CHAPTER 114: SUDDEN STOPPAGE

The soft hum of music drifted lazily across the academy’s party hall, a warm undertone to the scattered chatter and laughter. Lanterns swayed gently from the rafters, their flickering light throwing mottled patterns across polished wooden floors. Glasses clinked occasionally, punctuating the general murmur with a delicate sparkle.

Jae and Elise were in a quiet corner, slightly removed from the central throng, where they could sit without being crowded by the loose swirl of students.

Elise folded her arms over her chest, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes darting between Jae and the crowd. The energy around them was carefree and unthinking, so different from the careful tension she carried in her chest.

She felt a subtle prickling of jealousy, a strange twist of unease, yet she forced herself to keep still, to observe rather than react.

Tirel approached with a confidence that seemed to slice through the crowd effortlessly, her smile bright and mischievous, and she slid into the space beside them as though she had always belonged there.

Elise felt her stomach tighten subtly, a flicker of irritation she refused to acknowledge aloud. She watched as Tirel leaned casually toward Jae, teasing with her eyes, tilting her head just so, a practiced tilt that communicated more than words could.

Jae caught it instantly and returned the look with that easy, teasing smirk of his, the kind that made Elise’s chest tighten further.

Despite the pang of jealousy, Elise forced herself to stay composed, lips pressed in a neutral line, silently analyzing their interaction.

Tirel, ever clever, didn’t exclude Elise for long. She tossed playful remarks that brushed lightly against the trio, jokes that teased Jae and invited Elise into the conversation without a word of competition. "I swear you two are conspiring already," she quipped, eyes bright.

Elise smiled faintly, caught off guard by the effortless warmth of Tirel’s inclusivity, yet her heartbeat was stubbornly aware of the closeness building between Jae and Tirel, a closeness she couldn’t quite ignore.

After a few minutes, Tirel leaned a little closer to Jae, lowering her voice in a teasing whisper that carried just enough intimacy to make Elise stiffen. "Speaking of fun things," she said, a playful edge in her tone, "how about a dance? Come on, you owe me one."

Jae hesitated, his eyes flicking toward Elise. There was a pause, heavy and loaded, as if time itself had shrunk around them, and then he smiled, smooth and controlled. "Alright, I’ll be back soon," he said, the smirk lingering in his voice. He turned his gaze to Elise and added softly, "I’ll be back soon."

Elise forced a small smile, cheeks warming as she nodded. "I won’t," she said quietly, though the flicker of jealousy that pricked at her chest refused to vanish entirely.

She watched him step away toward the dance floor, the polished wood reflecting the dim lantern light as he moved.

Her stomach twisted slightly at the sight of him, carefree and playful with another, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady the uneasy flutter of emotion inside her.

On the dance floor, Jae and Tirel moved in a slow sway to the music, bodies leaning close, the air between them humming with playful energy.

Tirel’s voice was soft and teasing, barely above the melody, "See? Much better than sitting." Jae smirked, the corners of his mouth quirking upward, "You’re not wrong."

Their hands brushed lightly now and then, fingers grazing in a deliberate, teasing rhythm that made the space between them feel charged.

The dim lighting and shifting shadows lent a private intimacy to the moment, the crowd around them fading into peripheral blur as their connection intensified.

Elise’s eyes lingered on the scene, heart tight, jaw clenching as she watched their easy laughter, the subtle physical closeness that teased her patience.

The music felt heavier now, the lanterns too bright, every movement of Jae’s a pointed reminder of her own solitude. She shifted in her chair, the wooden floor pressing uncomfortably against her legs as she made a quiet decision.

Silently, without announcing it, she rose and stepped outside. The door clicked softly behind her, and the cool night air struck her sharply, causing goosebumps to rise along her arms.

She inhaled deeply, the chill clearing her mind, though her chest still throbbed with unspent tension.

Outside, the breeze was crisp and fragrant with the scent of the academy gardens, the subtle sweetness of night-blooming flowers mingled with the earthy tang of damp soil.

The distant laughter and music from inside felt like a separate world, light and carefree, while she stood alone in the shadowed courtyard.

For a moment, she allowed herself a private sigh, releasing the tight coil of jealousy and discomfort, letting the quiet of the night wrap around her like a shield.

But then a ripple of tension rose from the doorway, and the soft murmur of the party was abruptly punctured by sharp panic.

A student burst in, voice cracking with alarm, "Monsters! They’re attacking the school!" The words cut through the calm, shattering the delicate bubble of night Elise had just slipped into.

The music stumbled, then halted altogether, replaced by gasps, shouts, and the low murmur of disbelief spreading like wildfire.

Inside the hall, conversations faltered mid-sentence, faces turned toward the doorway, eyes wide with shock.

The festive atmosphere evaporated instantly, replaced by confusion, fear, and the realization that the evening had transformed into chaos within heartbeats.

Whispers rippled through the crowd, hushed but frantic: "What? Monsters?" "Is this some kind of joke?" "Is anyone hurt?" The disbelief was palpable, hanging in the air like a thick fog.

For a tense moment, no one moved, frozen between the comforting familiarity of laughter and music and the harsh, terrifying intrusion of reality. The easy joy of the party was shattered, replaced by sharp tension and an undercurrent of dread. The smell of spilled drinks mingled with the faint metallic tang of fear, and the lanterns flickered as if uncertain themselves of what to illuminate. Every heartbeat seemed unnaturally loud, every movement slowed, as students processed the sudden threat.