CHAPTER FIVE

"It's actually really nice, just talking," Dahlia said with a soft laugh, walking casually beside one of her more frequent admirers. There was something oddly pleasant about the moment—an unfamiliar ease in the air. The usual tension that followed their physical encounters, the unspoken expectations and the inevitable awkwardness, seemed entirely absent. It was a new dynamic for them. Today, no advances had been made, no lingering touches, no exchanged looks that carried the weight of something more intimate. Instead, the male had simply suggested they take a walk and talk, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Dahlia didn't feel any compulsion to take it further.

She appreciated it, though she wasn't sure if she should. This wasn't how things usually went for her. Typically, the relationship would follow a well-known script—there would be a flirtatious exchange, some snogging, and possibly more, depending on how things progressed. Yet, here she was, walking side by side with Jonah Wood, talking about anything and everything with no ulterior motives, no expectations to fulfil. He seemed to want the same, just a genuine conversation and Dahlia couldn't help but find it strangely comforting.

Dahlia, in her usual manner, didn't dwell too much on the unspoken implications of this new arrangement. Instead, she simply let the moment happen. It was easier that way. There were no strings attached. This was how she operated in most of her relationships—casual, simple, with a clear understanding that things would never go beyond what was needed. She wasn't the type to go for long-term attachments, not with anyone, and definitely not with someone like Jonah, who was still so young, trying to figure out his own path in the world.

"You know, it really is," Dahlia agreed, her smile easy as she glanced at Jonah. He, unlike his family members, wasn't involved in Quidditch. His father, Oliver Wood, was a famous reserve member for Puddlemere United, and his siblings were well-known for their athleticism and their commitment to the sport. But Jonah had never shared their passion for Quidditch. It had been a quiet source of tension between him and his father, a pressure that Dahlia knew too well. She knew Jonah hadn't been living his life for himself but for the expectations placed on him by his family, particularly his father. And in that way, he had found solace in her presence—her ability to offer him something different, something simple and without obligation.

"I finally told my father," Jonah confessed quietly, breaking the silence. His voice was almost sheepish as if the weight of his confession hadn't fully settled yet. "I told him I didn't want to join the team. He wasn't happy, but I guess you can say I had it easier than most, thanks to my older siblings."

Dahlia looked at him, her curiosity piqued. "Really? What made you decide to finally tell him?"

Jonah's face softened with a gentle smile, and he tilted his head in a shy gesture that seemed to draw Dahlia closer to his vulnerability. "A special someone, someone who's been patient with me."

The words made Dahlia's heart swell with understanding. There it was—the reason behind his change. The reason why he'd suddenly chosen to take a step away from his family's expectations. Dahlia's face softened as well, and she finally understood why he had decided to forgo the usual physical encounter this time. It wasn't about a fleeting connection, a temporary escape—it was about something more, something deeper. Jonah was ready to move forward, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for him. He was finally making a choice for himself, something she had wished for everyone around her to do.

She looked at him with newfound respect, and without thinking, she reached out and gently stopped him mid-step, her hand resting lightly on his robe. He stopped, slightly confused by the unexpected action, but before he could say anything, Dahlia wrapped her arms around him in an embrace, her touch sincere.

"It's time for you to wash your hands clean, Jonah," she whispered, her voice steady. "Continue to be strong, and I wish you all the best in the days to come." She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, her gesture a mix of support and finality.

Jonah smiled warmly at her, his gratitude evident in his eyes. He was still processing the shift, still uncertain about everything that had just happened, but he appreciated it. He appreciated her. As Dahlia began to walk away, her figure slowly retreating, Jonah called out to her, his voice quieter this time, a hint of something unspoken in his tone.

"Promise me you'll find that strength too," he said, his words carrying more weight than she anticipated.

Dahlia stopped mid-step, her back still to him. His words hit her harder than she cared to admit, and for a brief moment, she found herself caught in a web of her own emotions. Was it possible for her to do what Jonah was asking? Was she capable of finding that same strength within herself? Could she allow herself the chance to be strong in a way that didn't involve building walls around her heart?

For a moment, Dahlia stood still, contemplating the question. She wasn't sure how to answer, or if she even wanted to. The walls she had carefully constructed around herself had served their purpose for so long, providing a safety that she had come to rely on. They kept her from getting hurt, from feeling too much.

She turned back toward Jonah, her usual playful expression masking the flicker of uncertainty that flashed across her face. "Of course, I will," she said with a nonchalant smile, though the words felt hollow in her mouth. She didn't want to delve deeper into her emotions, not now. Not here. Not with him.

Without waiting for a response, she walked away, the faint sting in her chest growing stronger with every step. Jonah's words lingered, but she refused to let them take root. She wasn't ready to face them. She wasn't ready to confront the possibility that she too might need strength—strength she had denied herself for so long. She was fine, she told herself. Everything was fine.

And yet, as she disappeared from his view, the weight of his request pressed on her heart, impossible to ignore.