The Luna Who Loved Twice

This time, Regina wasn't going to let fate push her around.

No more hiding her feelings. No more waiting for the "right moment" that never came. So during lunch, instead of scrolling her phone like everyone else sprawled across the courtyard lawn, she sat under a tree, legs crossed, earphones in, quietly listening to her grandfather's old Walkman.

She looked peaceful, but inside, her heart was ticking like a time bomb.

"Damn," a familiar voice broke her bubble, "I thought I was the only one in this department with ancient taste."

Regina looked up, startled.

Connor stood there, smirking at the device in her hand.

"What is that? A Walkman? What are you, eighty?"

Regina smiled, feeling something soft bloom in her chest. "It still works."

Connor tilted his head, intrigued. "Let me see."

"Careful," she warned. "It's kind of magical."

He laughed. "Yeah okay, Harry Potter. Or should I call you Hermione Danger?"

And before she could stop him, he plucked the headphones from her and popped one into his ear.

The music was already playing—Here Comes the Sun, soft and slow.

Connor blinked. "Hey, I know this song…..It's my fav…"

But before he could finish his sentence, his world went black.

Connor's eyes snapped open.

The sky looked... wrong. The buildings looked... familiar, but too new.

Then he saw it. The banner.

Welcome to Lunebourne University: Fall 2024 Semester

What the hell?????

Students rushed by with their lanyards and paper maps. Some tripped over suitcase wheels. A girl squealed about her dorm assignment.

He pinched his arm. Hard.

It hurt.

This wasn't a dream.

His senses began to buzz.

He could hear birds too clearly. Smell fresh paint on the welcome booth. Feel the heartbeat of the guy standing five feet away.

What the hell is happening to me?

He spun around. His chest rising and falling too fast.

And then—

Across the quad, sitting on a bench with the sunlight glowing behind her—

Regina.

She looked younger. Just like she did the very first time they met. Hair tied up, a book half open on her lap.

She looked up. Their eyes met. His breath caught in his throat.

Something tugged in his chest. A song. A scent. A memory he hadn't made yet.

He had never seen her before.

And yet… he knew her.

"This can't be real," he whispered.

But it was. Too real.

"She really is a witch or something..."