The hallway leading to Seraphina Ashwood's office felt longer than usual.

It felt like walking down a gallows.

Marcus Aldridge adjusted his collar. It felt tight against his throat.

The Academy was quiet in the evening. Most students were in the outside the campus.

The silence amplified the sound of his boots on the stone floor.

He reached the familiar oak door.

He had stood here many times before.

Usually, he came with flowers. Or coffee. Or a terrible excuse about his brother.

Today, he brought nothing but the truth.

He knocked.

"Enter," Seraphina's voice called.

It was calm. Professional.

Marcus pushed the door open.

Seraphina was sitting at her desk. She was grading papers.

The magical lantern cast a warm glow over her platinum hair.

She looked up. Her eyes softened when she saw him.

"Marcus," she said. "I wasn't expecting you."

She put down her quill.

"Did Theodore break another training dummy?"

"No," Marcus said.

He closed the door behind him. He didn't sit down.

"Theo is fine. This isn't about him."

Seraphina sensed the shift in his mood. Her smile faded slightly.

She leaned back in her chair.

"You look serious," she noted.

"I am," Marcus said. "I need to tell you something."

He took a breath. The air tasted of ink and parchment.

"It might change everything between us."

Seraphina's expression tightened. The 'Ice Queen' mask flickered into place.

"Are you ending things?" she asked quietly. "Before they even began?"

"No," Marcus said quickly. "I want to begin. But I can't build a foundation on lies."

He walked closer to the desk.

He needed to see her eyes. He needed her to see his.

"I am not who you think I am," Marcus stated.

Seraphina frowned. "What does that mean?"

"The man named Marcus Aldridge died months ago," Marcus said.

He saw her flinch.

"I am... a visitor," he continued. "I am occupying his life."

He watched her process the words.

She didn't laugh. She didn't call for the guards. She waited.

Last time he said something about another world and something like 'transmigration' or whatever. But

Marcus... died? Seraphina thought with horror.

Does that mean the person she fell for... died? Again?

Wait did I fall for the Marcus who died or the... this visitor? a cold knot formed inside her heart

Hooo... Calm down, Sera. Calm. Done.

"I come from a place called Earth," Marcus said. "We have no magic. We have towers of glass and metal."

He spoke rapidly now. He was afraid if he stopped, he would lose his nerve.

"In my world, I was a counselor. I helped people find direction."

"A guide," Seraphina whispered.

"Yes," Marcus said. "But that is the easy part."

He gripped the edge of her desk.

"Before I came here, I read a story. A story about this world."

Seraphina's eyes narrowed. "A prophecy?"

"A novel," Marcus corrected. "A book of entertainment."

He swallowed hard.

"In that story, there was a hero. The Child of Destiny."

"Theodore," she realized.

"Yes. And the story said he would save the world by forming alliances."

Marcus looked down at his hands.

"Romantic alliances."

The room was deathly silent.

"He was supposed to bond with four powerful women," Marcus said. "Their combined strength would defeat the Demon Lord."

He looked up at her.

"You were one of them, Seraphina."

Her face went pale.

Marcus did say something like this last time as well.

But Seraphina put that thing back in her mind, thinking it as some rambling of Marcus due to sleep deprivation

"I knew who you were before we met," Marcus confessed. "I knew your history. I knew your role."

He forced himself to keep eye contact.

"I approached you to help Theo. I wanted to push you toward him. I wanted to secure the alliance to save the world."

Seraphina stood up slowly.

Her movements were stiff.

"So," she said. Her voice was brittle.

"The flowers. The coffee. The listening."

She looked at him with eyes that had turned to glaciers.

"It was a checklist?"

"At first," Marcus said.

"And my grief?" she asked. "My husband? Was that in your book too?"

"Yes," Marcus admitted.

"You used my pain," she said. "To advance the plot."

"I tried to fix it," Marcus said. "I tried to help."

"You manipulated me," Seraphina corrected.

She walked around the desk. She stood in front of him.

She didn't look like a lover. She looked like an A-Rank combat mage.

"So I was just a conquest," she said. "A plot point to be checked off."

"No," Marcus said.

"Don't lie to me!" Seraphina snapped.

Sparks of lightning crackled around her fingers.

