?

  It began with a sudden screech, Luca’s voice, unmistakably his, slicing through the corridor in a pitch usually reserved for tragic monologues or haunted attic scenes.

  Mira blinked, pausing mid-step. She had been walking down the hall with a folder tucked under one arm, intending to drop it off at Luca’s class, some paperwork he’d forgotten during lunch. The scream derailed that plan, or rather, redirected it.

  Ahead, the door to the film classroom stood ajar. Inside, chairs scraped, startled gasps gave way to laughter, and the unmistakable scuffle of students standing on tiptoes or scrambling onto chairs filled the room. Something small and fast skittered across the linoleum floor.

  A few phones were raised, recording the scene as if it were a spontaneous thriller short. Mira didn’t hurry. She adjusted her grip on the folder, her steps falling into that familiar rhythm she always had when she wasn’t in a rush but fully intended to witness whatever chaos had just unfolded. By the time she reached the open doorway, the tension inside was still climbing like an overdramatic soundtrack.

  She simply stepped in.

  And the room noticed.

  A few students turned toward her with surprise. Whispers fluttered.

  She wasn’t in their department. She wasn’t in their class. And yet, here she was, shoulders relaxed, expression unreadable, walking in like she owned the space. Under one of the desks, a salamander, black with glinting orange streaks, scurried across the tiles.

  Students backed away.

  Someone yelped. Luca, red-faced and halfway perched on his chair, pointed.

  “It’s under there! It almost touched my shoe!”

  Mira turned toward the lizard, then crouched without hesitation. “Poor guy,” she whispered. “This must be terrifying.”

  A few phones turned toward her now. With practiced ease, she coaxed the creature into her palm. It wriggled once, then settled.

  She rose to her full height and faced the room.

  “So,” she asked, holding the salamander up gently, “whose little friend is this?”

  The laughter died. The silence stretched. Her gaze landed on a particular student near the back, Jayden, a second-year, known for his smug jokes and dramatic pranks. His smirk faltered the second their eyes met.

  “No volunteers?” Mira’s voice was light. “That’s sweet. Guess he’s mine now. I’ve always wanted a pet named after someone who confuses cruelty for comedy.”

  Jayden fidgeted. She shifted her tone, casual but edged. “Of course, you could just say sorry to Luca. Right here. Right now. Or we can go have a chat with the school ethics committee, about the animal, the risk, and the violation of about six campus policies. Oh, and by the way…”

  She turned her head slightly. “This whole thing is being recorded.” Jayden looked around. Indeed, multiple phones were still up. “Alright!” he snapped, voice tight. “I’m sorry, okay? Luca, I’m sorry.”

  And in the middle of it all, Luca finally got down from his chair, staring at the door like he wasn’t sure if what just happened was real.

  Mira gave a single nod. She stepped toward Luca and handed him the folder as if this were just another delivery. As the class began to settle again, Mira looked down at the salamander now curled gently in her palm.

  “I’ll take care of him for now,” she said, almost to herself. Then she added, louder, “He deserves a break from being someone’s punchline.”

  Jayden half-stood from his seat, unsure. “Wait, you’re not giving it back?”

  Mira didn’t even look at him. “He’ll be safer with me. You can ask again at the end of the day, if you’re feeling brave.”

  And with that, she stepped out of the classroom, the salamander tucked in a folded paper container she quickly fashioned with the folder in hand. As she left, voices followed her.

  “Who is she?”

  “Mira. First-year scholar. International Relations.”

  “Dude.”

  “She’s not scary. She’s cool.”

  “She’s terrifying, but cool.”

  Mira walked down the corridor, steady and composed, the large salamander draped along her arm like a velvet ribbon came to life. Its tail curled lightly around her wrist, and its head rested just above her elbow. Her blazer was unbuttoned, revealing a crisp white shirt tucked neatly into high-waisted trousers, the badge of the International Relations Department pinned on her chest. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, a few loose strands framing her face.

  There was something wild yet composed about her, a student who looked like she belonged both in a forest and a conference hall. Students whisper as she passes.

  “She’s carrying a lizard?”

  “No, it’s a salamander.”

  “Is that even allowed?”

  But no one dared to stop her. There’s something in the way Mira walked, unbothered, steady, like she belonged with the salamander and the world just hadn’t caught up yet. From the opposite end, Adrian approached, walking alongside a group of foreign scholars and a senior professor from the university. Their pace slowed the moment they spotted the striking girl ahead, serene, oddly dignified, with a literal creature from the wild calmly nestled in her arms. Adrian’s eyes flashed up as he noticed her, his conversation faltering ever so slightly.

