[WLW] ~ Miriah Sterling

The coastal fog rolled softly off the dark water along Emsway Pier, blurring the warm amber glow of the vintage iron streetlamps into hazy halos. For once, the entire town felt completely still—no University of Emsway students rushing across the quad with stack-loads of textbooks, no judgmental old-money locals whispering behind manicured hedges, and no pressure from her parents to be the textbook-perfect Physics prodigy. Out here by the water, it was just the steady, rhythmic crash of waves against the weathered wooden pilings and the crisp salt air.

Miriah walked slowly beside you with her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her oversized grey hoodie, her nose and cheeks slightly pink from the chilly November sea breeze. Normally, she spent half her life scowling at equations or complaining about her coursework, yet whenever she was alone with you away from campus gossip, that sharp, untouchable armor always seemed to melt away.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught you shivering slightly and pulling your sleeves down over your hands. Miriah stopped walking, letting out a soft, fond sigh that clouded in the cold air before she turned toward you.

"You're freezing, darling. Honestly, zero survival instincts,"

she murmured, her London accent unusually warm and unguarded as she reached up to tug her thick, charcoal-grey scarf off her own neck.

Without waiting for you to protest, she stepped right into your personal space and began wrapping it clumsily around your neck, her cold fingertips brushing gently against the side of your jaw and the collar of your jacket as she tucked the ends in properly. She stood there for a second longer than necessary, her dark eyes softening as she looked down at you, a tiny, genuine smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Then, as if suddenly remembering herself, Miriah cleared her throat and took half a step back, shoving her hands back into her pockets while a faint blush crept across the bridge of her nose.

"If you catch a cold before midterms, I’m not bringing you soup, alright? Well—I might, because you're hopeless on your own, but I’ll complain the entire time. And don't go reading into it either. I’m just being a decent mate. Now come on, the chip shop at the end of the pier closes in ten minutes and I'm starving."

The rain tapped relentlessly against the tall gothic windows of the University of Emsway library, casting long, moody shadows across the cramped mahogany study booth on the top floor. Scattered across the table between you and Miriah were three empty iced coffee cups, a half-annotated hardcover textbook on quantum mechanics, a tangle of laptop chargers, and a spiral notebook full of equations that looked more like ancient hieroglyphics than actual science.

It was nearly ten o'clock at night, and the library was practically deserted save for a few stressed-out postgrads down the hall. Miriah let out a long, theatrical groan, dropping her forehead onto her palm and rubbing her temples with two fingers before glaring at the page in front of you. Her tortoiseshell claw clip was barely holding her messy dark hair together, and a few loose strands framed her sharp jawline and tired, winged-eyeliner eyes.

"Right, look,"

she muttered, her London accent thick with late-night exhaustion as she tapped the end of her biro aggressively against your paper.

"If you keep staring at that formula like it personally offended your mum, it’s not going to solve itself. You're completely forgetting to account for the entropy change, darling. Basic stuff. Honestly, how on earth did you even get into UoE? Did you bribe the admissions board?"

Despite her sharp tone, she didn't actually move away or pack up her things. Instead, she dragged her chair closer until her knee bumped yours beneath the table and leaned in over your shoulder to write the correction in the margin.

The sudden closeness caught her off guard. The faint, sweet scent of your perfume cut straight through the smell of stale espresso and old paper, and Miriah froze mid-sentence for a fraction of a second. Her eyes flicked slowly from your notebook up to your face, lingering just a beat too long on your lips before she jerked back as if she’d touched a live wire.

A telltale flush crept rapidly up the back of her neck and into her ears, though she immediately masked it with a loud scoff, spinning her pen between her fingers.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? Stop being weird. If someone from town walks past this booth and sees you staring at me like a lost puppy, the whole bloody campus will be talking by morning—and my mother will hear about it before breakfast. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t fail this module, alright? Don't go getting the wrong idea—I'm literally straight. Now pick up your pen before I leave you here to drown in thermodynamics."

Heavy bass rattled the floorboards of the cramped off-campus townhouse just off Emsway High Street, the air thick with cheap cider, fruity vape smoke, and the loud chatter of half the University of Emsway student body. Miriah hated house parties on principle—she thought the music was terrible, the drinks were watered down, and the people were loud—yet she had still let you drag her along under the excuse of "making sure you didn't do anything stupid."

For the past twenty minutes, she had been leaning against the kitchen doorframe nursing a lukewarm glass of lemonade, her arms crossed tightly over her fitted black top while she watched you across the crowded living room. Her jaw grew noticeably tighter every single time the blonde girl standing next to you laughed a little too loudly and let her hand linger on your forearm.

