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Fragments of Time (Chapter 2.1)
Scene 1: A Crack in the Armor
Melody entered the school the next day, still rattled by the strange vision from the night before. The woman in the mirror haunted her thoughts, keeping her from getting much sleep. Her steps were slower, more deliberate, and the weight of the day pressed on her shoulders. She could still feel the odd sensation that something had shifted, like the air itself was thicker around her.
In class, her focus was scattered, her eyes occasionally drifting toward Renly and his friends at the back of the room. His dark hair fell over his forehead, and he leaned back in his chair, casually laughing with his group. Despite her best efforts to ignore him, she could feel his gaze brush past her a few times, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.
When a note was slipped onto her desk, she hesitated, her breath catching. She unfolded the crumpled paper slowly.
Meet me in the old library after class.
No name. But there was no mistaking who it was from.
The rest of the class dragged, her mind occupied by the growing tension. When the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, she packed her things with an unsteady hand. Her curiosity was winning over her better judgment.
The old library was nestled in the far corner of the school, its forgotten shelves a relic of times past. The dim lighting gave it an eerie, abandoned feel, perfect for secrets. Melody pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside, her heart pounding in her chest. Dust swirled in the air, the scent of aged paper filling her senses.
Renly stood by one of the tall windows, backlit by the sunlight filtering in. He seemed different here, his posture tense, his gaze unfocused as he stared out at the fields beyond the school. Gone was the confident, carefree Renly from the classroom. Something about him felt… isolated.
“Surprised you came,” Renly’s voice broke the silence, his gaze shifting toward her. His usual smirk was absent, replaced with something more serious.
Melody crossed her arms over her chest, her defenses already up. “What do you want, Renly?”
He stepped away from the window, moving toward her with slow, deliberate steps. “You’re different.”
Her heart raced. “Is that what you brought me here for? To tell me I’m ‘different’?” She tried to keep her voice steady, but it trembled slightly under the weight of everything—his presence, the memories of the pranks, and the vision of the woman in the mirror. “You and your friends have made it clear that I don’t belong here. Is this just another joke?”
Renly’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening. He stopped in front of her, his eyes locking onto hers with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before. “It’s not a joke, Melody.”
She raised her chin, refusing to back down. “Then what is it?”
Renly hesitated for a moment before taking a step closer. “I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand,” he said, his voice quieter. “I just... I get bored. I mess around with people. But with you, it’s not like that.”
Melody’s breath caught in her throat, and for the first time, she noticed the vulnerability behind his words. The arrogance was gone, replaced with something raw, unguarded.
Before she could respond, his hand brushed lightly against hers.
The world around her shifted.
Suddenly, she wasn’t in the library anymore.
She was standing by a lake, her reflection shimmering in the water. But it wasn’t Melody looking back at her—it was the woman from the mirror.
She wore an elegant, flowing white wedding gown, lace trailing behind her on the soft grass. The sun was setting over the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the lake. The breeze carried the soft scent of wildflowers, and laughter echoed faintly in the distance.
Beside her stood a man, but it wasn’t Renly.
It was him, the man who looked so much like Renly, but with a few differences. His hair was longer, tied back in a low ponytail that reached his shoulders. And there was an attractive scar cutting through his left eyebrow. His name came to her as though it had always been there—Yenson.
A voice drifted through the air behind her, soft but distinct, like an echo from the past. “Madeleine, this is Yenson, a friend of your groom’s cousin.”
Madeleine. The name lingered in Melody’s mind, sending a chill down her spine.
She blinked, her heart racing, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions that weren’t her own. She could feel Madeleine’s heart pounding, feel the rush of attraction as Yenson’s gaze lingered on her. He smiled, his eyes holding that same playful gleam she had seen in Renly’s, but there was more—something deeper, something forbidden.
Madeleine’s thoughts—her thoughts—whispered through Melody’s mind. He’s not my groom. But he’s everything I wish for.
In the vision, her breath caught as Yenson’s hand brushed hers, a spark of electricity passing between them. Her pulse quickened as she glanced toward the man she was supposed to marry—a distant, cold figure standing with his friends, laughing, completely unaware of her. The contrast was stark. She felt trapped.
Yenson was the temptation, the escape, the freedom Madeleine craved but could never have.
For a fleeting moment, her hand lifted toward Yenson’s, her fingers brushing his.
And then—
Melody blinked again.
She was back in the library, her breath uneven, her pulse racing. Renly’s hand had brushed hers, the tingling sensation still fresh in her fingertips. She stared at him, wide-eyed, her mind reeling.
“What... what was that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Renly frowned, confusion clear in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
She shook her head, taking a step back, her heart thudding in her chest. The vision of Madeleine’s wedding, Yenson’s eyes, and the voice that called her Madeleine—it was too real, too vivid.
“I... I need to go,” she stammered, backing away.
“Melody,” Renly called after her, his voice softer, concerned. “What’s going on?”
But she didn’t stop. She turned and fled the library, her mind spinning with questions. One name kept echoing in her thoughts, louder with every step she took:
Madeleine.
