The golden morning light spilled through the half-closed curtains, gently brushing across Alina's face. Her eyes fluttered open to a warmth she hadn't felt in a long time. Evander's arm was draped lazily across her waist, and their legs were tangled under the fuzzy throw. Her head rested on his chest, where his heartbeat hummed softly like a lullaby.
For a moment, she didn't move.
She simply listened — to the rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, and the faint birdsong beyond the window. A strange kind of peace held her. Safe. Wanted. Home.
But then, Evander stirred.
"Mmm…" he muttered, his voice heavy with sleep, "If you're awake, don't even think about moving. This is too comfortable."
Alina chuckled quietly. "We're on a couch, you lunatic."
He cracked one eye open. "Best sleep of my life."
She raised an eyebrow. "You drooled on my hair."
"I marked my territory," he replied with a smirk.
She playfully shoved him, and he pretended to fall dramatically off the couch, landing on the carpet with a thud and a groan. "Ow. My fragile heart."
"Oh please," she rolled her eyes, trying to hide her smile.
Evander sat up, tousled and shirtless, running a hand through his dark hair. "Coffee?"
"Only if you're making it," she said, already curling back into the blanket like a sleepy kitten.
He walked to the kitchen in his sweatpants, glancing back at her with a crooked smile. "You like your coffee sweet, right? Like you."
"I like my coffee strong," she teased. "Like me."
They laughed — really laughed — the kind of laughter that echoed in their bones. After everything, this morning felt like magic stitched into reality.
—
They spent the rest of the morning making breakfast together, arguing about whether pancakes should have chocolate chips ("Of course!" she insisted, while he claimed it was a 'childish disaster'). At one point, she tried to flick flour at him, but he grabbed her wrist mid-attack and pulled her close.
"Careful," he whispered. "You're starting a war you can't win."
Her breath hitched.
"Then maybe," she murmured, eyes flicking to his lips, "I don't want to win."
Their faces inched closer, until—
Splat!
She smashed pancake batter onto his cheek.
Evander stared at her in stunned silence before laughing so hard he had to lean against the counter. "Oh, Hart. You are dangerous."
—
Later that afternoon, as the sun stretched lazily across the sky, Alina fell asleep again — this time on the couch alone, wrapped in a warm blanket and his scent.
When she woke up, Evander was gone.
No note. No message. Not even a single "Be right back."
Her chest tightened. She called him — no answer. She checked his room — empty. Anxiety crawled through her veins.
Why would he leave without saying a word?
Just as she reached for her coat to rush out, her phone rang. Unknown number.
"Hello?" she answered, voice trembling.
A male voice, smooth and unfamiliar, spoke:
"If you want to meet Evander Ross, reach the address I'm sending. Come alone."
The call ended. No name. Just a text — a location pin.
Her hands shook. What if he was in trouble? What if something had happened?
Without wasting a second, she threw on her long brown coat, slipped into her ankle boots, and dashed out into the chilly evening.
—
Each turn led to a new location.
Each stop had a letter waiting for her, sealed with a silver wax stamp.
At the first location — a streetlamp near the old book café — she found an envelope taped to it, sealed with wax and marked only with the letter "R."
Inside the envelope, a small note said:
> "Keep moving. He's waiting."
Each new location had a similar mysterious envelope:
One taped to a bench in the park.
Another hidden in a bookstore window.
One slipped under a red bicycle parked alone.
Another one resting inside a flower pot outside a closed bakery.
Every clue was vague, poetic, and signed only with the initial "R", increasing her anxiety and curiosity.
Alina's heart pounded — she didn't know whether she was walking into danger or destiny, but something about the clues felt connected to Evander.
Finally, she reached an old, ivy-covered building tucked behind a garden fence. The last note led her into a vintage washroom—strangely beautiful, lit by warm lights and perfumed with lavender.
There, in the center of the room, stood a white box placed on a pedestal.
On top of the box — a note:
"Open it."
Her hands trembled as she untied the satin ribbon and lifted the lid.
Inside lay the most breathtaking lavender gown she had ever seen — the exact one she had dreamed of since she was sixteen. Flowing, elegant, touched with shimmer that looked like stardust. A matching crown rested beside it, silver with tiny violet gems glistening under the light.
Tears welled in her eyes.
Beneath the dress, another envelope waited.
She opened it.
> "Wear this now.
Come to the garden next door.
I'll be waiting."
Her heart pounded.
A million thoughts rushed through her head — confusion, hope, love, and a nervous ache that settled deep in her chest.
She held the gown against her body, a tear slipping down her cheek.
Was this real?
Was this… what she thought it was?
She took a deep breath and walked to the mirror.
Everything was about to change.