Roman and Julienne's heart desire
Chapter 78: He pull down the sky for you

Chapter 78: He pull down the sky for you

The sun hung lazily over the University courtyard, its warmth spilling across polished stone walkways and manicured hedges.

It was one of those rare days when the breeze felt kind and the sky stretched endlessly blue—as if even nature had decided to soften.

Julie walked through campus like a shadow reformed—no longer shrinking, no longer folding herself into silence.

Her steps were slow, deliberate. Not because she wanted attention, but because she didn’t need to avoid it anymore.

They noticed her now.

The ones who once sneered. The ones who whispered in corners.

The ones who cast looks like knives when she passed. They saw her.

And they moved.

Not out of cruelty this time—but out of something like reverence.

A boy from Business Management, someone who hadn’t dared speak to her before, offered a casual wave.

"Morning, Julia."

She blinked, then gave a polite nod, her expression neutral but calm.

Another girl from her literature class ran up to her, breathless.

"Hey, you dropped your pen last week—I kept it in case I saw you."

Julie blinked, taken off guard. "Oh. Thank you."

The girl beamed like she’d just returned a lost treasure to a queen.

Not far behind, Ava was watching with her arms folded, a look of pure delight spreading across her face.

"Oh my God," Ava said loud enough to make Julie turn. "You’re like... campus royalty now. What even is this?"

Julie raised a brow. "I’m just walking."

"No. No, no, no." Ava jogged forward and looped her arm through Julie’s.

"You are gliding. Like you’re in a perfume commercial. Did you even notice that dude just moved out of your way like you were wearing a crown?"

"I wasn’t."

"You were in spirit."

Julie tried not to laugh, but Ava’s energy was infectious. Her lips twitched.

They passed two girls who nodded politely at them, and Ava didn’t miss the way their eyes lingered—not in judgment, but in awe.

Julie tilted her head, brows pinching. "This is weird."

"It’s amazing," Ava corrected. "You got torn apart online like some cursed heroine—and then boom. Mr. Thompson comes in like the dark prince he is, and now everyone is pretending they were rooting for you the whole time."

Julie bit her lip, a faint blush creeping in. "You make it sound like a movie."

"Honey, it was better than a movie." Ava twirled dramatically. "You got publicly dragged, digitally humiliated, nearly socially executed—and now look at you. Campus gold. People are afraid to speak your name wrong."

Julie slowed as they reached the stone archway leading to the library gardens.

The place was quieter here. Cooler in the shade. She let out a small sigh.

"Some of them still talk," she admitted. "They still wonder who I am... to him."

Ava scoffed. "Let them wonder—as long as I know who you are to him," she said with a big smile, as if she’d achieved something just by knowing their relationship.

Julie had already told her that Roman was her boyfriend—and Ava believed her.

"But it’s weird," Julie said. "Before, barely anyone acknowledged me. Now, they act like I’m some legend."

Ava bumped her gently. "You kind of are."

They sat beneath a low tree, the bench cool beneath them.

Julie’s face was unreadable for a moment, then softened as she watched the passing students.

The breeze caught a strand of her hair and played with it.

Julie looked down at her hands. "I didn’t even do anything special."

Yes. You didn’t. But Roman did.

"That’s what makes it so wild," Ava said, laughing again. "You survived. You kept walking. You didn’t beg or post or explain yourself. And he came for you. That’s what everyone saw."

Julie looked away, lips curved faintly.

"How did you know?" she asked.

Ava smiled. "It’s obvious enough."

"He loves you, you know," she added more gently.

Julie’s fingers curled slightly. "He hasn’t said it recently."

Ava grinned. "He doesn’t need to. Have you seen how that man looks at you? He’d pull the sky down if you asked."

Julie chuckled—and just then, a pair of students passed by and offered a polite, "Good morning."

To her.

Julie blinked. "That’s new."

Ava nudged her. "Get used to it, Your Grace."

---

Hours passed.

At lunchtime, Julie and Ava made their way to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria wasn’t particularly elegant—just wide windows, long tables, and too many noisy voices. But when Julie walked in, the atmosphere shifted.

People made room.

A guy at the corner table half-stood, unsure if he should offer his seat.

A girl from the design department gave Julie a respectful nod and whispered to her friend. Julie caught the words "power couple."

Ava caught it too. "I swear, you’re the main character now."

Julie glanced at her tray—just rice and chicken, nothing royal about it—and sighed.

A group of third-years waved them over to a quieter table.

