Dirk had grown used to silence.
The stillness of his old apartment, lit only by the glow of a laptop screen. The cold quiet of nights filled with comics, cartoons, and empty energy drink cans. Even here at Nevermore, silence was his refuge—though the academy's silence had teeth, whispering secrets through every creak and shadow.
Which is why the knock at his door startled him.
Three light taps. Hesitant.
"Dirk?"
Enid Sinclair's voice, muffled but unmistakably bright.
He debated ignoring it. But something about the softness of her tone pulled him up. Opening the door, he found her standing there in pajamas—pink, fluffy, absolutely opposite of everything Nevermore's Gothic halls represented. She smiled nervously, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.
"Couldn't sleep," she admitted. "Thought maybe you couldn't either."
---
An Unlikely Visitor
Dirk leaned against the frame, studying her. "And what gave you that idea?"
"Because…" Enid shrugged, tilting her head. "You've got that… vibe. Like someone who's always awake, even when they're supposed to be dreaming."
Dirk raised a brow. "You're not wrong."
Her grin widened. "See? My werewolf senses are spot on."
Without waiting for an invitation, she slipped past him into the room. He let her—curious. Most people hesitated around him. Wednesday prodded, tested, set traps. But Enid? She just entered.
She sat cross-legged on his bed, glancing around at the barren space. No posters, no personal trinkets, nothing to suggest ownership.
"Wow," she said. "You've got the aesthetic of… a haunted monastery."
Dirk chuckled lowly. "I travel light."
---
Moonlight Conversation
For a while, they just sat in the moonlight streaming through the tall window. Enid hummed to herself, swinging her legs slightly. Dirk found the sound strangely grounding.
"So…" she began carefully, "you're not really like the other guys here, are you?"
"Is that a question or an observation?"
"Both."
He leaned back, arms folded. "And what makes you so sure?"
"You don't try." Her eyes softened as she met his. "Everyone else is busy proving themselves—outcasts trying to shout louder than the world that rejected them. But you? You just… exist. Like the world has to bend to you, not the other way around."
Dirk tilted his head, surprised at her insight. For all her bubbly chatter, Enid's words carried a sharp clarity.
"Careful," he murmured. "If you keep looking too closely, you might not like what you find."
Enid smiled gently. "Or maybe I'll like it more."
---
A Subtle Shift
Her honesty caught him off guard. She wasn't trying to trap him like Wednesday, or assert authority like Weems. She was simply there. Present. Warm.
Dirk studied her in the moonlight—the way her golden hair caught the silver glow, the way her eyes shone with unfiltered sincerity.
"…You're not afraid of me," he noted.
"Should I be?" she teased.
"Yes."
Her grin widened, sharp yet playful. "Then I guess I'm broken. Because right now, all I feel is… safe."
Something in his chest tightened. Safe. It was not a word often given to people like him.
---
A Small Connection
Enid yawned suddenly, covering her mouth with an embarrassed giggle. "Sorry. Guess I really am sleepy after all."
Dirk motioned to the bed. "Stay, then."
Her eyes widened slightly, but he added quickly, "Just sleep. Nothing more."
After a moment, she nodded, curling up at the edge of the bed like a content pup. Within minutes, her breathing steadied, soft and rhythmic.
Dirk sat at the desk, watching the moonlight play across her face.
For the first time in this new world, the silence felt different.
Not empty. Not lonely.
Just… peaceful.