Chapter Text
“Queen to E4,” he said flatly, crossing his arms over his chest in a satisfied manner while leaning back in his chair.
Her eyes squinted in concentration, one hand resting at her chin. He couldn't help but notice how cute she looked, furrowing her brows and pouting her lips as she examined the chessboard.
“Pawn to C7,” she said quietly.
Viktor's mind lit up at the opening she had just created. He swiftly moved his second queen to D8, watching as dread slowly crept across her face. A smirk tugged at his lips.
“Check,” he teased, making sure to emphasise the “k” sound. Viktor leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he gazed at Violet, the playful smirk still plastered on his face. Her mouth gaped open in disbelief, her eyes frantically scanning the board for a way to save her king from its impending doom.
Unfortunately for Violet, Viktor had laid out his pieces too well. There was no way for her to defend herself, and the game ended in yet another checkmate — Viktor’s third win in a row.
Violet groaned, placing her hands over her face as she slumped back into the soft cushions of her seat. Viktor’s chuckle echoed in her ears.
They were at their usual café, a cosy little spot just outside campus, offering customers a variety of board games to play while enjoying their drinks. Viktor was already a regular there, and after Violet expressed interest in learning chess, he had agreed to teach her.
Both were in their usual corner: a low, round table by the wall, with one chair and a built-in sofa. Violet had her usual matcha, and Viktor was sipping on his English tea.
Violet sighed, flopping back into the cushions and staring at the ceiling as if the answer to her defeat might be written there. How am I so bad at this?
You’re not bad, you’re learning. I was horrible too when I started,
Viktor said, trying to console her.
Are you suggesting I’m ‘horrible’ at chess?
Violet quipped, raising a brow playfully.
Wha— no! That’s not what I meant!
Viktor laughed, taking a sip of his tea. There are times when you win, and times when you lose. You learn more from your losses than your wins,
he added as he tidied the pieces. Violet reached out to help him.
It’s easy to say that when you’re winning all the time,
Violet muttered, collecting the black chess pieces and neatly placing them in their designated spots. Viktor did the same with the white pieces.
They played one last game while finishing their tea. As expected, Viktor won again.
You really had me in the last game,
Viktor said as he held the door open. Nearly took my queen.
She dipped her head in thanks and stepped outside into the cold air, immediately burying her nose in her scarf.
The winter holidays were nearing their end. Violet and Nicky were the only ones from their friend group who had stayed in Ratford over the break. Collete had just returned from Paris the day before, and Paulina had arrived from Spain that afternoon—Nicky had gone to meet her at the airport. Pamela wasn’t planning to come back until the weekend.
Viktor had also stayed in Ratford, his parents visiting him and his twin sister, Vanilla, to celebrate Christmas.
“Did your parents go to the New Year’s concert in Vienna?” Violet asked as the snow crunched beneath their feet.
“Yeah, they probably went with my Großmutter. She wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Viktor said with a fond smile.
Violet’s lips curved up slightly.
“My parents are probably buried in rehearsals for the Lunar New Year concerts,” she murmured, brushing a layer of snow from her bangs. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s a shame I won’t be able to see them,”
Viktor noticed the sadness in her eyes. He imagined how tough it must be for her, being so far from her family and struggling to stay in touch due to their busy schedules. Viktor found himself searching for something to cheer Violet up. He would never admit it out loud, but he sought her happiness—it filled him up. Seeing her smile made him happy, and when he was the reason for it, his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.
“Hey, the exchange students are coming next week, right?”
Madame Radcliffe, head of the Arts Faculty, had arranged for an exchange program with a prestigious ballet school in St. Petersburg. Aspiring dancers from Ratford would spend a semester there, while the students who remained would train alongside professional dancers, learning new techniques.
Viktor knew Violet had once been a ballet dancer. Her elegant movements, slim figure, and surprising strength had given it away before she confirmed it weeks ago. He had grown up watching ballet in Vienna, and she reminded him of the ballerinas from his childhood.
“Yeah, I think so. Oh! I forgot to tell you!” Violet placed a hand on Viktor’s arm, her eyes lighting up. “Madame Radcliffe wants me to help the exchange students settle in, and she suggested I participate in the end-of-semester recital!” She beamed, shaking Viktor's arm in excitement.
“What?! That’s amazing!” Viktor exclaimed, mirroring her enthusiasm.
As the students made their way across the campus, their footprints left behind temporary trails in the freshly fallen snow, the sound of laughter and chatter echoed through the crisp winter air, mingling with the soft crunch of the snow underneath.
Shen sat at his desk, focused on finishing the plans he had due for the start of the new semester. He had just returned from a week with his parents and hadn’t brought any architecture books with him, wanting to enjoy uninterrupted time with his family.
