Chapter two
1793 Words
Celestia woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly… normal. No lingering butterflies, no warm flush in her cheeks, no daydream replaying the unexpected hallway kiss. She didn’t wake up clutching her pillow and thinking about Blaze’s mouth on hers. If anything, she woke up thirsty, groggy, and slightly embarrassed that her first ever reckless kiss had happened in public.
And with a stranger.
A hot stranger, sure—she wasn’t blind—but still a stranger.
She brushed her teeth aggressively, as though she could scrub out the memory along with last night’s cheap vodka aftertaste. By the time she tied her hair into a messy bun and pulled on her usual jeans and oversized sweater, she had convinced herself the whole thing didn’t matter. It had been an impulse. An accident. A moment she’d let happen because she was tired, hungover, and caught off guard.
And because his lips had felt stupidly soft.
No. Not thinking about that.
She packed her bag and headed to her morning shift at the school library, her safe space—the place where nothing unpredictable happened. The quiet hum of students, the gentle scent of old paper, the predictable rhythm of shelving and scanning. She needed that.
The library was calm, almost peaceful when she arrived. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, dust floating lazily in the golden beams. She took her place behind the front desk, logged in, and let the familiar routine tuck her brain back into order.
For almost two hours, everything went perfectly.
Students came and went, returning textbooks, asking where biology journals were, complaining about deadlines. Celestia managed it all with her usual calm smile.
It wasn’t until she went to shelve a stack of returned books near the literature section that her peace shattered.
She turned the corner between tall shelves—and froze.
Pressed against the far side of the shelf was him.
Blaze.
His hands were on some girl’s waist, the girl’s arms looped around his neck, their mouths so entangled it looked like a scene straight off a movie poster. Celestia blinked once. Twice. Her mind didn’t even register the disbelief first—it jumped straight to irritation.
Seriously?
In the library?
At her workplace?
Her stomach tightened—not from jealousy, but from insult. The audacity. The lack of respect for the space. The way he was making a spectacle in a place she took seriously.
She took a sharp breath and dropped the books she was holding onto the nearest table with a thud.
The girl startled and pulled away. Blaze looked up.
And their eyes met.
Recognition flickered across his face—surprise, then something that looked like amusement.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Celestia was already marching forward.
“What the actual hell?” she snapped.
The girl blinked at her, confused. Blaze just raised a brow.
“This is a library,” Celestia gestured wildly around them. “An actual academic library, not your personal hookup lounge.”
Blaze wiped his lower lip with his thumb—annoyingly casual. “We weren’t—”
“Oh, please,” Cel cut him off. “Save it. If you want to be a manwhore, go do it somewhere else.”
The girl gasped. Blaze’s jaw tightened, but his eyes remained locked on Celestia.
“You kiss a random girl in a hallway,” she continued, voice getting sharper, “and now you’re doing this in the stacks? Ugh. Guys like you are one genre away from being the villain in every teenage girl’s cautionary tale.”
Around them, students peeked from between shelves, whispering.
Blaze stepped forward. “Celestia—”
“Don’t.” She put up a hand. “Just don’t.”
She grabbed the fallen books and stormed away, ignoring the heat in her cheeks—not from embarrassment, but from fury. She didn’t expect anything from that kiss, but she certainly didn’t expect this to be the first time seeing him after.
She refused to let him ruin her mood for more than thirty seconds.
---
Her shift had barely started when she saw Blaze approaching the desk, hands in his pockets, hair slightly messy—not from kissing someone this time, she hoped—but from existing.
He stopped right in front of her.
“Morning,” he said.
She didn’t look up from the computer. “If you’re lost, the door is behind you.”
“Harsh,” he said lightly. “But I deserve that.”
“You deserve a restraining order,” she muttered.
He leaned on the desk, trying to catch her eyes. “About yesterday—”
“No,” she cut him off sharply. “I’m not having a conversation with you. Please leave.”
“I just want to apologize.”
“For what?” She finally looked at him, raising a brow. “For making out with someone in the library, or for being an inconsiderate jerk?”
“For giving you the wrong impression.”
She scoffed. “I don’t care about impressions. I care about boundaries. I work here. It’s my job to keep the place respectable. And you—” she jabbed a finger toward him “—were anything but.”
Blaze didn’t get defensive. Instead, he exhaled slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully.
“Look… the kiss in the hallway—it wasn’t planned. I panicked, and you were the first person I saw.”
“Well,” she said coldly, “use someone else as your human shield next time.”
