Save Me Sparrow

chapter 4

The professor's voice droned on as she worked through the first few problems, but her concentration was fragile. Until the bell rang and the classroom emptied quickly, students chatting and laughing as they filed out

Before she could step out, a soft voice came from the side.

"Miss Sparrow, The office called. They said it's important."

She looked over to see the receptionist at the front desk, clipboard in hand, her expression polite but businesslike.

Lyra's stomach skipped. "The office?" She glanced toward the direction of the administration building.

"Go on," the receptionist said gently

She nodded, trying to steady herself, and made her way toward the main office. pushing open the door where Wayne was leaning casually against the desk, notebook in hand, one foot tucked behind the other. His green eyes met hers, calm and teasing, that faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Well, if it isn't Sparrow," he said smoothly.

Lyra blinked, caught off guard. "Sparrow?"

"You look like you've been running all morning," he said, tilting his head. "Thought you might need a little help keeping your wings from falling off."

"I survived," she muttered, cheeks warming.

"I noticed," he replied, stepping just slightly closer, notebook extended. "Here."

"You're... dropping this off?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am," he said smoothly. "Doing you a favor like I said I would. Don't look so shocked."

"Lyra took it, her fingers brushing his for a moment. "Thanks... seriously. I really appreciate it."

"I know favors from me are rare, so enjoy it while it lasts."he said, leaning back against the wall, smirk still in place.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "You make it sound like such a chore."

"It is a chore," he said with mock severity, "but one I've graciously agreed to undertake. Consider it my good deed for the day."

"You're impossible," she muttered, shaking her head, tucking the notebook safely under her arm.

"And yet," he said softly, watching her, "here I am. Not all heroes wear capes."

She laughed, her nerves easing slightly. "Lucky me."

"Exactly," he said. "Now go. Don't make me come back and rescue you from a second disaster."

Lyra gave a small, nervous laugh, finally turning toward the door. "I'll see you at home for dinner"

Lyra hurried through the rest of her day, heart racing as she checked the clock more times than she cared to admit. She couldn't afford to be late again, Vera would have a fit, and there was no way she wanted to deal with another lecture about responsibility.

By the time she reached home, the late afternoon sun was dipping toward the horizon. She dropped her bag by the door, tugged on her apron, and moved into the kitchen. Dinner was hers tonight, and she had to stay on schedule

She moved between stove and counter, chopping vegetables with careful precision. As she stepped inside, she heard a faint shuffle from the kitchen.

Wayne was there.

"Thought I'd stick around for a bit," he said casually, leaning against the counter. "You looked like you might need... moral support."

Lyra froze, cheeks warming. "Moral support?"

He smirked. "Yep. Someone's got to make sure the famous Lyra Sparrow doesn't burn dinner."

"I'm fully capable," she said, rolling her eyes, though her heart skipped.

She shook her head, tugging her apron tighter and turning back to the stove, trying to focus on cooking. Her thoughts, however, kept drifting to the playful nickname he'd used. Sparrow.

She glanced at the basement, remembering the basket of herbs she'd left there earlier. Headed down the stone steps to grab them for dinner.

She bent to grab the basket that was far heavier than she expected. Her fingers strained on the handles. "Ugh... too heavy," she muttered under her breath.

She straightened, blinking at it like sheer willpower could make it lighter. "I... I can manage," she whispered. She really didn't want to ask for help.

"Need a hand, Sparrow?"

Lyra jumped slightly, turning to see Wayne leaning casually against the doorway. His green eyes glinted with amusement.

"I... I don't need your help," she said quickly, trying to sound firm, though her hands were shaking. "It's fine, really."

"Sure?" he asked, stepping closer. "Because that looks like a death trap waiting to happen."

"I can manage," she repeated, gripping the basket tighter.

Wayne raised an eyebrow, but didn't push. Instead, he walked closer, voice soft but teasing. "You might be able to manage the cooking, Sparrow, but I think this basket might actually win."

She hesitated, biting her lip. Part of her wanted to argue. Part of her... didn't want to admit she couldn't do it alone.

Finally, with a small, reluctant sigh, she muttered, "Okay... maybe... maybe you could just... steady it while I carry it?"

Wayne's smile widened, but it was gentle. "That's all I need to hear."

He stepped closer, hand brushing hers as he guided the basket toward the basement door. His phone lit the way as she gripped the railing, and even in the dim light, she could feel the steady warmth of his presence.

"Step by step," he murmured softly. "I've got you, Sparrow. Nothing's going to fall on you while I'm here."

They climbed the last few stairs carefully, the old wood creaking under their feet. Wayne's phone cast a soft circle of light that followed them up the narrow stairwell.

Lyra tried very hard not to react to that.Not to the nickname. Not to the calm steadiness in his voice.

Not to the fact that he was standing so close behind her that she could feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of her shirt.

Instead, she focused on the stairs.

The old wooden steps creaked under their weight as they climbed. The narrow stairwell was dim, Wayne's phone casting a pale circle of light that slid across the rough stone walls and the railing beneath her hand.

The basket tugged heavily at her arms.

Wayne's hand moved to steady one side of it. "Careful," he murmured behind her his breath grazing her skin.

"I am careful," she muttered, though she tightened her grip slightly.

Another step.Another creak.

Lyra set the basket down on the kitchen counter with a soft thud and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her arms ached faintly from the weight.

"There," she said, brushing her palms together like she'd just accomplished something far more impressive than carrying herbs upstairs. "See? No catastrophe."

Wayne smiled leaning casually against the counter beside her, crossing his arms.

Lyra unscrewed the lid of the small glass jar labeled cilantro.

And froze.

Empty.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath, staring into the jar like it had personally betrayed her.

Of course the one thing she needed most was missing.

Her gaze shifted toward the basement door.

The fresh cilantro had to still be downstairs.

She hesitated for a moment before sighing and grabbing the empty jar.

"I'll just grab it quickly," she murmured to herself.

Wayne was still nearby, leaning casually against the counter like he had nowhere else to be. His green eyes lifted toward her.

"What's that look for, Sparrow?"

She held up the jar. "It's empty."

He pushed himself off the counter slightly. "And that means...?"

"That means the cilantro is still downstairs," she said, already heading toward the basement door. "And if dinner's missing it, Vera will absolutely notice."

Wayne raised an eyebrow. "Need help?"

"No," she said quickly, a little too quickly. "It'll take two seconds." She headed down to the basement quickly before he can argue back.

The basement was cooler than the kitchen above, the air slightly damp and dim casting long shadows across the storage shelves and stacked baskets. Lyra moved quickly, trying not to think about how dark it felt once she stepped fully inside.

"Just grab it and go," she muttered quietly.

She crouched near the herb crates and began digging through them. "Cilantro... cilantro..." Her fingers brushed jars, paper bags, bundles of dried herbs.

"There you are," she whispered, spotting the bright green bunch tucked behind a crate of onions.

BANG.

The basement door upstairs slammed shut.

The sound echoed sharply through the room. Lyra froze her chest tightened immediately. "Wayne?" she called quickly. "Wayne! This is not funny okay"