  ?

  Elias sat comfortably on the couch. His short ginger hair was slightly tousled, glasses resting neatly on his nose as he read, eyes focused but relaxed. He held a pen in one hand, occasionally jotting notes in the margin.

  The scent of something sweet drifted in before the sound of footsteps did. Naomi stepped into the lounge, still wearing her apron tied neatly over a soft pink blouse and long skirt. A tiny puff of flour clung to her cheek, which she hadn’t noticed. Her dark brown hair, long and softly curled at the ends, was tied back in a loose ribbon, a few strands falling gently around her face.

  Her eyes, wide and warm like cinnamon tea, held a sparkle of pride as she carried a small plate with an assortment of dainty pastries, tiny fruit tarts and butter cookies shaped like leaves and flowers, carefully arranged. “Um… Elias?” she called softly. He looked up right away, his expression instantly softening.

  “Naomi. You’ve brought a peace offering?” She smiled, a little shyly. “Not a peace offering… Just… extra. I thought you might want some.”

  He set his book aside, clearing a spot beside him.

  “You always say that when you make them especially for someone.” Her cheeks colored just slightly as she walked over and sat down, placing the plate gently between them. “They’re not perfect, but I hope they’re okay.”

  Elias picked up a tiny tart topped with a glossy slice of strawberry.

  “They look suspiciously professional. Are you sure you’re not secretly running a bakery?”

  Naomi giggled. “That would be nice… but I think I’d spend too much time decorating and not enough making money.”

  “It’d still be the coziest bakery in the city.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling gently with a napkin. “Would you… help me taste test a few more next time? I’m thinking of trying some new seasonal ones.”

  “I’d be honored,” he said, taking a slow bite. “Though full disclosure, I’m a harsh critic. Only give five stars for emotional manipulation.”

  Naomi laughed softly, then covered her mouth with one hand, a bit embarrassed. “You’re not that harsh.”

  He gave her a mock serious look. “You’ll see.”

  Naomi leaned slightly closer without thinking, drawn to the calm warmth Elias always seemed to carry with him.

  He noticed but didn’t move away, just glanced at her again, his expression thoughtful, and perhaps just a little softer than usual. “Naomi,” he said after a moment, “you’ve got flour on your cheek.” Her eyes widened a little. “I do? Where?” “Left side.” He hesitated only briefly before reaching out and brushing it away with his thumb.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Naomi’s eyes met his. The moment stretched. “...Thank you,” she whispered.

  He smiled faintly. “Anytime.” Naomi shifted slightly, smoothing out her apron as Elias took a bite of one of the cookies.

  She watched him with anticipation, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  “So?” she asked softly, a hopeful lilt in her voice. “How was it?”

  Elias lifted his eyes to her over the rim of his glasses, chewing thoughtfully. Then he gave a small nod.

  “Smells great. Not too sweet. And it’s... my favorite type, actually.”

  Naomi’s expression brightened, her fingers fidgeting lightly with the edge of the plate.

  “I’m glad,” she said, and then after a small pause, added, “If you like them... I could maybe make some more for you. You know, for… um, extra energy. When you study too long.”

  Elias blinked, caught off guard. For a second, he just looked at her, the words hanging gently in the space between them. Then the realization seemed to sink in, and a faint flush crept to his ears. “Oh, uh, thank you. That’s... really kind. You don’t have to, though.”

  Naomi looked down, a soft smile forming as she shook her head. “I love baking. And anyway, I’ll make some for the whole group too, of course.”

  Elias gave a small huff of a laugh, his usual calm slightly off-kilter now. “Right. The whole group. Of course.” But even as he said it, the warmth in his chest stayed long after the cookie was gone.

  Naomi’s fingers still lightly clutched the edge of the plate. For a beat, the space between them felt unusually silent, a gentle hush that neither of them quite knew how to fill. Then, voices and footsteps approached.

  The door to the lounge swung open, Luca leading the charge with his usual animated energy, followed by Elara.

  “Hey! Something smells amazing, wait, is that cake?” Luca’s eyes lit up.

  Naomi straightened quickly, holding out the plate like a peace offering. “I made a few things. Please help yourselves.”

  “Naomi, you're the best,” Elara said, already reaching for a slice. “Seriously, what would we do without you?”

