Two Years Later
Sid's pov-
I used to think the world owed me something.
Attention. Fear. Reverence.
Now I know better.
It never owed me a damn thing.
I just took it anyway.
The city skyline sparkled below, blurred by champagne and laughter. I stood at the edge of the gallery balcony, heels sunk into century-old stone, dress the color of midnight sin.
And beside me—Theo.
No longer my professor.
No longer a scandal.
Just… mine.
He looked unfairly good in a tux. Still wore guilt in the crease of his brow sometimes, but it was softer now. Like he'd finally forgiven himself for loving me.
His hand brushed against mine.
Two years ago, that would've sent headlines spinning.
Now?
Let them look.
"You still mentally grade people when they talk?" I asked, sipping my drink.
Theo smirked. "Only when they misuse metaphors."
God, I loved him.
Not in a high school-crush, fantasy-novel kind of way.
I loved him in the I-will-tear-down-systems-to-keep-you kind of way.
We didn't fall in love.
We collided.
And we survived.
He turned toward me, his voice quieter than the music inside.
"Do you ever regret it?"
I knew what he meant.
The scandal.
The war.
The price.
I looked up at him, then past him—at the skyline that once felt too big to own.
"I regret not kissing you that first day in detention."
He laughed. The real kind. The one only I ever got from him.
And then, like it was the most casual thing in the world, he said—
"Marry me."
I blinked. "Right now?"
He nodded.
No ring.
No kneeling.
Just him.
Asking.
The way he always did: quietly, intensely, like I was gravity and he couldn't help himself.
And I smiled.
"Finally."