---
© reddragonfly
#MelodyxRenly #timetravel #rebirth #romance #lovehate #collegelife
Melody entered the school the next day, still rattled by the strange vision from the night before. The woman in the mirror haunted her thoughts, keeping her from getting much sleep. Her steps were slower, more deliberate, and the weight of the day pressed on her shoulders. She could still feel the odd sensation that something had shifted, like the air itself was thicker around her.
In class, her focus was scattered, her eyes occasionally drifting toward Renly and his friends at the back of the room. His dark hair fell over his forehead, and he leaned back in his chair, casually laughing with his group. Despite her best efforts to ignore him, she could feel his gaze brush past her a few times, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.
When a note was slipped onto her desk, she hesitated, her breath catching. She unfolded the crumpled paper slowly.
Meet me in the old library after class.
No name. But there was no mistaking who it was from.
The rest of the class dragged, her mind occupied by the growing tension. When the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, she packed her things with an unsteady hand. Her curiosity was winning over her better judgment.
The old library was nestled in the far corner of the school, its forgotten shelves a relic of times past. The dim lighting gave it an eerie, abandoned feel, perfect for secrets. Melody pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside, her heart pounding in her chest. Dust swirled in the air, the scent of aged paper filling her senses.
Renly stood by one of the tall windows, backlit by the sunlight filtering in. He seemed different here, his posture tense, his gaze unfocused as he stared out at the fields beyond the school. Gone was the confident, carefree Renly from the classroom. Something about him felt… isolated.
“Surprised you came,” Renly’s voice broke the silence, his gaze shifting toward her. His usual smirk was absent, replaced with something more serious.
Melody crossed her arms over her chest, her defenses already up. “What do you want, Renly?”
He stepped away from the window, moving toward her with slow, deliberate steps. “You’re different.”
Her heart raced. “Is that what you brought me here for? To tell me I’m ‘different’?” She tried to keep her voice steady, but it trembled slightly under the weight of everything—his presence, the memories of the pranks, and the vision of the woman in the mirror. “You and your friends have made it clear that I don’t belong here. Is this just another joke?”
Renly’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening. He stopped in front of her, his eyes locking onto hers with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before. “It’s not a joke, Melody.”
She raised her chin, refusing to back down. “Then what is it?”
Renly hesitated for a moment before taking a step closer. “I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand,” he said, his voice quieter. “I just... I get bored. I mess around with people. But with you, it’s not like that.”
Melody’s breath caught in her throat, and for the first time, she noticed the vulnerability behind his words. The arrogance was gone, replaced with something raw, unguarded.
Before she could respond, his hand brushed lightly against hers.
The world around her shifted.
Suddenly, she wasn’t in the library anymore.
She was standing by a lake, her reflection shimmering in the water. But it wasn’t Melody looking back at her—it was the woman from the mirror.
She wore an elegant, flowing white wedding gown, lace trailing behind her on the soft grass. The sun was setting over the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the lake. The breeze carried the soft scent of wildflowers, and laughter echoed faintly in the distance.
Beside her stood a man, but it wasn’t Renly.
It was him, the man who looked so much like Renly, but with a few differences. His hair was longer, tied back in a low ponytail that reached his shoulders. And there was an attractive scar cutting through his left eyebrow. His name came to her as though it had always been there—Yenson.
A voice drifted through the air behind her, soft but distinct, like an echo from the past. “Madeleine, this is Yenson, a friend of your groom’s cousin.”
Madeleine. The name lingered in Melody’s mind, sending a chill down her spine.
She blinked, her heart racing, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions that weren’t her own. She could feel Madeleine’s heart pounding, feel the rush of attraction as Yenson’s gaze lingered on her. He smiled, his eyes holding that same playful gleam she had seen in Renly’s, but there was more—something deeper, something forbidden.
Madeleine’s thoughts—her thoughts—whispered through Melody’s mind. He’s not my groom. But he’s everything I wish for.
In the vision, her breath caught as Yenson’s hand brushed hers, a spark of electricity passing between them. Her pulse quickened as she glanced toward the man she was supposed to marry—a distant, cold figure standing with his friends, laughing, completely unaware of her. The contrast was stark. She felt trapped.
Yenson was the temptation, the escape, the freedom Madeleine craved but could never have.
For a fleeting moment, her hand lifted toward Yenson’s, her fingers brushing his.
And then—
Melody blinked again.
She was back in the library, her breath uneven, her pulse racing. Renly’s hand had brushed hers, the tingling sensation still fresh in her fingertips. She stared at him, wide-eyed, her mind reeling.
“What... what was that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Renly frowned, confusion clear in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
She shook her head, taking a step back, her heart thudding in her chest. The vision of Madeleine’s wedding, Yenson’s eyes, and the voice that called her Madeleine—it was too real, too vivid.
“I... I need to go,” she stammered, backing away.
“Melody,” Renly called after her, his voice softer, concerned. “What’s going on?”
But she didn’t stop. She turned and fled the library, her mind spinning with questions. One name kept echoing in her thoughts, louder with every step she took:
Madeleine.
---
© reddragonfly
#MelodyxRenly #timetravel #rebirth #romance #lovehate #collegelife