  As the group gathered around, chatting and laughing with the easy comfort of long-time friends, Naomi sat back down beside Elias, tucking her skirt neatly as she tried to compose herself. He offered her a quick glimpse, the earlier moment still remaining between them in the smallest way, a slight flush in their cheeks, averted eyes, an almost-smile. Luca sat down at the table, looking incredulously at Elias, Naomi, and Elara. His hands were still gesturing wildly as he recounted the event of the salamander today. They had already been chatting for a while, but Luca couldn’t stop himself from rehashing the chaos from earlier.

  “What? There’s no such rule?” Luca asked, incredulous, his brows raised in disbelief.

  Elias smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Probably Mira just made it up on the spot.”

  Luca leaned forward, shaking his head. “And the entire class bought it. You should’ve seen Jayden, he was panicking when he had to apologize to me. And then Mira just goes, ‘This salamander belongs to me until the end of the day,’ and walks off like she’s some sort of queen!”

  Naomi and Elara burst into laughter. Naomi nudged Luca playfully.

  “How long have you known Mira, Luca?”

  Luca threw his hands up in the air, groaning. “I should’ve known... She’s a pro at this stuff. Just a complete lie, wasn’t it?”

  Luca took a moment, wiping away a tear from laughing so hard, before searching around.

  “By the way, do you guys know where Mira is now?”

  Elias shrugged. “Probably in her club, doing whatever wild thing she’s planning next. Or maybe prepping for the next class...”

  Naomi asked. “She’s not gonna get into trouble for what she did today?”

  Elias smirked. “Knowing her, she’ll turn it into a whole campaign for campus reform or something.” Naomi covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle a laugh. “She didn’t really say it belongs to her until the end of the day?”

  “Oh, she did,” Elara confirmed, half a cookie already in her mouth. “And she meant it.”

  The room filled with warm laughter, the pastries disappearing piece by piece. The earlier hush between Naomi and Elias faded into the background, but every so often, their shoulders would brush, or their eyes would meet for a split second too long, tiny reminders of the moment they had shared just before the door opened.

  Meanwhile, somewhere in the campus, Jayden was in full-on panic mode. His eyes darted back and forth as he hurried from one hallway to another, looking for Mira. Not for her, exactly, but for the salamander. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around how she had handled everything earlier. One minute it was chaos, and the next, his pet was safely in her hands. He couldn’t figure out what exactly was going on in her mind. But one thing was for sure, he had to get his salamander back. He could only hope Mira was in a good mood when they crossed paths again.

  ?

  Mira moved towards a nearby table, one of the designated spaces in the greenhouse for temporary housing of creatures like this. She gently set the salamander down into a spacious glass box, prepared it with leaves, a few rocks, and water, making sure it was comfortable. With a small, almost maternal gesture, she added some food to the box, watching the salamander nibble on it contentedly. The greenhouse door eased open behind her.

  Adrian stepped in, the last trace of formality still clinging to his posture. He had just seen off the campus guests at the entrance a few minutes earlier and returned without saying much, slipping through the humidity and green. His eyes landed on the small enclosure. Then her. After a moment, his voice broke the silence.

  "So, what's with the salamander?" he asked, his tone casual but with a slight hint of curiosity.

  She smiled lightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, it happens to be accompanying me for today," she said with a shrug, her tone light and effortless.

  Adrian, watching the amphibian and asked, "How long do you plan on keeping it here?" "Just for today," she replied. "It needs a rest, but I'll make sure it’s back where it belongs by the end of the day."

  Before Adrian could respond, the sound of footsteps approached, and Jayden entered the greenhouse. His expression was a mix of impatience and uncertainty, and he immediately spotted the salamander in its enclosure. Justice the salamander had, against all odds, made himself at home, now halfway buried under moss and small pebbles like a meditating forest hermit. The door creaked open. Jayden, sheepish but trying to act cool, stepped in, searching around like he might get caught stealing snacks.

  “Uh, hey,” he said. “So, I came to get... you know, him.”

  Mira didn’t look up. “You mean Justice?”

  Jayden blinked. “You named him?”

  “He earned it.” He walked over and peered into the container.

  “Well, I need him back. My brother’s friend lent him to me. Said he’s used to being handled.”

  Mira tilted her head. “Clearly, he's evolved since then. He’s rejecting your energy now.”

  Jayden frowned. “What?” “Try picking him up.” Jayden reached in slowly. The salamander didn’t budge. He tried again. The salamander scooted deeper under the moss.

  “He’s literally ghosting me,” Jayden muttered.

