Chapter 6: Our Rules, Our Forever

I grinned, the words a promise. Mason laughed, pulling me into a hug.

My account was doing well, with steady income.

I checked my stats, smiling at the steady stream of likes and comments. I was finally making a name for myself.

But something still felt missing.

No amount of success could fill the hole in my heart. I glanced at Mason, wondering if he felt the same.

On Monday, my advisor called me to his office.

I knocked on the door, nerves jangling. Professor Miller waved me in, his smile warm.

He was almost retired, but still sharp as ever.

His office was cluttered with books, papers stacked in neat piles. I took a seat, waiting for him to speak.

"Harper, isn’t it time to start your research project?"

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for my answer. I nodded, determined to impress him.

"Yeah, yeah," I laughed. "I’ll get on it this week."

I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. Professor Miller just shook his head, smiling.

"Good. Work hard." He sipped his coffee, then changed the subject. "My daughter’s always on TikTok—guess who I saw the other day."

He winked, a mischievous glint in his eye. I laughed, playing along.

My heart skipped—I had a feeling.

I tried to act cool, but my palms were sweaty. I wondered if he’d seen my latest video.

"Haha, who? I’m curious."

I leaned forward, feigning interest. Professor Miller grinned, taking another sip of coffee.

"No more suspense—it was you. Your videos get a lot of likes. You’re a little internet celebrity."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for my reaction. I blushed, embarrassed but proud.

"Professor, do you think this is bad?"

I bit my lip, waiting for his judgment. To most adults, online fame was a joke—a distraction from real work.

To most adults, online fame is just showing off, not real work.

I braced myself for criticism, but Professor Miller just smiled.

That’s why I’d never dared tell my mom I was making money.

I kept my side hustle a secret, afraid she’d disapprove. But Professor Miller’s words surprised me.

"Bad? Not at all! Your videos are a delight."

He leaned back, smiling. I relaxed, relief flooding through me.

I didn’t expect that.

I grinned, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. Maybe I wasn’t wasting my time after all.

"I’ve watched every one—script, acting, editing—you’re clearly smart and creative."

He ticked off each skill on his fingers, making me laugh. I felt seen, understood.

"And it makes money—what’s wrong with that? You’re doing great."

He raised his coffee in a toast. I smiled, grateful for his support.

"Harper, I know you’re smart, ambitious, want to earn money—even picked this project for the prize money."

He winked, making me laugh. I nodded, admitting the truth.

"You’re great, but the internet makes people restless. It makes you crave things too quickly. What you need now is knowledge and perspective—those can’t be stolen. They’ll help you find balance and keep you from losing yourself."

His words were wise, grounding. I nodded, taking them to heart.

"With knowledge, perspective, and your smarts, you’ll be unstoppable."

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. I grinned, feeling inspired.

I understood right away—I needed to calm down and think long-term.

I took a deep breath, promising myself I’d slow down, focus on what mattered.

"That’s all. Get to work on your project."

He waved me out, smiling. I left his office, feeling lighter than I had in months.

Letting go of those restless things, I spent more time in the library.

I buried myself in books, research papers, anything that would help me grow. The quiet was soothing, a welcome change from the chaos of social media.

Busy with ideas, research, finding partners—but it was focused, not frantic.

I worked with purpose, setting goals and meeting deadlines. For the first time, I felt in control.

On the surface, it looked like I’d finally slowed down, but inside I was growing like crazy.

I could feel myself changing, becoming someone new. I smiled, excited for what the future held.

When I was tired, I’d read or nap at my desk.

I curled up in a corner of the library, headphones on, letting the music wash over me. Sometimes, I’d wake to find Mason watching me, a soft smile on his lips.

Mason suddenly had more free time. I’d often wake up to find him across from me, handing me a Starbucks or lemonade.

He’d slide the cup across the table, pretending not to care. I’d grin, sipping the drink, grateful for his thoughtfulness.

Sometimes, when I caught his gaze, I’d blush.

His eyes were warm, full of secrets. I looked away, my cheeks burning.

That look was familiar.

I’d seen it before, in the hallway, at home, in the car. It was the look that made my heart race, my knees weak.

During senior year, I studied through every break.