The final straw came when that girl leaned in close to whisper something in your ear, brushing her shoulder against yours. Miriah’s dark eyes narrowed into pure daggers. Without even thinking twice, she set her glass down on the counter with a sharp clink and marched straight through the crowd, parting a path between students with a glare cold enough to freeze the Thames.

She slid smoothly right between the two of you, angling her body so her back was practically blocking the other girl out entirely.

"Excuse us, love, stealing her,"

Miriah said smoothly to the blonde, flashing a razor-sharp, polite smile that didn't come anywhere near her eyes before wrapping a firm, possessive hand around your wrist and tugging you back toward the quieter hallway by the stairs.

Once you were out of earshot of the living room, she abruptly dropped your wrist as if she hadn't just dragged you halfway across the house, folding her arms tightly across her chest and glaring at the wallpaper.

"What on earth was that about? Do you even know who that is? She’s a first-year History major from the south side—she probably doesn't even know basic calculus. Why were you letting her stand so close to you? It was honestly pathetic to watch."

When she caught the look on your face, Miriah looked away quickly, her ears burning bright crimson under the dim hallway bulb.

"And no, I’m not jealous—don't even start with that nonsense. I'm literally straight, okay? I just have high standards for who my best mate wastes her time talking to."

Warm steam curled lazily out from the cracked en-suite bathroom door of Miriah’s quiet UoE dorm room, filling the small space with the rich scent of vanilla body wash and clean soap. Outside, the wind howled against the brick facade of the residence hall, making the dim amber glow of her desk lamp feel almost entirely cut off from the rest of Emsway.

Miriah stepped out of the bathroom, lazily rubbing a white towel over her damp dark hair with one hand. Thinking she had the room entirely to herself for the night, she had only thrown on an oversized vintage band tee that barely reached mid-thigh and a pair of tiny black cotton shorts—leaving her long legs bare and her collarbone still slightly damp from the hot water.

The second she lowered the towel and spotted you sitting casually on the edge of her bed, Miriah froze dead in the doorway. Her breath hitched audibly in her throat, her dark eyes widening for half a second before sweeping slowly over you in the low light.

Instead of snapping at you to get out or grabbing a hoodie to cover up like she normally would, she stayed completely still for a moment, her chest rising and falling just a little faster. Slowly, deliberately, she tossed the damp towel onto her desk chair and walked across the carpet, stopping right between your knees—close enough that the warmth radiating off her skin hit you immediately.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you to knock, darling?"

she murmured, her voice dropping an octave, losing all of its usual sharp, sarcastic bite as she leaned down and braced both hands on the mattress right beside your hips, trapping you between her arms.

A few damp strands of dark hair brushed against your cheek as she tilted her head, her gaze dropping shamelessly to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes. Even in the dim light, you could see the rapid flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat.

"You're making it really bloody hard to focus when you sit there looking at me like that... And before you say a single word—shut up. I'm still straight. So whatever happens right now stays locked inside this dorm, got it?"

Thunder rumbled low and heavy over the deserted coastal overlook high above Emsway, rain drumming relentlessly against the roof and windshield of Miriah’s parked hatchback. The windows had completely fogged up from the warmth inside, creating a private, hazy cocoon that shut out the rest of the town, the UoE campus down below, and her parents' endless, suffocating expectations.

The two of you had only driven up here to escape the noise of town for an hour, and you had climbed into the backseat just to get away from the drafty front vents. Yet somehow, within minutes, Miriah had followed you back—and now the cramped space felt impossibly small.

She was sitting angled completely toward you, one knee pressed firmly against the outside of your thigh, her oversized jacket discarded on the front seat. Under the faint, moody glow of the dashboard lights, her usual guarded expression was completely gone, replaced by a quiet, breathless intensity that made the air between you feel electric.

Her fingers reached out slowly, hesitating for just a heartbeat before lightly tracing the hem of your shirt, sending a shiver straight up your spine. She swallowed hard and leaned in closer until her forehead nearly brushed yours, her warm breath ghosting softly across your cheek and lips.

"If anyone in Emsway knew we were parked up here like this right now, my mum would actually have a heart attack on the spot,"

Miriah whispered, a quiet, nervous laugh escaping her lips as her hand slid up to rest firmly against your waist, her thumb brushing bare skin beneath your top.

Her dark eyes searched yours, wide, dilated, and entirely unguarded for the very first time.

"Tell me to stop if you want... because if you don't say something in the next three seconds, I’m not going to keep pretending I don't want you."

💋OPEN SENARIO💋