"You told me I was allowed to be weak," she said. Her voice shook. "You told me it was okay to be tired."

She stepped closer.

"Was that a line from your world? Did you rehearse it?"

"I meant every word," Marcus said.

"How can I believe you?" she demanded. "You are an alien soul in a stolen body."

She gestured to the room.

"You made me feel seen. For the first time in years."

Tears welled in her eyes. But they were angry tears.

"But you weren't seeing me," she accused. "You were reading a page."

The accusation hung in the air.

It hurt more than any spell she could cast.

Because it was partially true.

And that was the tragedy of it.

✧✧✧

Marcus did not back away.

The lightning around her fingers was dangerous.

But her eyes were devastated.

"You are right," Marcus said softly.

Seraphina blinked. She hadn't expected him to agree.

"When I walked into your classroom that first day," Marcus said. "I saw a character. I saw the 'Ice Queen Instructor'."

He stepped forward. Into her personal space.

"I saw a widow who needed to move on so the hero could get his army."

Seraphina flinched. The bluntness wounded her.

"I was arrogant," Marcus admitted. "I thought I could fix the world like a broken clock."

He looked at the coat rack in the corner.

His coat was still there. The one he had draped over her weeks ago.

"But then we talked," Marcus said.

He turned back to her.

"You told me about the pressure. You told me about the loneliness."

He reached out. He hesitated. Then he took her hand.

Her skin was cold. But the lightning had faded.

"Books don't have heartbeats, Seraphina."

He squeezed her hand gently.

"The character in the story was two-dimensional. She was a trope."

He looked deep into her eyes.

"You are messy. You are stubborn. You burn your tea because you get distracted by grading."

A flicker of surprise crossed her face.

"The story didn't tell me that," Marcus said. "I learned that."

He stepped closer.

"My feelings evolved. They changed from duty to... this."

He placed his other hand over hers.

"I stopped caring about the prophecy weeks ago. I stopped caring about the plot."

"Then why tell me?" Seraphina whispered.

"Because you deserve to know," Marcus said. "I respect you too much to keep you in the dark."

He let go of her hand.

He stepped back. He gave her space.

"I am not the hero," Marcus said. "I am just a man who got a second chance."

He looked at her with open vulnerability.

"And I fell in love with the woman who taught me that strength isn't invincibility."

Seraphina stared at him.

The silence stretched.

She looked at her desk. She looked at the papers she had been grading.

She looked back at him.

The anger was still there. But the devastation had receded.

"You expect me to forgive you," she stated.

"No," Marcus said. "I expect nothing."

"Good," Seraphina said.

She walked back to her chair. She sat down heavily.

She looked exhausted.

"This is... a lot," she said. "Aliens. Prophecies. It sounds like madness."

"I know," Marcus said.

"But you seem sane," she noted. "Which makes it worse."

She picked up her quill. She turned it over in her fingers.

"I don't hate you, Marcus."

Marcus let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"But I don't trust you right now," she added.

The words stung. But they were fair.

"I feel..." She paused. She searched for the word. "Unbalanced."

She looked at him.

"I thought we were building something together. Now I find out you had the blueprints the whole time."

"I threw the blueprints away," Marcus said.

"Maybe," Seraphina said. "But I need to verify that."

She pointed to the door.

"Please leave."

Marcus nodded. He accepted the judgment.

"Will you speak to me again?" he asked.

"I don't know," Seraphina said honestly. "I need to think. I need to process."

She looked down at her papers.

"I need to figure out which parts of us were real."

"All of it," Marcus said.

"That is for me to decide," Seraphina replied sharply.

She didn't look up again.

Marcus turned.

He walked to the door.

He paused with his hand on the latch.

"Thank you for listening," he said.

Seraphina didn't answer.

He opened the door and walked out.

The hallway was still quiet.

But the silence felt different now.

It wasn't the silence of anticipation.

It was the silence of a bridge that had just been burned.

Marcus hoped the foundation was strong enough to rebuild it.

But as he walked into the night, he wasn't sure.

He had told the truth.

And the truth had hurt her.

Now, he had to do it all over again.

.

.

.

A/N:

Took me a while to write this whole conversation

How was it? Was I able to express the tension of the situation? Or was it bad or just mid?

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.