What I held close

(Fiona’s POV)

“Fiona,” his deep husky voice called me gently.

I turned, and there he was—walking toward me looking as calm as I've always known his eyes narrowed straight into mine—that always made my breath hitch. Before I could say anything, Jalen pulled me into a firm, protective hold that made my eyes tingle with relief.

“I’m sorry about everything,” he whispered against my ear and pulled away. “I know how your parents can be, but you're safe now,” he added, his jaw tightened.

“Thank you for defending me, but this might be a lot of trouble,” I said. And he nodded, flashing a lazy smile at me.

“Did Marian say anything to you?” he asked.

I swallowed, the memory of Marian’s cold smirk burning through me.

“Jalen…” I paused, I couldn't bring myself to tell him what his witch of a wife said to me.

He cupped the back of my head, resting his forehead against mine. “I’ll protect you from her. I don’t care what she thinks, I won't let her be cruel to you.”

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket. For a moment, all I saw was his eyes, his warmth, the promise lingering in his tone, and the man who is not afraid to protect me regardless. It felt like I was with a father I never had but with a deeper emotion.

But before I could respond, a voice screamed my name across the car park.

“FIONA!”

We both jerk off eachother, turning to see where the voice was coming from, but I already knew who it was.

Paris, she ran toward me like she was about to save a dying life. She looked between Jalen and me, the look on her face had already given away her thoughts—confusion and suspicion.

“I was looking everywhere for you, you disappeared before the sport ended, are you okay?” she panted. Then she looked at Jalen again,

“Hello, Prof” Jalen only nodded though his eyes never left mine. He straightened, cleared his throat, and stepped back. “You both should head inside. It’s getting late.”

His voice shifted back to the authoritative tone he wore during work hours. He gave my shoulder a subtle squeeze that felt like a silent reassurance before walking away toward the administration building.

Paris watched him until he disappeared from view, then turned to me with a frown.

“What was that about?” she asked, her voice bound with concern as we started walking toward the hostel buildings.

“Nothing,” I said too quickly.

Paris arched a brow. “Really? Because from the way he held you, that I saw with my open eyes it wasn’t ‘nothing’. And you look like you’re about to cry or scream or both.”

Her words pressed against a fragile part of me. And the pressure only grew as she waited for me to speak.

I let out a suppressed sigh as I kept walking, hoping she’d drop it—but Paris never lets anything slide.

“Fi, talk to me,” she insisted. “You look worried than usual.”

I slapped my forehead, rubbing in my frustration. “Paris, not now please.”

“No,” she said stubbornly, blocking my path. “I’m your best friend. Something is going on. Tell me.” Her eyes softened when she saw the exhaustion in my face. “Please.” she pleaded.

I looked away, pulling my thoughts into a negotiation, I never wanted anyone to know about Jalen and i, at least not like this. But Paris wasn't going to give up and maybe I could have someone my age who I could make use of their advice.

“Fine,” I whispered.

We continued walking, the evening breeze brushing past us as I gathered my thoughts.

“Jude…” I swallowed hard, feeling a bit disgusted and worried. “He tried to force himself on me yesterday.”

Paris stopped walking, shock glued to her face—her lips parted widely as she stared ahead of her without blinking.

“What?” she suddenly screamed. Her face twisted in disbelief.

“Fiona… Jude wouldn’t do that.”

My heart dropped. “He did. I’m not gonna make up such a story at anyone for no reason. I know what happened.”

“No,” she cut in quickly, shaking her head. “You must’ve misunderstood. Jude flirts, yes, but he wouldn’t—”

“Paris!” My voice echoed sharply. “He pinned me down. He tried to touch me. I didn’t misunderstand that, and why are you defending him?”

She stared at me, I could tell she was struggling between her loyalty to me and her feelings for him.

“Jude isn’t like that…” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. “I mean—he has his flaws, but he wouldn’t try to hurt you.”

“That’s exactly what he did!” I snapped. “Why is it so hard for you to believe me, do you love him?”

Her eyes filled with tears, and fear. “I love him, Fiona! And I don’t want to believe he’s capable of something that horrible.”

I froze.

Her confession hung in the air, heavy and heartbreaking.

Paris looked away, ashamed. “I know how it sounds, but I just… I can’t accept it. Not like this. Not without hearing his side.”

I stared at her, stunned and disappointed. “You want to hear his side? What would he even say—‘oh I'm sorry, I have feelings for her and I thought it was mutual’?”

Paris winced. “Stop.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I needed my best friend to stand with me. And instead… you’re standing with him.”

Her tears brimmed. “It’s not like that.”

“It is.”

Silence stretched between us. A silence that felt cold, and sharp.

Paris wiped her eyes. “I think we both need space.” she sniffed, and I felt bad, my heart sank as I gazed at her.

Before I could respond, she turned, walked away, and disappeared through the hallway door.

I stood there for a long moment, feeling the ache sink deep in my chest. Losing Jude’s friendship was one thing. Losing Paris’s trust felt like a punch I wasn’t prepared for.

When I finally entered my room, the quiet felt louder, I could hear my heartbeat in my ears My eyes fell on the unfinished painting held up near my desk—the portrait of Jalen. His eyes stared at me like he was with me.

I walked Oder to it, slouching into my stool, took a brush, and let the strokes soothe me. His jawline, the shadow beneath his eyes, the curve of his mouth. Slowly, the chaos in my chest eased with each careful blend of color. Finishing it felt like the only thing keeping me from pulverizing.

I imagined the look he might give me when I give it to him when I visit during the holiday. I imagined that tender look he sometimes couldn’t hide. The thought warmed me and docked me.

Hours passed without me noticing. I was adding the final touches to the background when my phone vibrated with a notification.

I glanced at the screen.

The school’s official portal had sent out an announcement.

I immediately opened it like I had been waiting for it all day.

Important Notice: Due to an urgent renovation project coupled with the mid-semester holiday, all students will be required to return home for a few months. The holiday will begin earlier than planned. More updates will follow.

My brush slipped from my fingers as I tried to digest what I just read.

“A few months? Away from school?” I didn't want to stay home that long but the thought of spending the whole of it with Jalen brought a faint smile to my face.

My breath caught as the weight of the message settled over me.