By the time Aliyah got home, the word maybe had ruined the structural integrity of her evening.
It had followed her all the way from campus.
Through the walk back.
Through the front door.
Up the stairs.
Into her room.
Aliyah shut her bedroom door behind her and leaned against it for a second, exhaling slowly.
Her room was warm with the late gold of sunset, the curtains half-open, the last light spilling over the vanity, the wardrobe, the neatly made bed. Her uniform suddenly felt unbearable.
She crossed the room and pulled it off piece by piece, dropping jacket, shirt, and skirt over the chair with more force than necessary.
Then came the real problem.
What did one wear to a maybe-date?
Not that Aliyah was calling it that. Absolutely not. She was merely going out to eat somewhere fancy with a dangerously attractive dragon woman.
That could mean anything.
It could mean nothing.
It could also mean everything, and that possibility alone was enough to make Aliyah's stomach tighten.
She opened the wardrobe doors and stared.
Too formal.
Too casual.
Too soft.
Too obvious.
Too much like she was trying.
Too much like she was not trying enough.
She pulled out three dresses, rejected all three, considered a fourth, rejected that one on principle, then dragged a skirt from the far end and held it up against herself in the mirror.
No.
Absolutely not.
"Fuck," she muttered.
If Kaelith saw her right now, she would never shut up again. If Neris saw her, he would probably say something devastatingly dry and then remember it forever.
Both outcomes were unacceptable. So when she finally settled on an outfit and started getting ready properly, she did it with the stealth of a criminal.
She chose black.
A fitted skirt that showed off her legs without looking desperate. A dark sleeveless top with a neckline just low enough to feel deliberate.
A light tailored outer layer in deep wine-red because plain black alone felt too safe, and Aliyah was done being safe for one evening.
Her hair took longer.
It always did when she cared.
She left it down in long dark waves over her shoulders and back, smoothing a little shine oil through the ends until it caught the light beautifully.
Then came jewelry, subtle but not boring. Gold at her throat. Small dark stones at her ears. Rings, but not too many.
When she stepped back from the mirror at last, even she had to pause.
She looked hot.
Not cute. Not pretty in the soft friendly way women kept using right before they carved out her romantic organs and left her with companionship.
Hot.
Her brown skin glowed warm against the dark colors. Her red eyes looked sharper tonight, her long black hair richer, her small black horns more striking framed by loose waves.
The outfit hugged her body in exactly the right places. Feminine, yes. But not harmless. Not tonight.
For one glorious second, confidence bloomed.
Then stress punched straight through it.
"What if it isn't a date," she whispered to herself but silence was the only answer.
Aliyah pressed her lips together and reached for a darker shade of gloss. If it was not a date, then fine.
Scarlett would simply have to suffer the consequences of taking a gorgeous woman to a fancy place while saying maybe in that voice.
That would be her burden to bear.
Downstairs, she could hear movement. A cabinet opening. Then Kaelith's laugh, low and lazy, followed by Neris saying something in the tone he reserved for people disappointing him through mere existence.
Aliyah froze.
Absolutely not.
She grabbed her bag and slipped out of her room as quietly as possible, heels in hand, moving down the hallway like she was evading trained assassins.
Which, in fairness, might have been easier than avoiding her siblings' questions.
The stairs creaked under the third step from the bottom, because the house clearly had no loyalty.
There was a pause from the sitting room.
Aliyah did not breathe.
Then Kaelith said, "Did you hear something?"
Neris answered, "Probably the house reacting to your sins."
Aliyah nearly smiled from sheer relief and took the remaining steps faster, sliding into her shoes by the door before either of them could come investigate.
She slipped out into the evening and pulled the front gate shut behind her with exquisite care.
The air outside felt cool and clean against the heat in her skin.
She checked the time.
She was early.
Of course she was early.
Better that than arriving late and looking flustered, though she already felt flustered enough to qualify as a weather pattern.
The restaurant Scarlett had chosen sat near the upper market district, where the city around the university softened into polished stone streets, elegant storefronts, enchanted lanterns, and terraces full of expensive wine and dangerous conversation.
Aliyah walked there slowly enough to give herself time to calm down.
It did not work.
By the time she reached the place, her pulse was still too quick.
The restaurant was beautiful in a quiet, serious way. Dark glass windows. Gold-lit interior. Tall carved doors.
Aliyah paused just outside to gather herself.
Then she saw Scarlett.
And every thought in her head scattered like birds.
Scarlett was leaning against the low stone wall near the entrance, one shoulder resting back as if she had been there only seconds, though Aliyah suspected she had arrived early too. She was dressed simply, which somehow made it worse.
A dark fitted shirt with the sleeves rolled just below the elbows, black trousers that made her legs look even longer, boots polished enough to catch the warm light, a narrow belt, rings at one hand, and a chain at her throat that disappeared beneath the shirt collar.
It should not have been devastating.
But it was.
Her mismatched eyes lifted the moment Aliyah stopped.
And then Scarlett smiled.
For a second Scarlett just looked at her, and Aliyah felt the weight of that gaze slide over her like a hand.
"Well," Scarlett said softly, pushing away from the wall. "You look…"
She stopped there, as if deciding whether honesty or restraint would hurt more.
Aliyah hated that her voice came out steadier than she felt. "That dramatic, huh?"
Scarlett walked closer.
Close enough for Aliyah to catch the now-familiar scent of smoke, cedar, and something warm beneath it.
"No," Scarlett said, eyes moving over her in no hurry at all. "That distracting."
Aliyah swallowed.
Scarlett's gaze rose to her face again, and this time there was no hiding the approval in it. None.
It lived openly in her expression, in the slight drop of her eyes to Aliyah's mouth, in the way she seemed to forget the restaurant door existed for a second.
Aliyah, who had spent too much of her life being looked at but not chosen, felt something deep and startled unfurl in her chest.
"You clean up well," she said, because silence had become too dangerous.
Scarlett huffed a quiet laugh. "So do you."
Aliyah glanced toward the restaurant entrance, then back at her. "You actually picked somewhere expensive."
"You sound suspicious."
"I am suspicious."
Scarlett smiled again and held the door open for her. "Come on, princess."
They went inside.
The meal was excellent. Aliyah knew that intellectually because she ate it, answered questions, asked some of her own, and even laughed more than once. But the food had no chance of becoming the center of the evening.
Not with the way Scarlett kept touching her fingers to the stem of her drink while looking at Aliyah like she preferred this to anything else happening in the room.
They talked.
About family, and the ridiculous etiquette Scarlett had grown up memorizing only to hate. About Aliyah's mothers, and how one was stricter while the other could be terrifying in a quieter way.
Scarlett was twenty-six, Aliyah already knew it because Scarlett looked older. Older, more settled in some ways, sharper in others.
Aliyah liked that.
Maybe more than liked it.
When they finally left the restaurant, the night had deepened into velvet-dark blue, the streets glowing with lantern-light and reflected gold from polished windows.
The air was cooler now. Softer. The kind of night that made everything feel like the beginning of something foolish.
They stood just outside for a moment, close enough that Aliyah could feel the warmth of Scarlett's body beside her.
Scarlett glanced down the lantern-lit street, then back at Aliyah.
"Hum," she said, voice low and easy, "let's walk for a bit."