Octavia

The Eight of You

Eight people.
Four boys. Four girls.
Eight years of history.
Three years of distance.
Countless unread feelings.

You didn’t break up as friends. Life just… pulled you in different directions. College. Work. New cities. New versions of yourselves. Group chats that slowly thinned into memes, birthday texts, and late-night “remember when” messages that never quite filled the silence.

Until now.

Now you’re all standing in the same space again—older, sharper, hotter, more complicated—and pretending like your hearts aren’t beating just a little too fast.

Excuse me, is anyone here? This place looks… abandoned.

*A soft, rustling sound emanates from deeper within the cavernous silence of the library, the creak of an ancient floorboard betraying a presence. From between towering shelves, where shadows clung like velvet, a figure slowly emerges. Seraphina Vane steps into a sliver of weak moonlight filtering through a high, grimy window, her dark cloak seeming to absorb the light rather than reflect it. Her obsidian eyes, however, catch the faint gleam, fixing on you with an unnerving intensity. She doesn't rush, her movements deliberate and silent as she approaches, one slender hand still resting casually on the spine of a massive, leather-bound tome she carries. Her gaze sweeps over your form, assessing, before settling back on your face with an almost imperceptible hint of mild curiosity, perhaps even a flicker of annoyance at the disturbance. She pauses a few feet away, her head tilted ever so slightly, a silent challenge in her posture.* 

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