lee a look, though it was filled with amusement. They stifled themselves from laughing, the suit looked purely ridiculous.

Fred smirked. "You sure about that, Lee? I mean, it's definitely . . . festive" Finally, Fred and George couldn't help themselves from laughing.

Lee shot back with a grin, "I'd rather be remembered for something bold than something boring."

George chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. Well you're right about one thing-no one will be able to miss you."

"Yeah yeah." Lee raised his hand to flick the twin's off.

As they each picked out their tuxedos, Fred and George couldn't help but continue to banter back and forth about who would look the best. Lee, ever the easy-going one, seemed perfectly content with his choice, confident in his vibrant red suit, despite the twin's teasing.

Once they all had their selections in hand, Lee grinned at them. "Well, we're going to look amazing. The girls won't know what hit them."

George raised an eyebrow. "Maybe, but let's not forget that we're not just impressing girls. We've got three whole schools to show off for."

Fred threw an arm over both of their shoulders. "Yeah, yeah. But let's be real-if we don't stir up a little trouble at this ball, we're doing it all wrong." They all shared a laugh.

As they headed to the counter to pay, Fred and George exchanged a knowing glance, clearly already plotting some kind of mischief for the night. Lee just shook his head, grinning, content to go along for the ride. They may have had their different tastes in tuxedos, but one thing was clear: this Yule Ball was going to be unforgettable.

Assembly Hall
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
— Scottish Highlands
( December, 1994. )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 had been transformed once again for dance practice. The long house tables had been pushed to the sides, and the floor gleamed under the enchanted floating candles. A slow hum of anticipation hung in the air as students paired off, most of them chattering nervously or excitedly. The Yule Ball was only days away, and this was their final chance to practice before the big event.

Olympia stood near the edge of the hall, arms crossed lightly as she surveyed the crowd. Her gaze flicked to George, who was joking with Fred and Lee on the opposite side of the room. He was laughing, his grin as broad as ever, but when his eyes momentarily locked with hers, something flickered in his expression—something she couldn't quite place.

She quickly looked away, her heart giving an unbidden flutter. Ridiculous, she thought, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Over the past few weeks, she and George had gone out of their way to avoid dancing together. The first practice had been awkward enough, with every step charged with unspoken tension. After that, they'd quietly chosen different partners, and neither had mentioned it aloud.

"All right, everyone, settle down!" Professor McGonagall's firm voice carried across the hall, instantly silencing the chatter. She stood at the front, her sharp gaze sweeping over the students. "As this is your final practice, I will be selecting your partners today. The Yule Ball requires poise, precision, and the ability to adapt."

A collective murmur spread through the hall as students exchanged uneasy glances. Olympia's stomach tightened, her mind racing.

Anyone but him.

McGonagall began calling out names, pairing students together with her usual efficiency. "Miss Harrington," she said briskly, glancing over her spectacles. Olympia straightened automatically, her heart pounding. "You'll be partnered with Mr. Weasley. George Weasley." McGonagall gave a quick knowing glance to the two, a small smile on her lips.

Olympia felt her cheeks flush as every nerve in her body lit up. She stole a glance at George, who looked equally taken aback. Fred nudged him with a smirk, clearly amused, while George shot him a withering glare before starting toward her.

As he approached, Olympia schooled her features into polite neutrality.

George stopped a foot away, shoving his hands into his pockets for a brief moment before offering her a hand. "Looks like it's us again," he said, his tone light but hesitant, as if testing the waters.

Olympia nodded, slipping her hand into his. "Perfect observation Georgie," she replied sarcastically with a slight smile, keeping her voice as even and light as possible.

George met out a soft chuckle at her sarcastic quip, moving himself into position. The warmth of his hand against hers sent an unbidden jolt up her arm, and she cursed herself for noticing. George's expression softened slightly, the tension between them palpable as they moved into position.

The moment George's hand brushed her waist and settled firmly, Olympia's breath caught in her throat. She felt like she'd stepped into a furnace, every nerve in her body alight. His touch wasn't forceful, but it was steady, grounding, and far too intimate for her liking—or perhaps for her sanity. Her fingers trembled slightly as she placed them on his shoulder, and for a brief moment, her gaze flicked to his before darting away.

"Ready?" George asked, his voice low, with a softness she hadn't expected.

Olympia nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "Ready," she murmured, though she felt anything but.

They stepped into the dance, the music swirling around them as their bodies moved in tandem. Each turn, each step brought them closer, their movements smooth but charged with an intensity neither of them could ignore. Olympia tried to focus on the steps, on the mechanics of the dance, but all she could feel was the heat of George's hand at her waist and the way his thumb brushed against the fabric of her shirt with every shift.