The sound of the dorm’s front door opening barely registered, and Shen didn’t bother looking up to see who it was.
Shen and Viktor shared the dorm, while their best friend Ted stayed in the neighbouring room with another member of the male football team. Despite living next door, Ted always found reasons to visit, sometimes even crashing in their room.
Shen heard Viktor hang his coat and then make his way to the bed, where he collapsed with a dramatic groan.
“How was your date with Violet?” Shen asked, still immersed in his designs. Viktor groaned again, muffled by the pillow.
“It wasn’t a date,” Viktor mumbled, though part of him wished it had been. “We were just hanging out.”
Shen finally put his pencil down and swivelled in his chair to face him. Viktor turned his head just enough to make eye contact.
“Oh? So, you call that shameless flirting ‘just hanging out’ now?” Shen teased, pushing his glasses up his nose with a knowing smirk.
“Argh! Dude! I do not flirt shamelessly with Violet when we hang out!” Viktor protested, grabbing a pillow and launching it at Shen.
Shen chuckled, easily catching the pillow and tossing it back toward Viktor’s bed.
“Okay," Shen began, his tone still playful, “then why do you act like you’ve been married for, like, 35 years?” He twirled his pencil skillfully between his fingers, watching Viktor groan louder, covering his face with both hands to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.
“Who goes to a café to play chess during winter break? Aren’t there more exciting things to do on this island?”
Viktor rubbed his hands down his face, pulling at his features comically. “Shen, shut up already. You sound like my father.”
Shen let up, sensing the line had been reached. “Alright, alright. How was Christmas, then?”
Grateful for the change in subject, Viktor relaxed. Their conversation shifted to their winter breaks and how tough the upcoming semester would be. After a while, Shen returned to his assignments, and Viktor opened his laptop, checking for any looming deadlines.
Outside, snow began to fall softly again, coating the world in a fresh layer of white.
Colette fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. She’d picked the outfit carefully—casual enough not to panic him, cute enough not to let him forget what he was losing. Still, wearing a skirt in the middle of winter hadn’t been her brightest moment (beauty is sacrifice, after all), but that notion was about to be challenged.
She raised her coffee cup to her lips, but the warmth did little to settle the churn in her stomach. All through the holidays, she’d rehearsed this moment—muttering her speech in front of the mirror, editing it down, memorising it, forgetting it, starting over. She was the one who had texted him. She’d picked the place. She had no excuse to back out now.
It’s not even that big of a deal, she reminded herself. Just a conversation.
But the truth clung to her like static: this wasn’t just a conversation.
She and Ted had been friends with benefits since the welcome party at the start of the school year. They’d had casual sex here and there but never really did anything beyond sleeping together. No rules, no promises, just casual fun.
Until that night.
Ted thought she was asleep when he whispered it—I think I’m in love with you. The words hadn’t been meant for her conscious ears, but they’d pierced through like ice water.
That was the moment everything shifted. She had warned him—warned both of them—that this kind of arrangement was dangerous. People caught feelings. People got hurt. Still, it had always been Ted who kept reaching out. Again and again. And Colette, against her better judgment, hadn’t stopped him.
Her phone buzzed in her purse, the sound slicing through her thoughts.
She didn’t need to check the screen to know who it was.
With a sigh, she tossed her empty coffee cup into the bin beside the bench and pulled out her phone.
| Today, 13:07 |
Ted – Hi
Ted – I’m nearly there :)
Colette exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around her phone.
Showtime.
Nicky lowered the suitcase onto the dorm floor with a soft thump, then glanced back down the corridor. Paulina was still battling the trolley, her boots scuffing the floor as the wheels jammed yet again.
“Here,” Nicky said, already stepping forward. “Let me.”
Paulina waved a hand, puffing out a breath as she forced a smile. “No, no, I’ve got it. Really.”
“Uh-huh,” Nicky replied, unimpressed. She took the valise anyway and hoisted it onto her shoulder with ease, walking toward the dorm before Paulina could argue further.
Paulina groaned theatrically. “Thanks,” she muttered, half-laughing, as she followed Nicky into the room and promptly flopped onto the bed with a sigh of pure relief.
Nicky grinned. “Someone’s dramatic.”
Paulina stretched out like a cat, humming softly. “I’m sore in places I didn’t know existed. Air travel is cruel.”
Without asking, Nicky dropped onto the bed beside her, curling into her side. Paulina let out a long-suffering groan and wriggled to make space, but Nicky just tugged her arms around herself with a playful grin.
“Honestly, you’re lucky I love you,” Paulina teased, casting her a sideways look. “Anyone else would’ve been drop-kicked off this mattress.”