  Mira rested her chin on her hand. “He’s become one with the terrarium. I think he’s found peace here.”

  Mira stood up and walked over to him, crouching beside the container. She smiled softly as she peered inside.

  “Oh, I see the problem. He’s not hiding. He’s just... not interested in you.”

  Jayden blinked. “What?” Mira chuckled. “He likes me. Watch.”

  She reached into the terrarium with slow, gentle movements. The salamander, sensing her presence, immediately shuffled toward her hand, curling up in her palm as if he had always been there. Mira lifted him up effortlessly.

  Jayden's jaw dropped. “What...”

  “Like I said,” Mira quipped, clearly pleased with herself, “he prefers me.”

  Jayden looked at her, wide-eyed. “How...?” Mira cradled the salamander carefully. “

  Maybe you’ve been giving off the wrong vibes, Jayden. Or he’s just got taste.”

  Jayden, now more confused than ever, looked at her, then at Justice. “Uh... thanks, I guess?”

  “Next time,” Mira teased, “don’t use animals as pranks. They might develop a personality... and you might not like it.”

  Jayden blinked, surprised by the request. He paused, then quickly nodded. "Yeah, I promise, no pranks. Just... don’t report this to the school ethics committee, okay?"

  "I won’t, if you keep your word."

  Noah, Ren, and Adrian had been observing the exchange, their eyes shifting between Mira and Jayden, unsure of what to make of the situation.

  As Jayden left with the salamander, Mira turned back to Adrian and the others, who watched with a mix of interest and faintly entertained disbelief.

  Adrian watched as Jayden left with the salamander, then turned to Mira, his curiosity piqued. "So, what exactly is this ethics committee you mentioned?"

  "Nothing," She said smoothly, "I just made it up to make sure my friend won’t get bullied by these cute animals in class."

  A synchronized spark lit Noah and Ren's expressions, they'd seen this move before.

  Adrian, still processing what just happened and teased, "So, you just faked the school regulation?"

  "Well, I’ll help them rewrite it sooner or later." She gave Adrian a knowing look, as if there was more to come.

  Adrian couldn’t hold back his smile anymore. His hand rubbed over his forehead, clearly entertained by how effortlessly Mira just lied, her face straight as an arrow. It was as if she truly believed her own story, selling it like it was an undeniable truth.

  "Alright, alright," he said, trying to keep his tone serious but failing,

  "If you get caught in any regulation violation or faking claims, we don’t know each other."

  Mira smirked, looking at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Excuse you," she said. "I’m the most integrity-driven student on this campus. No one will catch me violating any rules. If anything, I’ll only contribute to making them better."

  Noah bit his lip while Ren's laughter spilled out unchecked.

  "Okay, Mira," Ren managed, wiping at his eyes. "We're glad to have you here, and good luck with your new regulation."

  He made his exit before his composure fully collapsed. Noah, too, had his own class to get to, offering a smile and a nod before heading out.

  Mira turned back to the enclosure she used earlier for the salamander, starting to clean it up as Adrian waited for her by the door.

  He didn’t seem in a hurry to leave, his eyes still on her, clearly intrigued by how she managed to navigate situations with such ease. She paused, hesitated a second.

  “Hey,” she said lightly, almost as an afterthought. “You know about weird chemical stuff, right?”

  “Define weird.”

  Mira shifted, and with a rustle, pulled something from her bag, a small bundle of leaves, loosely wrapped in parchment. They weren’t showy, not the brightest. But they were clearly chosen: deep crimson, burnished gold, the kind of fragile beauty that only lasted a few days.

  “These,” she said, holding one up between her fingers like a stolen relic.

  “I want to keep them red. Not brown and crispy. You know… for a collection.”

  Adrian finally looked up with a brief smirk. “You’re asking me for help with leaf preservation?”

  “I’m asking someone who probably knows,” Mira shot back. “Don’t get cocky.”

  “There are a few ways. Glycerin, pressing, silica gel… Depends on what you want them to look like.”

  Mira didn’t skip a beat. “I want them to look like autumn frozen in time.” The rare plant greenhouse wrapped around them, warm air, the scent of moss and humidity, soft drops from the misting pipes.

  Adrian didn’t joke this time. “Then we’ll do it right,” he said. “Bring the rest tomorrow. I’ll show you how to make it last.”

  And Mira, without knowing why it made her stomach feel strange and steady at the same time, smiled like she'd just gotten away with something precious.

  ?