Then she turned back to her screen and started typing deliberately.
The message was clear.
Conversation over.
He got it.
He straightened, stepped back, and nodded once. “Okay. Point taken.”
And then he walked out.
Celestia waited until he disappeared before letting out a long breath.
Good. That was the end of that.
---
“Babe!” Grace practically slammed into her during lunch break, tray wobbling in her hands. “Tell me everything.”
Celestia frowned. “About what?”
Grace’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Rumor says you yelled at some hot mystery guy in the library.”
Of course the rumor spread. Cel put her head in her hands.
“It wasn’t—ugh, whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
Grace giggled. “So who was he? Why was he making out in the reading section? And why were you so mad? Spill!”
“I wasn’t mad at him. I was mad about the location. And the disrespect. And—”
“And the kiss?” Grace cut in.
Cel threw a napkin at her. “Stop bringing that up.”
“Oh, so you did kiss him.”
Celestia glared. “Grace…”
Grace smirked triumphantly. “Fine, fine. I’ll let it go. For now.”
Cel rolled her eyes and picked at her fries.
“You know what you need?” Grace said suddenly.
“A nap?”
“A distraction.”
Cel made a face. “Grace—”
“Don’t argue,” Grace continued. “Tonight, there’s a party at Spectrum Lounge. Huge one. Seniors-only vibe. Music, lights, everything. You need air. You need to stop thinking about library boys and annoying exes.”
Celestia stiffened. “Grace, I told you—after everything with Eric I don’t want to go out.”
Grace’s face softened. “I know. I know you’re hurting. He was your first real relationship and he ended it like a coward. But you’ve been cooped up. And yesterday you snapped at someone so hard the entire English department is still talking about it.”
Cel groaned. “Kill me.”
“No,” Grace said sweetly. “I’m taking you shopping.”
“What?”
“After class,” Grace grabbed her wrist. “We’re finding you a dress. A sexy dress. A reminder that you’re a goddess and Eric is an idiot.”
Celestia opened her mouth to argue, but Grace narrowed her eyes.
“Say no,” Grace challenged. “I dare you.”
Cel sighed heavily. “Fine.”
Grace squealed loud enough for nearby tables to look over.
---
The boutique Grace dragged her into after classes looked far too glamorous for Celestia’s comfort—golden lighting, glossy mannequins, dresses glittering like they were dipped in stars.
“I don’t belong here,” Cel muttered as they walked in.
“You do,” Grace insisted. “You’re just allergic to fun.”
“I’m allergic to crop tops,” Cel corrected.
“Lucky for you, we’re not buying a crop top.”
Grace sifted through racks with frightening determination.
“This one,” she announced, holding a deep wine-red mini dress. Satin, soft, form-fitting, with thin straps and a neckline that dipped just enough to be sinful.
Celestia stared at it like it had insulted her family.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Grace thrust it into her arms. “To the dressing room. Now.”
Cel cursed softly but obeyed. In the small dressing room, she slipped into the dress and looked in the mirror.
Her heart stuttered.
The dress hugged her curves without being vulgar. The deep red made her skin glow. Her collarbone and shoulders looked elegant. Her waist looked… small. She looked—
Confident.
Beautiful.
Alive.
Grace banged on the door. “Let me see!”
Cel opened it tentatively.
Grace let out a dramatic gasp. “Holy—YES. That is the dress. I am buying it for you.”
Celestia shook her head. “Grace, it’s too much—”
“Shut up. This is your heartbreak dress. Every girl needs at least one.”
Cel looked back at her reflection.
For the first time in weeks, she smiled genuinely.
---
Later that night, as she stood in front of the mirror in their dorm, applying a touch of gloss and brushing her hair, she felt something unfamiliar.
Excitement.
Not for guys. Not for drama. Not for Blaze or Eric or anyone else.
For herself.
Grace burst into the room wearing a glittery silver dress. “Oh my God, you’re stunning!”
Cel laughed. “You’re the one who pressured me into this.”
“And you’re welcome.”
They looked at each other in the mirror—two girls trying to survive college, heartbreak, life.
“Are we doing this?” Cel asked.
Grace held out her hand dramatically. “We’re doing this.”
Celestia took it.
And for the first time in a long while, she was ready for something new.
Not a boy. Not romance.
Just a night where she wasn't Celestia-the-student or Celestia-the-librarian or Celestia-the-heartbroken.
Just Celestia.
And that was enough.
- Writer