Nicky rolled her eyes, releasing her grip, though a warm flutter settled under her ribs. “So aggressive,” she muttered, shifting onto her back but staying close.
Paulina exhaled, settling next to her, and for a moment the room was quiet.
“How was it?” she asked. “Staying here over Christmas?”
Nicky clasped her hands on her stomach, keeping her tone light. “Quiet. Kind of boring. Very white. It snowed like every other day.”
Paulina sat up and wandered to her drawers. “Does it snow in Australia?”
“Depends where you are,” Nicky said, watching her. “Down in Tassie, sure. But Sydney? Not unless hell freezes over.”
Paulina chuckled softly, pulling out a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. She turned away as she began to change, but Nicky’s gaze caught for just a second—lingering a moment too long on the curve of her back before she blinked, looked away, and immediately busied herself with the luggage pile near the door.
Her cheeks burned. To cover it, she grabbed the smaller suitcase and hoisted it over her shoulders like a gym weight, dipping into a few dramatic squats.
Paulina’s laugh rang out, surprised and bright. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Cardio,” Nicky replied with a grin. “Or trying to figure out how many rocks you smuggled in here.”
She set the suitcase down after a few reps, and Paulina, eyebrows raised, attempted to mimic her. She managed five wobbly squats before collapsing against the suitcase, gasping.
“You need to come to the gym with me,” Nicky teased, bumping her shoulder.
Paulina shook her head, still breathless but grinning. The image of Nicky doing one-handed push-ups in her sports bra, hair tied back, looking like an ad for strength itself... yeah, no thanks.
“Help me unpack,” Paulina said, tossing her hair back with faux dignity, “and I’ll consider it.”
Nicky raised an eyebrow. “Bribery and resistance training? Bold.”
Paulina smirked, already unzipping her suitcase. “Welcome back to campus, Carberry.”
Ted collapsed onto the desk with a dramatic groan, his books scattered haphazardly, teetering on the edge of the desk.
Pamela barely looked up from her laptop, giving him a lazy pat on the shoulder with the back of her hand.
“You good, my man?” she asked, brow arched.
Ted answered with an elongated sigh that made him sound like a deflating balloon.
Pamela turned fully to face him, noticing his eyes were shut and even his usually neat hair seemed to be wilting. With a quiet sigh of her own, she reached out and flicked his forehead.
“Ow,” Ted whined, recoiling and clutching his head like he’d been hit with a frying pan. “Why?” he whined, forehead now pressed against the cool surface of the desk.
“Because it’s nine a.m, and you’re already whining.” Pam said. “So, what happened?”
Ted straightened, barely, and shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets. His face twisted like he was trying to push the words out through sheer willpower.
“Collete and I... we…”
Pam raised a brow. He sighed again.
“We kinda... broke up.”
Her expression softened. “You okay?”
Ted hesitated, then shrugged, lips pursed. “I mean... we weren’t technically dating. Like, no labels. Casual. But she said she doesn’t want to... you know. Continue.”
He fiddled with the drawstring of his hoodie, twisting it tight around his fingers.
“I think I caught feelings,” he added under his breath.
Pam let the silence hang for a beat.
“Well, shit,” she said finally.
Ted huffed a laugh, one corner of his mouth twitching up. “Yeah. That about sums it up,” he muttered, resting his chin back on the desk.
He fidgeted with the lid of a pen sticking out from his pencil case. “I don’t know. I guess I thought... I don’t know what I thought. Maybe we could’ve been something.”
“Did you talk about that? Like, out loud? With words?”
Ted made a gesture with his hands, something between a shrug and exasperation. “I mean... no. But it was implied.”
Pam snorted. “Ted, you can’t just vibe your way into a relationship. You’re not a mindreader”
He groaned again and thunked his forehead against the desk.
Pam looked at him, looked at her friend properly now; his face mashed into the desk, the very image of a melodramatic figure. With a fond sight, Pam leaned forward, to his level, folding her arms underneath her. “Look, I get it. It sucks. You liked her, she didn’t want more, it’s awkward now. Happens. Doesn’t mean you need to throw yourself a one-man funeral.”
Ted peeked up at her, sighing again, with more resignation this time. “Do I get to wallow at least a little?”
“Sure. You have…” Pam began, checking her watch. “You’ve got about five minutes left. After that, we’re going to class, and you’re buying me a muffin.”
Ted sat up a little, smirking in disbelief. “A muffin? That’s my heartbreak tax?”
“Absolutely. Chocolate chip, and I want extra napkins. I refuse to get crumbs on my laptop.”
Ted finally sat up properly, managing a small grin. “You’re a cold, cold woman, Jackson.”
Pam smirked. “And yet, you still come to me for emotional support.”
He shrugged. “You’ve got the best snacks.”
“Damn right I do.”