Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Chapter 79: Red (2)

Red 2

After a week of nonstop rain, the sky finally gave up, letting the bright, full moon shine over the balcony. A few stars even managed to push through the city’s lights.

Natalia gripped the balcony railing with both hands. She took a deep breath, then looked down, watching the streets lit with streaks of red and gold. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She wouldn’t say she was afraid of heights. Not exactly. But standing up here, so far from everything, made her feel a little anxious, like the icy wind might just tip her over. The cold helped, though. Better than the sweaty, sick feeling that clung to her ever since the drea—

The nightmares that hadn’t stopped.

She huffed and opened her eyes again, gathering the courage to look down. It wasn’t something she was used to.

She remembered balconies from when she was small, back when she still lived in the city. But then they moved to the suburbs, which were supposed to be quiet and leafy. What they got instead were possums screaming on the roof at three in the morning. So much for peace and better schools.

She touched her face. Still puffy. No surprise there. Half the night had gone to crying into Eydis’s shoulder, and the morning to avoiding them both.

Eydis, with those too-gentle eyes, and Astra, because… well. Because.

And now, Natalia was here.

Melissa’s place.

The doctor had left early for work, so Natalia hadn’t seen her. Just the apartment. Fancy and spotless. Marble counters, marble floors, marble everything. Like a catalog page, but colder.

Perfect. Cold. Untouchable.

Just like Melissa.

She flinched at the thought, a little ashamed. That wasn’t fair. Melissa wasn’t cold, not back when they were younger. She had been Lionel’s scary-smart best friend, the one who always had a book in her hands and would sit on the grass while he ran laps, shouting, “Watch this!”

That had been ten years ago.

Ten years since Melissa had walked out of their lives, chasing something bigger, something important. And Natalia—

Natalia had stayed exactly the same.

No ambitions. No grand plans. Just… existing. She was almost normal, or she might have been—if not for the “Gifted” label.

Still, her magic was barely more than a spark, never enough to matter. Astra, on the other hand, burned brilliantly. Her name quite literally meaning “star,” and of course she lived up to it in every way.

And really, why would Eydis ever choose a spark when she could have a star?

God. She’d been so dumb. Really, really dumb.

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back. No way she was crying again. Seriously, how much more pathetic could she get?

Maybe that’s why Melissa stopped trying; the eyes that used to see her like a little sister now barely paused on her, like she wasn’t there at all.

But Melissa still saved her. Just like she saved Lionel.

And Lionel… When Natalia got older, she started to notice it. The way his voice shifted when Melissa came up. How his eyes darkened, like something hurt every time. Like he regretted something.

She never asked what.

He’d never dated anyone, not as far as she knew. Like he was waiting. Or hoping. Maybe they were more alike than she thought. Brother. Sisters. All hopeless.

All in love with someone completely out of reach.

Because Melissa wasn’t just smart, she was everything. Natalia wished she could be like that.

If she were, maybe Eydis would—

No. Don’t finish that sentence, idiot.

Then, the sliding door opened behind her. Warm air flooded out, bringing the scent of mint and sea salt. She turned, and—

And it felt like stepping straight into a memory.

There she was. Melissa leaned against the balcony door in a bathrobe and a rumpled T-shirt, looking far too human for someone who routinely broke the internet.

“Heater or winter breeze. And of course, you pick winter breeze,” Melissa muttered. “Masochist archetype.”

Natalia blinked. And just like that, the space between them didn’t feel so big anymore. As if those ten years hadn’t really happened. As if Melissa had never left.

But still, she didn’t move. Because if she did, if she let herself believe this was real, very real…

She wasn’t sure she could handle it vanishing again.

Melissa watched her. “Scientifically speaking… You look like someone about to have an epiphany. Or a meltdown. Honestly, I’m betting on meltdown.”

Natalia blinked again. “That’s not real science.”

“Sure it is. Anecdotal evidence counts.”

Before Natalia could think of a comeback, something cold pressed against her cheek.

“Mel, what the hell?”

“Reflex test, Red. You passed.” Melissa held out a bottle. “Here.”

The name tugged at something soft inside Natalia. The drink, less so. “…Watermelon alcopop? I don’t turn eighteen until August.”

“It’s practically a vitamin smoothie,” Melissa said, smirking. “Besides, I can afford the fine.”

Natalia took the bottle. “Is this actually supposed to help?”

“From dehydration? No. From your absolutely disastrous taste in wom—people? Also no. But chemically, it suppresses the central nervous system.” Melissa took a sip of her own drink. “So, at the very least, it should make you slightly less likely to torch my building.”

Natalia’s face burned. “I wasn’t going to—wait. Your building?”

“Tax stuff. Loopholes. Parental bribes. Don’t ask.”

Natalia snorted.

Melissa grinned and studied her. “Progress. You’ve downgraded from ‘raging inferno’ to ‘sad campfire in light drizzle.’”

"Is this your version of therapy? Because it's terrible. And I do not look like a—”

Melissa gave her the look.

“…Maybe a little,” Natalia muttered.

“Hey, look at that! Stage five of the Kübler-Ross model. I’m proud of you.”

"The what now?"

“Stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. You skipped the middle three.” Melissa said, raising her bottle.

Natalia blinked slowly, then chuckled. “You’re still…”

“Insufferable?” Melissa tried.

“Well…”

Melissa gave a mock gasp. “You’re supposed to argue with me, you know.”

Natalia smiled despite herself. And weirdly, it helped. She took a sip. The burn hit fast but faded just as quickly. “It’s like drinking mildly aggressive fruit juice.”

Melissa eyed her. “Your metabolism is ridiculous. Fire Gifted and immune to literally everything. Like, God-tier immunity.”