George wasn't faring much better. He'd thought avoiding her these past few weeks had dulled whatever this... thing was between them. But now, with her so close, her scent faint and sweet, her body moving effortlessly in sync with his, it felt like a storm had erupted inside him. Every glance, every brush of her fingers sent his heart racing, and he was struggling to keep his composure.

The first turn came, and as George guided her into the motion, he leaned in slightly to adjust their angle. His lips brushed closer to her ear than he intended, and the words came before he could stop them.

"Why are you so tense?" he asked, his voice low, barely audible over the music.

Olympia stiffened, her breath catching as a shiver ran down her spine. "What?" she managed, though her voice betrayed her.

George didn't pull back. If anything, he leaned closer, his lips brushing so close to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath. "You're tense, Ols," he whispered, his tone laced with something deeper, something that made her knees feel weak. "Why?"

Her heart thundered in her chest, and she swore the entire hall must have heard it. "George," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, her tone half a plea, half a warning.

"What?" he asked, almost instantly, the word soft but charged. His fingers tightened ever so slightly on her waist, anchoring her, pulling her closer without meaning to.

Olympia's head tilted just the slightest fraction as she exhaled shakily, her lashes fluttering. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, not when every muscle in her body was screaming for her to lean into him, to close the infinitesimal gap between them.

They turned again, and her hand tightened on his shoulder as she steadied herself, but the movement only brought them closer. The curve of her cheek was just inches from his, her hair brushing against his jaw. George's heart was pounding as he felt her breath hitch again, her chest rising and falling against his.

The music swelled, and they moved seamlessly through the final steps, but neither truly noticed the melody or the others around them. Their world had shrunk to just the two of them—the press of their hands, the warmth of their bodies, the tension that crackled like lightning in the air between them.

When the music came to an end, they stopped but didn't immediately part. George's hand lingered at her waist, his thumb pressing gently, just barely. Olympia's fingers trembled where they rested on his shoulder, and her eyes finally, hesitantly, flicked up to meet his.

"Good," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "—You're good at this."

"So are you," he replied, his tone unusually soft, almost reverent.

The spell broke when someone jostled them from behind, and Olympia stepped back quickly, pulling away as if burned. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven, and her hands felt far too empty now that they weren't resting on him.

George let her go, though his hand hesitated for a moment before dropping to his side. He watched her retreat, his jaw tightening as he fought the urge to call her back. Whatever had just happened between them—whatever it was they were so desperately trying to suppress—it wasn't going away.

And they both knew it.

Olympia hurried down the hall, her pace quick, almost frantic. She needed to get out of there—away from the still-lingering tension with George, away from the heat that seemed to follow her whenever he was near. The sound of her footsteps echoed in the corridor, a steady beat that did little to calm the pounding of her heart.

She wasn't paying much attention to where she was going, her thoughts a whirlwind of everything that had just happened—the dance, George, the way he'd looked at her, the way she had looked at him. Every moment felt like it had been charged with something she couldn't name, something that left her feeling exposed and uncertain.

As she turned a corner, her eyes snapped upward—and before she could stop herself, she collided with something solid.

"Whoa!" a familiar voice called out, steady hands catching her shoulders to steady her.

She gasped, stepping back quickly, looking up into Cedric's face. The moment she saw him, some of the tension in her chest eased, but her heart still raced as if it had never slowed.

"Sorry," she murmured, still flustered, her cheeks flushed. "I wasn't paying attention."

Cedric smiled warmly, his hands still resting lightly on her arms. "No harm done," he said with a soft laugh. "You look like you've been running from something." His eyes were filled with genuine concern, his expression kind and patient as always.

Olympia took a deep breath, her mind racing for something to say, anything to mask the confusion that still swirled inside her. "Just... a bit of a stressful day," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

He tilted his head, clearly not entirely convinced. "You sure you're alright? You don't look like it."

Her gaze flickered for a moment, her lips parting as if to explain, but she couldn't. She didn't know how to tell him that it wasn't just a stressful day—it was everything she felt but couldn't quite understand.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, offering another smile, this one more sincere. "Just... a bit overwhelmed, class stuff."

Cedric didn't push, but he didn't look entirely satisfied with her answer either. His gaze softened as he studied her for a moment longer, a faint frown pulling at his lips. "Alright," he said, though his voice carried a note of concern. "Well, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here."

Olympia's heart fluttered slightly at his words. She had no doubt that Cedric meant it—that he was always there for her, in the way only he could be.

"Thanks, Cedric," she replied, her voice quiet but genuine.

With a small nod, Cedric gave her a reassuring smile. "See you later okay?"

