POV: Roman
The noise in class was unbearable. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional screech of chairs scraping against the floor—it was a cacophony that grated on my nerves. I'd tolerated it long enough. Without sparing anyone a glance, I stood and left.
The silence in the hallways was a relief, but the size of the school made it easy to get lost. Wandering aimlessly, I kept my eyes peeled for a school map or some sign to guide me back, but the corridors seemed endless. I passed by a group of students—two boys and a girl. The girl's uniform was slightly rumpled, her hair disheveled, as if she'd been in a scuffle. Yet, she was smiling.
Their laughter echoed behind me, but I didn't care. Whatever was going on with them wasn't my concern.
The hallway grew eerily quiet as I walked further, my footsteps the only sound. Suddenly, I froze.
A faint voice reached my ears.
"Please… Please let me out."
It was weak, barely audible, but unmistakably desperate.
I turned towards the source—a single door at the end of the hallway, its edges worn and faded. The area was desolate, a part of the school that seemed forgotten.
I took a step closer.
The voice came again, softer this time.
"Please…"
My chest tightened as realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Tara.
She was in danger.
******
General POV
Roman pushed the door open with a firm shove, the rusty hinges groaning in protest. The sound echoed ominously in the empty corridor.
Inside, the air was damp, carrying a faint metallic scent.
And there she was.
Tara lay slumped on the cold floor, her body battered and bruised. Her once-neat hair was matted, and her uniform was smeared with dirt. The sight of her—so strong and unyielding in class—reduced to this fragile, broken state, sent a wave of anger coursing through Roman.
He hesitated only a second before moving to her side. "Tara," he called, his voice surprisingly soft.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and when she saw him, her expression shifted to a mixture of relief and frustration. "I'm fine," she murmured, her voice weak but stubborn.
Roman ignored her protests and carefully slid his arms beneath her. She flinched at first, but he tightened his grip.
"Stop moving," he ordered, his voice firm but not unkind. "You're hurt."
Her resistance was feeble, and soon, she relented, allowing him to lift her off the ground.
The walk to the infirmary felt longer than it was, each step a reminder of the weight of her injuries. Roman's jaw clenched as he replayed her earlier cries for help. Whoever did this to her was going to pay.
The nurse gasped when Roman carried Tara into the school bay.
"What happened?" the nurse asked, rushing over.
"She was locked in a room," Roman said, his tone colder than usual. "Bruised and hurt."
The nurse immediately began tending to Tara, cleaning her wounds and checking for any severe injuries. Roman stood back, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His expression was unreadable, but inside, a storm brewed.
He thought of the three students he'd seen earlier—the girl's disheveled appearance and the boys' smug faces. It had to be them.
They'll pay for this, he thought darkly, his fists clenching.
Minutes turned into an hour. Tara lay on the infirmary bed, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow. Roman hadn't moved from his spot by the door.
The quiet was interrupted by a faint vibration.
Roman frowned, glancing at his phone, but it was silent. The sound was coming from Tara.
Her phone.
It buzzed faintly in the chest pocket of her uniform. Roman hesitated, his hand twitching as he debated whether to retrieve it. But before he could act, Tara stirred, her fingers brushing against the phone as she pulled it out.
She answered the call, her voice hoarse but steady. "Hello?"
"T, where are you?" Kara's voice was laced with concern. "Why aren't you in class?"
"I'm in the school bay," Tara replied, her tone carefully neutral. "But I'm fine. Don't come here—I mean it. If I'm not back soon, just tell Mum and Dad I'll be working on a project or in math class. Okay?"
"Tara, are you sure you're okay?" Kara pressed, the worry evident in her voice.
"I'm fine," Tara lied, forcing a weak smile. "And… sorry about the snacks. Buy something for yourself, okay?"
Before Kara could protest, Tara ended the call and set her phone aside.
When she looked up, her eyes met Roman's.
"What?" she asked, frowning at his intense stare. "Is there something on my face?"
"No," Roman replied flatly. "But why did you lie to her?"
Tara blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
"You said you'd be in math class. I'm in your math group, and we don't have class today."
Her surprise turned into mild annoyance. "Didn't know you paid attention to schedules," she muttered. "I lied because Kara would freak out if she knew the truth. I can handle this on my own."
"And what's your plan?" Roman challenged. "Hide in here forever?"
Tara's glare sharpened. "None of your business. Why do you care anyway?"
Roman ignored her question. "Why not report it? The disciplinarian—"
"Drake's father is the disciplinarian," Tara interrupted, her voice bitter. "Reporting this will make things worse. You wouldn't understand."
Roman said nothing.
Tara sighed, leaning back against the bed. "I'm fine now. You can go."
He hesitated, his expression unreadable.
"Go," she repeated.
"Fine," he muttered. "But I'm bringing you food first."
Before she could protest, he turned and left.
---
Roman returned minutes later, his arms laden with snacks—sandwiches, chips, chocolates, drinks. It was an overwhelming assortment.
Tara stared at the pile, her eyes wide. "What is this?"
"I didn't know what you liked," Roman said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "So I got everything I've seen you eat."
For a moment, she just stared at him. Then, to his surprise, she laughed.
"You're so weird," she said, shaking her head. "One minute, you're a jerk, and the next, you're… this. Don't get me wrong—the way to my heart is food, but you're not getting anywhere near it."
Roman chuckled softly, surprising even himself.
Tara's laughter stopped abruptly. She stared at him, wide-eyed. "Wait. Did you just laugh?"
"No," Roman said quickly, his expression hardening.
"Yes, you did," she teased, grinning. "The stern-faced weirdo laughed."
Roman stammered out a denial, but Tara only laughed harder.
And as her laughter filled the room, Roman found himself smiling faintly. But beneath his calm exterior, his anger simmered. Whoever hurt her was going to pay.