I spent hours in the library, pouring over textbooks and notes. Mason would stop by, checking on me, making sure I ate.

With my sixth sense, I’d suddenly pull back the curtain—sometimes no one was there, sometimes Mason’s eyes would meet mine, full of hidden warmth, only to turn fierce when he realized I’d noticed.

I’d laugh, teasing him about being a stalker. Mason would roll his eyes, but I could see the blush creeping up his neck.

I’d joke he was just there to monitor my studying, to hide my nerves.

He’d pretend to be annoyed, but I knew he cared. It was his way of showing love.

That summer wind has been blowing ever since. Sometimes I still catch a hint of it—warm, a little wild, full of possibility.

Everything’s changed, yet nothing has.

The world kept turning, but Mason was still my anchor, my constant.

Those quiet days were bliss.

I cherished them, storing them away for rainy days. They were my safe haven, my home.

One day, I overheard Mason and my advisor talking.

I paused outside the office, listening. Their voices were low, conspiratorial.

"This is your fault—you made me give that speech, now Harper’s always bugging me. I wanted to go out and have fun!"

Mason’s voice was playful, but I could hear the affection beneath it. I smiled, heart swelling.

"Thanks, Professor. She really needed to calm down."

My advisor chuckled, his tone warm. I grinned, feeling grateful for their support.

"Yeah right—she’s working herself to death on that project, dragging me along."

Mason laughed, the sound warm and familiar. I smiled, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.

…

I stood outside the office, unable to calm down.

My heart raced, excitement and nerves mixing in my chest. I took a deep breath, steadying myself.

Mason—this was all your guidance, wasn’t it?

I smiled, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. I was lucky to have him.

Who else could I love but you?

The answer was simple—no one. Mason was my everything.

As the project wrapped up, the busiest days were over.

I submitted my final report, breathing a sigh of relief. The hard part was over—now, all that was left was to wait.

Everyone waited for results.

The anticipation was electric, everyone on edge. I checked my email obsessively, hoping for good news.

We won first prize at the national level. I screamed, did a little victory dance, and texted Mason a string of exclamation points. It felt unreal.

When it ended, I realized true happiness felt just like this.

The weight of expectation, of fear and doubt, melted away. I was free, finally.

All my worries seemed to unravel—I could finally let go of so much.

I forgave myself, my mom, even Mason. The past no longer held me captive.

I didn’t care who was better, because I was good too.

I smiled, proud of how far I’d come. I was enough—just as I was.

I forgave my mom for not being there, because Mason was.

I let go of the hurt, the anger. I focused on the love I had, not the love I’d lost.

I wasn’t afraid of the future, because the hardest part was behind me.

I faced each day with courage, knowing I could handle whatever came next.

After a late-night celebration, Mason took me home.

We walked hand in hand, laughter echoing down the empty streets. The world felt full of possibility, of hope.

I grinned at him. "Hug!"

He laughed, pulling me into his arms. I melted into his embrace, feeling safe and loved.

Mason pulled me into his arms and gave me honey-lemon water.

He held the cup to my lips, his eyes soft. I drank, smiling up at him.

"I’m not drunk. I don’t want it."

I pouted, but Mason just grinned, insisting I finish the drink.

"Drink up."

His voice was gentle, reassuring. I obeyed, trusting him completely.

I gulped it down, then tossed the cup on the couch and stared at Mason.

The silence stretched, heavy with anticipation. I met his gaze, my heart pounding.

After a long silence, I said, "Mason, wanna kiss?"

I grinned, daring him to say no. Mason’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening on my arm.

"I’ve been wanting you for so long."

His words were a confession, a promise. I smiled, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

His grip on my arm tightened, his eyes burning.

He pulled me closer, his lips brushing mine. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. The world stopped.

Before he could answer, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

The kiss was soft at first, then fierce. I poured all my love, my longing, into that moment.

The taste of alcohol and honey-lemon lingered between us.

I smiled against his lips, feeling whole for the first time in years.

Mason kissed me back, hot and fierce.

His hands tangled in my hair, his body pressed against mine. I melted into him, letting go of everything but the present.

A trinket on the coffee table toppled, clinking as it fell.

We broke apart, laughing. Mason scooped me up, carrying me to the bedroom.

