A man in the crowd, a guy in his thirties with a patchy beard and a faded jacket shuffled forward, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the boy's lifeless form, then at Charlotte cradling him.
He knew this wasn't the time. He knew it was wrong, tasteless, maybe even cruel to intrude on such a raw, tragic moment.
But the pull was too strong.
"Uh, hey." He stammered, his voice cracking as he edged closer. "I-I know this isn't great timing or anything, but...could I maybe get a photo with you? Just real quick?" He offered a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his neck.
In his head, he'd already rationalized it: at worst, she'd say no. Maybe she'd snap at him, tell him off, and even that would be something to brag about later.
"Got scolded by a goddess's daughter." He'd say to his buddies over beers, a smirk on his face. "How lucky am I?"
But the man didn't exactly get the reaction he'd bargained for.
Charlotte froze as she sobbed, her trembling shoulders stilling as his words hung in the air like a misplaced note in a dirge.
And then suddenly the atmosphere shifted, sharply, unnaturally.
A chill swept through the park, the kind that prickled the skin and made one's breath catch, as if the warmth had been sucked out of the world itself.
And then, slowly Charlotte lifted her head from the boy's chest, her movements measured, almost mechanical. Her long pink hair fell away from her face as she turned her gaze toward the man, and what he saw in her eyes stopped his heart cold.
She stared at him with a look so dead, so devoid of life, it was like peering into a void.
Those striking blue eyes, moments ago shimmering with grief, now bore into him with utter disdain, cold, unfeeling, as if he were less than a worm crawling from a grave, a speck of filth daring to sully her presence.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her fury silent but searing, radiating off her in waves that made the air feel heavy.
This wasn't just annoyance or anger; it was something deeper, darker, a rage so profound it seemed to consume her.
She was furious, not just at the interruption, but at the audacity, the insolence of this man intruding on a moment so sacred, so raw, that it belonged only to her and the boy she cradled.
To her, he'd crossed a line that shouldn't even have existed in his mind.
Seeing this terrifying gaze, the man stumbled back a step, then two, his sheepish grin dissolving into terror.
His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs felt rooted, pinned by the weight of her gaze. She didn't shout, didn't scream, didn't need to as her silence was louder than any outburst, her contempt a blade honed to cut deeper than words ever could.
And then, terrifyingly, she took it further.
Her head tilted slightly, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto his. And then, shockingly a faint shimmer rippled through them, the blue giving way to an unnatural, glowing pink that seemed to pulse with intent.
She then parted her plump lips, and in a voice so soft it barely carried, she whispered,
"Kill yourself."
The words weren't a suggestion, they were a command, laced with a mysterious power that sank into the man like venom.
His eyes widened, then glazed over, mirroring that same eerie pink hue.
And then to his own horror, his hand twitched, then rose, slowly, jerkily toward his own neck like he was following what he said. His fingers curled, tightening against his throat as his breath stopped, his face contorting in confusion and dread.
He was going to do it, strangle himself right there, compelled by a force he couldn't resist, all while she watched with that same frigid, unblinking stare.
But before the man's grip could fully close, a sharp voice sliced through the tension like a whipcrack.
"Charlotte...What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The moment that voice rang out, the spell shattered.
The man who'd been seconds from choking himself gasped and crumpled to the ground, his hands flying to his chest as he sucked in ragged breaths, his eyes wide with confusion and lingering terror.
The crowd, already on edge from the unfolding drama, erupted into a collective gasp, shock and horror rippling through them like a wave, as their heads snapped toward the source of the voice, and what they saw defied every expectation they'd held just moments before.
...It was the boy.
...The one they'd all assumed was dead.
He was the one who has spoke those words and he didn't to look like someone who had just escaped death and rather looked at Charlotte with a irritated look on his face, like he didn't like how she was taking this opportunity to hug him all over.
There was no way anyone could've survived a hit like that, they'd thought, atleast not someone like him, who was obviously a mortal seeing that he was wearing the uniform of the 'support' branch of the prestigious 'Solaria Beyond Academy'.
A truck slamming into him, sending him crashing into a tree with bone-shattering force?
Dead...Gone.
That's what they'd believed, what logic demanded.
But now, impossibly, he was alive, breathing, sitting up slightly, and staring at Charlotte with a dumbfounded expression that bordered on exasperation and the moment everyone snapped out of their daze whispers broke out like wildfire.
"He's alive?" A woman hissed, clutching her scarf as her eyes darted between the boy and the tree. "No way, did you see how hard he hit? He shouldn't even be moving!"
"It's impossible!" A teenage boy muttered, lowering his phone mid-photo. "I thought for sure he was a goner! Just look at the crater on the tree, anyone else would've been a corpse even if they were a blessed."
"Miracle..." An older man breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's what it is. A damn miracle."
But Charlotte's reaction was something else entirely.
The ice-cold fury that had twisted her face, the dead-eyed glare, the silent wrath that had nearly claimed a man's life...melted away in an instant.
Her expression flipped like a switch, replaced by a cheeky, almost mischievous grin that lit up her features and without a second's hesitation, she lunged forward, practically tackling the boy in a hug that sent them both sprawling back against the tree.
"Mika!" She cried, her voice dripping with exaggerated drama. "Oh my god, you actually survived! I wasn't expecting this can you believe it? You're alive!"
Her tone was sarcastic, theatrical, her arms wrapping around him like she was putting on a show. The way she clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder, made it clear she wasn't surprised at all, more like she'd been waiting for this exact moment to play out.
Her cheerfulness was over-the-top, almost mocking, and the crowd blinked in stunned silence, trying to reconcile the weeping goddess's daughter with this sudden burst of energy.
Mika, though, the boy she'd called by name, didn't match her enthusiasm.
He stared down at her with a deadpan look, his dark eyes narrowed as if he were dealing with an annoying sibling rather than a girl who'd just tried to hex a man into suicide.
"Charlotte..." He said, his voice flat and tired. "Why are you acting like you thought I was dead when you clearly knew I wouldn't die from a measly truck? Do you really think I'd be done in by a truck like some kind of cliché protagonist?" He shifted, trying to pry her off him, his hands pushing at her shoulders like she was a persistent mosquito buzzing too close. "Get off already."
But Charlotte wasn't having it. She tightened her grip, her cheek pressed against his chest as she tilted her head up to flash him that same cheeky grin.
"Oh, come on, Mika! Of course I knew you weren't dead from a pathetic little truck!" She chirped, her tone teasing. "You're way too stubborn for that...But I couldn't resist!"
"I wanted to do one of those dramatic movie scenes, you know, where the brave guy sacrifices himself for his lover, and she cries her heart out, and it's all tragic and romantic." She fluttered her lashes at him, clearly enjoying herself. "It was perfect, right?"
Mika sighed, a long, drawn-out sound of pure resignation. "First of all, we're not even lovers." He pointed out, his voice dry as dust. "So all that was completely pointless and you just made a fool of yourself for nothing."
But Charlotte didn't miss a beat. She pulled back just enough to stick her tongue out at him, her grin widening.
"Not lovers yet." She corrected, poking his chest with one finger. "But give it time, Mika. I'll win you over eventually, mark my words! You won't be able to resist me forever." Her eyes sparkled with mischief, undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm.
Mika let out another reluctant sigh, rubbing his temple with one hand as if warding off a headache. "Yeah, sure." He muttered, clearly unconvinced. "Keep dreaming."
But despite his grumbling, he didn't shove her away again, just leaned back against the tree, too tired or too used to her antics to argue further.