On a May morning at precisely 7:15 AM, the schoolyard was bathed in soft golden sunlight. Gentle rays scattered across the leaves, casting shimmering patterns on the ground. The first breezes of early autumn swept through, carrying the scent of fresh grass, crisp new textbooks, and the lingering breath of a season in transition.
St. Helios Academy—one of the most prestigious schools in the city—stood with an air of quiet grandeur. Its ivory-white buildings towered over the campus, their wide windows welcoming the morning sun. Long, straight corridors stretched endlessly, shaded by the towering ancient trees that lined them. The school grounds were a serene blend of towering almond trees and flame-red phoenix flowers, creating a scene both peaceful and full of life.
Students chattered excitedly, their voices buzzing with unfinished summer stories. Laughter echoed through the hallways, weaving into the rhythm of a new school year.
Serena Egbert—her name was not one that stood out in the school, yet she possessed an unmistakable presence. She was the kind of person who never sought attention but somehow drew it anyway. Some said she was too quiet, while others described her as gentle, like the autumn breeze.
To her teachers, she was a diligent student—neither outstanding nor lacking, always maintaining steady grades. To her peers, she was more of a listener than a speaker, but whenever she did speak, her words always carried weight.
She had a slender frame and eyes as clear as a tranquil autumn lake, their depths shimmering with an almost imperceptible ripple. Her long, jet-black hair cascaded down to her waist, flowing like a gentle stream over smooth stones.
Her porcelain skin enhanced her delicate aura—not the kind of fragility that begged for protection, but a quiet resilience, one that could withstand even the harshest winds of life.
People often said there were those born with an air that made others want to protect them. But with Serena, it was different. She made people want to understand her—to reach beyond her quiet exterior and uncover the world she kept hidden inside.
She was neither the school's celebrated beauty nor its top student, yet there was always something captivating about her stillness.
Standing beneath an old almond tree, she absentmindedly flipped through the pages of her book. The remnants of summer still lingered in her thoughts—the lazy afternoons, the drowsy midday naps beneath a thin blanket, the quiet nights spent gazing at the stars beyond her window.
And now, as a new school year began, she wondered if things would remain as peaceful as they had been. Exams would pile up, invisible pressures would creep into her days, and old—perhaps even new—connections would weave into the fabric of her life in ways she couldn't yet predict.
Her gaze followed the birds gliding across the vast, cloudless sky. She liked this feeling—the fleeting calm before the storm of academia began again.
"What are you doing here?"
A familiar voice sounded behind her.
Cedric Lawrence—the renowned heir of the Lawrence family, known by everyone in school. He wasn't just strikingly handsome; he was brilliant, with an unparalleled academic record and an influential background.
In a crowd, he was always the center of attention. But to Serena, he was something else—something harder to define. A part of her past, someone who had once been close yet, at times, felt like a stranger.
She turned slightly, meeting his steady gaze. He looked the same as ever—tall, with impossibly long legs, dressed in a crisp white shirt with his hands casually tucked into his pockets. His fair skin was bright under the sunlight, but not in a cold way. His deep-set eyes seemed to hold an entire sky within them. A sharply defined jawline, a straight nose, thin lips that often carried a calm arrogance. The sunlight draped over his shoulder, accentuating the commanding presence he naturally exuded.
Serena smiled faintly. "Waiting for someone to ask me that."
Cedric chuckled, stepping forward, slightly closing the space between them. "Then I suppose I'm the lucky one."
Serena tilted her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Or perhaps just the most curious."
He smirked but said nothing in response.
"But standing here alone, you do seem a little lonely," he observed.
She shook her head, her gaze drifting over the bustling campus. "Not really. Sometimes, standing alone is the best way to soak in the first day of school."
Cedric studied her for a moment before lazily reaching out, catching a gently falling almond leaf in midair. "Then I'll stand here with you—to make sure the wind doesn't carry you away."
He raised a brow, lips curving slightly. "Have you found your answer yet?"
"I have." She closed her book and turned to leave. "No one."
He watched her disappear into the crowd of students. A soft breeze swept past, carrying the faintest trace of her scent. He stood there, as if he were an unfinished stroke in an autumn painting.
The new school year had begun, and with it, so had something else.
In the distance, a group of students ran past. One of them accidentally bumped into Serena. She staggered slightly, but before she could lose her balance, a hand gently caught her wrist, steadying her.
She looked up—straight into Cedric Lawrence's gaze.
He didn't say anything. Just held her there for a moment before slowly letting go.
And in that moment, a memory surfaced—one from two years ago, on a rainy September afternoon.
That day, she had been sitting under the library's awning, hugging her knees, quietly watching the raindrops splash against the tiled ground. The downpour was relentless, and she had forgotten her umbrella.
Cedric Lawrence had appeared, saying nothing. He simply placed an umbrella beside her and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the rain. He didn't urge her to leave. He didn't try to shield her. He was just there—like a silent presence in the chaos of the world.
"Why aren't you going inside?" His voice had been calm, unhurried.
She had pressed her lips together, still watching the raindrops spill from the awning. "The rain is too heavy."
"So you're planning to sit here until it stops?"
She had remained silent. He hadn't pressed her for an answer. After a moment of quiet, he nudged the umbrella closer. "Take it. I don't need it."
She had looked up, meeting his gaze. "You really don't?"
He had shrugged. "Not in the habit of using umbrellas."
She had let out a soft chuckle, finally reaching for the handle. Her fingertips brushed against a lingering raindrop. Her eyes, so clear, reflected the shimmering beads of water. "Thank you."
He hadn't replied, merely continuing to watch the rain.
At the time, Cedric hadn't understood why he had lingered for so long. Perhaps it was because of her—the girl sitting beneath the awning, her clear eyes holding reflections of the storm.
At that moment, he had realized how strangely captivating her presence was. Not because she sought attention, but because she was a rare kind of quiet in a world that never stopped moving.
It was an unfamiliar feeling, yet oddly familiar—like autumn rain, gentle but persistent.
From that day on, his gaze would always unconsciously search for her in a crowd.
And now, as he once again reached out to steady her, Serena suddenly realized—there are some people who, no matter how far they drift, will always find their way back beside you.
That thought barely surfaced before she pushed it away. She disliked this feeling—hated even more the way his gaze seemed to see right through her.
Serena's steps quickened as she crossed the empty hallway. For some reason, a vague sense of inevitability settled over her… As if, no matter how hard she tried to escape, Cedric Lawrence would still find his way into her world—so effortlessly, so maddeningly natural.
Perhaps, just like this autumn..