Emily stared at Howie, her mind blank amidst the faint whispers of her classmates and the distant flutter of birds outside the window. The world suddenly felt noisy, yet she couldn't make sense of any of it.
On the podium, Howie's gaze found hers.
His eyes were dark—dark as the night.
His intense stare cut through the rows of desks, locking onto her, seated in the far back of the classroom.
He held her gaze.
She held his, her face growing pale, lips caught between her teeth, fingers gripping the pen tightly. In her daze, a sharp "scratch" sounded as the pen tore a deep line across the paper.
Meanwhile, right beside her, Ryan was fast asleep on his desk. His breathing was steady, lips curved in a relaxed smile, oblivious to the new transfer student standing at the front of the room or the palpable tension that had gripped Emily. He hadn't seen anything.
"Howie, find a seat. Class is about to start," the staff member said, leaving the room.
The students in International Trade whispered in excited curiosity. This was shaping up to be quite the unusual semester. When Emily transferred in the middle of term, it had already raised eyebrows. Now, barely a month from the semester's end, another transfer? The mystery deepened. Perhaps Elm Academy's appeal had grown in ways no one had anticipated. Or maybe Lingyun Academy, with its glittering reputation, wasn't quite as golden as people had thought.
Howie descended from the platform, moving down the narrow aisle between the desks. His face remained a mask of indifference, but the rigid line of his spine and the impenetrable darkness of his eyes exuded a silent arrogance that was impossible to ignore.
The girls, feigning nonchalance, busied themselves with their belongings, each secretly hoping he would choose the seat beside them.
But his gaze didn't waver.
He walked straight toward the back of the room.
Emily could feel the weight of his footsteps drawing closer—each step heavier than the last, pressing down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She inhaled sharply, gripping her pen tighter, as if it were her lifeline. But in her anxious grasp, the pen slipped from her fingers. It bounced once on the desk before tumbling to the floor with a loud clatter.
The pen rolled across the ground.
And came to rest before a pair of polished black shoes.
Howie bent down and picked up the pen.
For reasons unknown, as Howie—towering at nearly six foot three—stooped to pick up the small, seemingly insignificant pen, a collective hush of admiration swept through the classroom. Many of the girls couldn't help but feel a sudden, inexplicable awe.
He handed the pen back to her.
"Thank you," Emily murmured softly, her gaze fixed on the desk, avoiding his eyes.
She reached for the pen in his fingers, but instead of releasing it, he held it tightly—so firmly, in fact, it seemed as though he never intended to let it go. Startled, her fingers hovered stiffly over the pen, hesitating. After a lingering pause of two or three seconds, he finally took her hand, placing the pen gently into her palm, then closed her fingers around it.
His hand was icy to the touch.
Emily bit her lip and, for the first time, lifted her eyes to meet his. His gaze, once sharp and predatory like an eagle's, now appeared shadowed, dimmed, as though something within him had been wounded.
Without a word, he turned and walked away.
He sat down in the seat next to hers, separated only by the narrow aisle. Quietly, he began arranging his books and supplies, the silence between them growing heavier by the moment.
"Hey! Who the hell is that?!"
Ryan's deep voice rumbled with irritation. Damn it. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was that guy holding Emily's hand! How dare he touch her, and worse—she seemed completely lost in a daze, as if mesmerized.
Emily jumped, startled by his sudden outburst. "You're awake?"
"I asked you, who is he?!" Ryan demanded, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Oh... he's..." She hesitated, forcing a nervous smile, "He's the new transfer student."
"Where did he transfer from?" Ryan's voice dropped, eyes narrowing dangerously.
"...Lingyun Academy."
Lingyun Academy again. Ryan's gaze sharpened as he scrutinized her, a frown creasing his forehead. He studied her carefully, his suspicion growing. "Do you know him?"
Emily quickly lowered her eyes to the textbook, her voice evasive, "Ah, the teacher just introduced him."
"Emily!"
Ryan's shout echoed through the classroom, causing every head to turn. Even the professor of International Finance, who had just stepped through the door, looked startled.
Howie turned his head slowly, his dark eyes locking onto Ryan with an unfathomable depth.
Ryan glared back at him, his jaw clenched in a challenge.
The tension in the room was palpable, so thick that the students could almost hear the crackling sparks igniting between the two—an electric, wordless clash of wills.
Emily tugged at Ryan's shirt, carefully gauging the simmering anger etched on his face. She lowered her voice, "Class is starting."
"What of it?" he growled, his frustration barely contained. "Tell me, who is he?" The intensity of his gaze bore into her; there was no way they had just met, especially with the way that guy looked at Emily—it was infuriating.
"I need to take notes..." she murmured, her tone even softer.
"What kind of notes?"
"If I take good notes, you'll have a better chance of excelling when you study for exams," she replied, her voice brightening as she flashed him an endearing smile, her eyes crescent-shaped and sparkling.
"Who cares about being excellent?" he mumbled, feeling the heat of his anger unexpectedly dissipate in the warmth of her smile.
"And you shouldn't sleep through class; this finance professor is actually quite good."
"Are you trying to drive me crazy? Mind your own business!" He shot her a glare before flopping back onto his desk. The afternoon sun was far too glaring for anything resembling focus; it was perfect for napping.
"Too much sleep will turn you into a pig..." she whispered under her breath.
"Thwack!"
A playful flick landed on her forehead, making her wince. Emily sighed softly; how could he be asleep and still hear her?
In his dreams, Ryan broke into a wide, childlike smile, one that could warm the coldest of hearts. Emily gazed at him in a daze, the finance professor's lecture drifting away like wisps of smoke, unheard and forgotten.
How she longed to remain by his side, to simply be there, quietly guarding his slumber, cherishing this peaceful moment together.