Natalia’s pulse kicked up for no reason. Then she laughed: light, surprised, relieved.

Melissa looked thoroughly confused but watched her anyway, smiling softly.

“You haven’t changed,” Natalia said quietly.

“Haven’t I?”

Natalia shook her head. “Still trying to look cool with alcohol, but you picked the one that tastes like melted marshmallows.”

Melissa gasped again, offended (but not really). “I thought you liked marshmallows.”

“About that…” Natalia muttered, then said nothing more.

Melissa narrowed her eyes but didn’t press. Instead, she pulled out an empty cup and let her magic swirl inside. Water filled it halfway, shimmering with a soft blue glow.

“Here. For science.”

“Is this your idea of homemade experimental juice?”

Melissa smirked. “No. Well—yes. But it’s safe.”

“That makes it worse.”

“I’m curious to see how your metabolism handles my… juic—uh, water.” Melissa cleared her throat, suddenly looking away.

Natalia blinked. Then, without thinking, because thinking never ended well for her, she took the drink anyway.

The moment the liquid touched her tongue, warmth spread through her, but it wasn’t just that; it was something deeper and vaster, like diving beneath the sea and forgetting where the sky ended and the water began.

Stay with me, Red.

Her heart skipped a beat because this time, she recognised the voice. And it was neither a dream nor a memory. It was real. She remembered how it felt to hear it. To fight it. To shove it away, again and again.

Only to find it still there, waiting. Like the tide.

Like…

Natalia’s fingers clenched around the cup. “It was your voice.”

Melissa stilled, momentarily. Then, she let out an amused breath. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Liar.

But Natalia stepped forward and hugged her anyway. Tight.

She didn’t care about boundaries. Only that Melissa hugged her back. Only that her own hand stayed clenched around the cup, like spilling it would mean losing something important.

The tears came. But she didn’t hide them.

Not this time.

They sat together as the hours ticked by, the sky gradually brightening with the first light of dawn peeking over the horizon.

"Will it ever stop hurting?" Natalia whispered.

Melissa tilted her head back and sighed. “God, I hope so,” she muttered. Then, like that hadn’t been dramatic enough, she took another sip of her drink.

Natalia let out a weak laugh. “Wow. Super reassuring.”

“What, you want the scientific version instead?”

“Hit me,” Natalia said.

Melissa’s blue eyes caught the early light. “Your brain kind of falls apart, chemically speaking. Dopamine tanks, stress hormones go wild…”

Natalia groaned. “Why are you like this?”

“You asked,” Melissa murmured. “But the brain figures it out. Eventually.”

“So it gets better?”

“The pain fades, yeah,” Melissa trailed off, as if debating whether to continue. But like always, she didn’t shy away from the truth. “But some parts stay with you. Your brain holds on to what matte—”

She stopped, her eyes catching on Natalia’s face, noticing the tears clinging to her lashes. She shifted closer and draped an arm around Natalia’s shoulders.

Natalia leaned into her without thinking. Her head found Melissa’s shoulder like it had done so many times before, when they were younger.

“So how do I get over someone,” she murmured, “when I can’t make myself forget?”

Melissa’s fingers moved slowly through her hair. “Step one,” she said, “fix your taste in women.”

“Joke’s on you. I didn’t even have a taste,” Natalia retorted. “One minute I’m reading enemies-to-lovers with soft himbos, and the next I’m—god, what even is this?”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “You’re in your gay awakening arc.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, you could’ve chosen a himbo,” Melissa went on, grinning. “Instead, you went for someone who glides, probably communes with crows, and maybe doesn’t show up in mirrors.”

Natalia shot her a glare. “You’re really not helping.”

“I’m an MD, not a therapist.”

“What’s the difference?”

“One puts you back together. The other just watches you fall apart. Either way,” Melissa paused, smirking. “You’re getting billed.”

Natalia let out a soft, watery chuckle, swiping at her damp eyes with her sleeve. The tension in her chest loosened, just a little.

And then, before she could lose her nerve, she asked, “…Will you stay?”

She wasn’t even sure what she meant. Here? In Achymia? In her life?

Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it.

She remembered the last time she asked that question, back when Melissa had just returned from the UK, during pizza night at Lionel’s, when it almost felt like nothing had changed.

But back then, Melissa had paused too long. Had given a non-answer.

And now… now, with her head resting against Melissa’s shoulder, she found the courage again.

Melissa didn’t answer at first. Her fingers kept moving through Natalia’s hair. Then, finally, she turned and looked Natalia in the eyes, her gaze warm and sincere this time.

“I never really left, Red.”

Natalia let herself breathe, but she didn’t reply right away.

Melissa added with a mischievous smile, “Start with ‘Natalia,’ then I’ll be on my way.”

Natalia gave a soft laugh. “How about fireworks as a signal then?”

She raised a hand, snapped her fingers, and a tiny flame flared to life.

Melissa looked unimpressed. “You could’ve saved me from hypothermia, but sure, let’s set my building on fire instead.”

Natalia grinned, eyes still watery. “Can you just say ‘cold’ like a normal person?”

Melissa’s voice was gentle. “Would that make you smile?”

Natalia’s only reply was the way she leaned closer, not worrying about personal space because she figured Melissa wouldn’t mind. Through the tears, through the ache, the longing, the heartbreak. The rejection she never even got the chance to face.

But right now, she wasn’t alone.

Even when the dawn turned to day and this moment became another memory to hold onto when everything else faded. She knew she’d remember it. The warmth of Melissa’s shoulder. The scent of mint and sea salt. The taste of watermelon and alcohol. The feeling of being safe.

Calm. Cooling. Soothing.

Like water.