"Babe, the adults aren’t home."

I grinned, nuzzling into his neck. Mason just laughed, his eyes shining with love.

Mason paused, then scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom.

He set me down gently, brushing a strand of hair from my face. I smiled, feeling safe and loved.

"Harper, I’ve finally waited for you. Now that you’ve made your choice, let’s plan our future together. From now on, we do this together."

His words were a promise, a vow. I nodded, tears streaming down my face.

That night, I lay in his arms, breathless and alive. No more poetry—just us, tangled up in sheets, hearts pounding, everything real and raw.

Sometime after midnight, we finally gave in.

Love, fragile and fierce, blossomed between us. I smiled, knowing I was exactly where I was meant to be.

In the morning, I woke in Mason’s arms—he held me tight.

His embrace was warm, comforting. I snuggled closer, soaking up his love.

I’d craved this embrace for so long.

I smiled, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. I was finally home.

I couldn’t help but snuggle closer, soaking up his warmth.

I pressed my face to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. For the first time, I felt truly safe.

When Uncle Mark and my mom came home, Mason held my hand and told them everything.

We sat on the couch, hands intertwined. Mason spoke calmly, his voice steady. I squeezed his hand, grateful for his courage.

My mom went pale, lips trembling. "You’re siblings!"

She stared at us, disbelief etched on her face. I met her gaze, refusing to back down.

"But we’re not blood related."

I spoke softly, but firmly. The truth was simple, undeniable.

"Harper, Mason’s just fooling around—how could you join in? You’re always so obedient."

Her voice was sharp, accusing. I shook my head, refusing to let her guilt me.

Uncle Mark provided for me but rarely intervened.

He sat silently, watching us. I wondered what he was thinking.

I took a breath. "Mom, Uncle Mark, I’m sorry for ‘ruining’ Mason, but I worked hard—I earn my own money, I’m top of my class, our project just won an award. I’ve done everything I can. If you still blame me, I can move out and support myself, and I’ll take care of you in the future."

I stood my ground, no regrets. I looked them both in the eye, ready for whatever came next.

"Same here—I’m sorry for ‘ruining’ my sister, but I’ve liked her for years. I wanted to wait for her to finish what she wanted, then face things together. I’ve protected Harper all this time—I’m not handing her over to anyone. She makes money, so do I. She’s a top student, so am I. Us getting married is a perfect match."

Mason doubled down—my face flushed, but I couldn’t help wanting to laugh.

He grinned, squeezing my hand. I smiled, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.

"We’re not asking for your approval—just letting you know."

His words were firm, final. I nodded, grateful for his support.

"You’re forcing our hand. Real nice."

My mom and Uncle Mark couldn’t accept it, so we just moved out and stopped taking their money.

We found a small apartment, cozy and bright. It wasn’t much, but it was ours. The place smelled like new paint and cheap soap, but it felt like home the second we walked in.

To avoid accusations of being ungrateful, we made sure to visit regularly—more often than when we lived at school.

We brought groceries, cooked dinner, helped around the house. Slowly, the tension eased.

"Damn, what are we supposed to do now? No leverage left—how do we break them up?"

Uncle Mark muttered under his breath, but I just laughed. For once, the world was on our side.

First time I’d heard Uncle Mark curse—I wasn’t used to it.

I grinned, nudging Mason. He just shrugged, unbothered.

But so what? It was done.

We’d fought for our happiness, and we’d won. Nothing could take that away from us.

When the semester ended, Mason and I went to the beach.

The sun was warm, the sand soft beneath our feet. We walked hand in hand, laughter echoing in the salty air.

Blue sea and sand stretched forever. White waves soaked my dress and sandals. I kicked the surf, birds wheeling overhead, the sky so blue it hurt my eyes. I laughed out loud, feeling free for the first time ever.

It was a simple life, full of endless romance.

We built sandcastles, chased seagulls, watched the sunset. Every moment was a gift, a promise of forever.

My phone kept pinging: "Have fun, lovebirds."

It was my mom and Uncle Mark.

I smiled, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. Maybe, just maybe, they were starting to accept us.

Mason, my beloved boy, I finally got my wish.

I squeezed his hand, whispering a silent thank you to the universe. I was home, at last.