"Julie, right?" one asked. "You can sit here if you want."

Julie looked to Ava, uncertain.

Ava grinned and pulled out a chair. "Don’t mind if we do."

The group started talking—mostly normal things: midterms, lectures, tie-wearing professors.

But occasionally, someone would glance at Julie, waiting to hear her speak.

Even Ava was stunned.

Outside afterward, Ava turned and said, "You know what? I’m not even mad. I’m proud."

"Of what?" Julie asked.

"You. For surviving without even fighting. And for scaring the whole university just by being quiet."

Julie raised a brow. "Is that what they think?"

"Yup," Ava nodded. "Mystery. Power. Beauty. Silence. You’re a dangerous mix."

Julie shook her head, laughing again.

---

That evening, Julie sat at her desk, staring at the messages piling into her school inbox—invites from campus groups, collaboration requests, even someone asking if she’d model for the university’s charity magazine.

She closed the lid of her laptop slowly and looked out the window at the soft, dark sky.

Her phone buzzed once.

A message. From Roman.

Roman: How was campus today?

Julie smiled faintly and typed:

Julie: Strange. Peaceful. Everyone’s nice now. It’s weird.

A few seconds later, his reply came:

Roman: Good. Let them be kind. Or let them fear. Just don’t let them break you again.

Julie’s breath caught.

Julie: They can’t. Not anymore.

Her mind drifted to the moment when Roman had told her about the dorm he’d arranged for her and Ava, just a month earlier.

"Julie," Roman had said, just before she climbed out of the car. His voice was soft but serious.

"Yes?"

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took off his sunglasses—revealing the sharp pull of concern in his eyes—and looked at her like she was already halfway bruised.

"You’re always tired," he said. "Every day I pick you up, you fall asleep before the car even hits the highway."

Julie blinked. "I study. I walk a lot. It’s normal."

"It’s not normal to droop like a wilting rose the moment you sit down."

She made a face. "Wilting rose?"

He raised a brow, unfazed. "Yes. A very stubborn one that won’t admit it needs rest."

Before she could argue, he gestured toward the window. "So... I made arrangements. You now have a dorm room on campus. Close to your classes. Fully furnished. Paid for three months. Just... rest there when you need to."

Julie’s eyes widened. "What?"

"It has two beds," he added quickly. "So you’re not alone. Ava’s name is already on the registration. I figured you were close with her based on how often you talk about her."

"You did what?"

Roman gave the smallest shrug. "Got you a dorm with your friend so you both can rest between classes."

Julie stared at him like he’d said he bought the moon and added her name to the lease.

"Roman—"

"Nope," he interrupted as he punched a button and the car door opened. "Wilting roses don’t get voting rights."

"Okay. Thank you," Julie said quietly, and Roman handed her the key with the room number.

She collected it gently, her face blooming with a smile she didn’t bother hiding.

The mattress was soft—just the right balance between firm and forgiving.

Ava had strung up tiny fairy lights over her desk and left them on even when she wasn’t there, giving the room a soft, comforting glow.

It smelled like peppermint lotion and clean laundry—like peace, in scent form.

From her bed, Julie could see both their bags stacked near the corner, one pair of Ava’s shoes sticking out like a kicked-off afterthought.

And somewhere on the wall, pinned just above the light switch, Ava had scribbled in bold marker:

"Dorm Queens Only. Royalty sleep here. Beggars use the library couches."

Ava is clearly a national treasure and deserves both a crown and an honorary degree in sass.

When Ava had first seen the dorm, she had burst out laughing.

"Girl," she said, spinning around the room like it was a luxury hotel. "You don’t even know how you secured yourself! Do you realize how many people are still waitlisted for dorms? Meanwhile, you—"

She pointed dramatically. "—just blinked your eyelashes and the heavens delivered a double bed and mood lighting."

Julie had rolled her eyes. "I didn’t blink anything. Roman—"

Ava gasped. "You even call him Roman like it’s normal. Not Mr. Thompson. Not sir. Not ’your grace, the CEO prince of my fantasies’—just Roman."

Ava still joked, even after knowing they were something now. So of course, it felt natural to Julie to call him by his name.

Julie gave a hopeless smile, her cheeks heating.

Ava waved her hand dramatically. "I can’t. If I stay around you too long, I’ll start expecting emotional support jets and silk pillowcases in my friendships."

And then she’d thrown herself onto the bed, arms wide like she was claiming royalty by association.