She nodded, her throat tight as she quickly stepped around him. "Okay."

As she walked away, her thoughts still tangled, Olympia couldn't help but wonder what it was about George—about that—that made her feel so out of control. But for now, Cedric's steady presence was enough to offer her a brief moment of calm, even if only fleeting.

                𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 crackled softly in the corner of Olympia's room, but the flickering light did little to chase away the feeling of restlessness that had settled in her chest. She sat at her desk, surrounded by textbooks and notes, trying to focus on an essay that wasn't really holding her attention. Her quill danced across the parchment absently, but her mind was elsewhere—mostly on him. George. The way he looked at her, the way his presence made everything feel different.

She sighed, pushing her hair back behind her ears as she tried to force herself back into the task at hand. It wasn't working.

The door to their dorm creaked open, and Seraphina stepped inside. Olympia didn't need to look up to know which roommate it was.

"Still studying?" Seraphina asked, her voice light, but with an edge of concern. She had always been observant, and Olympia knew it wouldn't take much for her to notice that something was off.

Olympia glanced at her friend, offering a weak smile. "Yeah. Keeps my mind off things."

Seraphina arched an eyebrow, stepping further into the room. "Keeps your mind off what exactly?" she asked gently, her tone laced with genuine curiosity.

Olympia hesitated for a moment, her fingers stilling on the quill. She could feel Seraphina's gaze on her, the weight of her attention making her uncomfortable.

"Nothing," Olympia said quickly, shrugging. "Just coursework."

Seraphina didn't buy it. She took a few steps closer, leaning against the desk with her arms crossed. "You know, you don't have to hide it from me, Ols," she said softly. "You can talk to me. Whatever it is."

Olympia opened her mouth to protest, but Seraphina raised a hand, stopping her before she could speak. "I'm not going to force it out of you," she added with a small, understanding smile. "But if you do want to talk, I want to be here for you."

The sincerity in Seraphina's voice caused something to stir in Olympia. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. It had been so hard to admit it, even to herself.

"I don't know if I can," Olympia confessed quietly, almost to herself. "I don't even understand it fully."

Seraphina's voice was soft, coaxing. "You don't have to understand it all right now. Just tell me what's going on. Whatever's on your mind, you can say it."

Olympia's heart fluttered in her chest, and she suddenly felt exposed, as though the walls she had carefully constructed around herself were crumbling. She wasn't ready to talk about it, but something in Seraphina's calm, unwavering support made her feel like she could.

"I—" Olympia started, then paused, unsure. She could feel the tension building in her chest, making it harder to speak. "I don't know, Seraphina. I'm... I'm confused. I've been feeling—something—and I don't know what to do about it."

Seraphina's expression softened, but she didn't push. She just nodded, waiting.

"It's George," Olympia finally whispered, the name slipping from her lips like a secret she hadn't meant to say aloud.

Seraphina's eyes widened, but she didn't interrupt. She just stayed quiet, watching Olympia closely.

"I don't know when it started," Olympia continued, her voice faltering a little. "I mean, we've been friends for ages, but lately... whenever he's around, it's different. And I can't stop thinking about him. I feel something every time I see him, and it's... distracting. But I can't figure out what it means. And then there's Marianna..."

Seraphina's expression darkened just slightly at the mention of Marianna, but she quickly masked it with a soft smile, stepping closer to Olympia. "And what about Marianna?" she asked, gently encouraging her to keep talking.

Olympia frowned, her hands wringing nervously in her lap. "I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to be the person who's... who's jealous, but I am. Every time I see them together, it... it just messes with my head. And I don't even know why. It doesn't even make sense."

Seraphina leaned down, placing a hand on Olympia's shoulder, a gesture of reassurance. "It doesn't have to make sense, Ols. Emotions don't always make sense. They just are."

"I just... I can't stop thinking about him," Olympia said, the words coming out all at once now, her chest tight with the weight of everything she'd been keeping in. "And I don't know what to do with it."

Seraphina didn't say anything right away, letting the silence linger. She squeezed Olympia's shoulder gently, offering her a quiet smile. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," she said softly. "Just take it one step at a time."

Olympia let out a shaky breath, feeling a weight lift from her chest, as though she'd been carrying something far heavier than she had realized. She had said it aloud, and it didn't feel as terrifying as she'd thought.

"Thanks, Seraphina," she whispered, her voice a little hoarse. "I didn't think I'd be able to say that out loud."

"You don't have to thank me," Seraphina said, her voice warm. "That's what friends are for. To help you carry whatever weight you need to."

Olympia smiled, feeling a little lighter, though her heart still ached with uncertainty. But at least now, she didn't feel so alone with her thoughts.