"So, what do you say?" asked a young man with blonde hair and piercing dark blue eyes, his charming smile—the kind that had won over countless hearts—tugging at his lips.
"...I'm not ready," the girl walking beside him replied quietly. They strolled together down the bustling corridor, making their way to the lecture hall.
"Oh, come on! You've been saying that for the entire semester—no, scratch that, since the start of last year. What's really stopping you? Or...are you secretly crushing on someone else?" he teased, though the frustration in his voice was evident.
"There's no one," she said, her tone calm but firm. Her lustrous black hair swayed with each step, and her bluish-green eyes remained fixed ahead. "I'm just... not ready for relationships."
He sighed, exasperation slipping through. "Just be straight with me." Halting abruptly, he stepped in front of her, grasping her shoulders gently but firmly. His intense gaze locked onto hers. "Do you feel anything for me? Anything at all?"
Her lips parted, her voice caught on the edge of a response. "I..."
But before she could finish, he let go, his hands dropping to his sides. "No, don't answer," he said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I already know I won't like what you'll say." Bitterness laced his words, but he tried to mask it.
"...Sorry," she murmured, her gaze falling to the ground as she started walking again.
"You don't have to apologize," he said, catching up. "Just give me a chance. I swear you won't regret it." He stepped in front of her once more, his hands clasping hers.
She hesitated, guilt creeping into her heart. He had been chasing her relentlessly since their first year in college. Each rejection was getting harder, weighing heavier on her conscience.
"Hey—!" Her eyes suddenly widened, catching sight of something—or someone—behind him.
Before he could react— BAM!
"Oh, damn!" he exclaimed, stumbling slightly. He turned to see a figure sprawled on the ground, books scattered around.
"Sorry, bro—" he began, but his voice faltered as he recognized the person. His hand froze mid-air. "It's... you," he muttered, his expression hardening.
The young man on the floor, with hazel-brown hair and eyes, glanced up, his gaze sharp and unyielding. There was something unsettling about the way he stared, as if he could see straight through them.
"What do you mean, 'it's you'? Help him," the girl said, bending down to retrieve one of the fallen books.
But before her fingers could close around it—
"Leave it," the young man said, his voice low and cold as his hand clamped around her wrist.
"Ah!" she gasped, startled by the force of his grip. His hollow brown eyes seemed to pierce through her soul.
"Let her go!" the blonde-haired man demanded, yanking the stranger's hand away.
The young man regarded them both for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he gathered his belongings and walked away.
"Did he hurt you?" the blonde-haired man asked, his concern evident.
"Not really. It's kind of my fault—I should've asked before picking up his things," she replied with a wry smile, cradling her wrist, now marked red from the pressure.
"Are you sure?" he pressed, though his mind was already scheming.
"Yeah." She forced a smile, her eyes meeting his briefly before glancing in the direction the the young man had disappeared.
"You seem to know him," she remarked, sensing familiarity in the tension between them.
"Yeah. The guy's a creep. Stay away from him," he warned, his tone clipped.
"What do you mean?" Her curiosity piqued, but he didn't elaborate.
"It's best if you don't know," he said, walking ahead.
She slowed her pace, lost in thought.
For reasons she couldn't explain…
She wanted to see him again.
...
...
"DUDE, WAKE UP!"
A loud voice jolted me awake. My eyes snapped open.
What… was that? A dream?
Sigh.
I'd been having these dreams about her lately. Could it be a sign? Was she close?
"Hey!" Someone nudged me again. Right—someone had woken me up.
Wait. When did I even fall asleep?
Sigh.
I turned to my side and saw a guy with green hair and eyes, looking panicked as he gestured ahead. I followed his gaze and—
Everyone in the class was staring at me. Great.
"Your name, young man," the teacher demanded, arms crossed. I felt my stomach drop.
"Hehehe." A soft, barely audible giggle reached my ears. I didn't need to look to know who it was—Ariana.
Our eyes met. Her smile vanished, replaced by a cold, indifferent stare.
Crap.