The lecture hall smelled faintly of ink and old paper, the hum of quiet conversations echoing off the high ceilings. Evanna Melrose sat exactly where she always did—fourth row from the back, aisle seat. Close enough to hear, far enough to be invisible.

Her notebook lay open on the desk, pen poised between her fingers, but she wasn’t writing.

Not yet.

She was early. She was always early.

Another page of neat handwriting, another step closer to the life she’d promised herself.

No distractions.

No mistakes.

Not this time.

The door creaked open at the front of the hall. She didn’t look up.

More students shuffled in, filling rows with an easy buzz of energy. Someone laughed, sharp and carefree, and something in the sound tugged at her.

It was familiar in a way that made her stomach twist.

The footsteps came next. Heavy. Unhurried.

Confident.

She told herself not to look.

But her body betrayed her, gaze flicking toward the aisle.

And there he was.

Adrian Sinclair.

For a second, everything froze.

He was older. Broader. The boy she remembered had sharp edges, but this man was carved from something rougher, something raw. Black hair fell messily over his forehead, just long enough to brush his lashes. His jaw was sharper now, his mouth still that same infuriating smirk that made hearts race and heads ache.

But it was his eyes that hit her hardest.

Storm-gray, darkened by time.

Haunted.

Dangerous.

And for the briefest moment, unguarded.

He saw her.

She snapped her gaze back to her notebook as if the ink could save her.

Footsteps again. Closer.

And then a shadow fell over the seat beside her.

“Is this taken?”

His voice was deeper now. Rough, like smoke and midnight.

Her throat tightened. “Plenty of other seats.”

But he was already lowering himself into the chair next to hers, sprawling like he belonged there.

Like he’d never left.

“Yeah,” he said casually. “But none of them are next to you.”

Her pulse thundered in her ears.

She stared down at her notes, willing herself to focus on the words.

He didn’t say anything else for a long moment. Just sat there, tapping his pen lightly against the desk.

But she could feel him watching her.

Like he always had.

Like no time had passed.

“Evanna.”

He said her name like it was something fragile. Something dangerous.

And she hated the way her heart stumbled over it.

She inhaled slowly. “Adrian.”

His name tasted like old wounds and unfinished stories.

“You look…”

He trailed off, as if searching for the right word.

“Different.”

She glanced at him then, just once.

“So do you.”

But they both knew he’d changed more.

She’d built walls.

He’d become one.

And now they were sitting side by side, again.

And this time, there was no running away.

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and familiar, threading through her chest like it still belonged there.

“Miss me?”

His voice was quiet, almost lazy, but she knew better. It was a challenge. A dare.

Evanna didn’t look at him.

“No.”

The word was sharp, practiced.

But her pen trembled slightly between her fingers, and she knew he saw it.

He always noticed things like that.

Adrian leaned back in his seat, arms folding behind his head in that careless way that used to make half their class sigh under their breath.

“Liar,” he murmured.

She clenched her jaw and forced her eyes to the front of the room. The professor’s voice started, words blurring into meaningless sound as the heat of Adrian’s presence settled beside her like a second skin.

Ten minutes in, he hadn’t moved.

But she felt him.

And when his knee accidentally—or not—bumped against hers under the table, she snapped her notebook shut.

“After class,” she hissed under her breath, not daring to look at him.

“What?” His tone was teasing, but there was something raw beneath it.

“We’ll talk after class,” she said, fingers gripping the edge of the desk like it was the only thing holding her together.

A pause.

Then—

“Thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I don’t,” she whispered. “But I can’t focus with you staring at me.”

He exhaled a low laugh.

“You were always so honest.”

“You were always so exhausting.”

Another laugh, this time softer.

“Missed that too.”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, willing the ache in her chest to dull.

This was supposed to be a clean slate.

No distractions.

And yet here he was, Adrian Sinclair, wrecking her carefully ordered life like he always did—just by existing.

After Class:

When the lecture finally ended, Evanna was already packing her things with quick, practiced movements. She could feel Adrian watching her.

He waited until she stood before he rose too, matching her pace as she made for the door.

“Where?” he asked, casual as if this was normal.

She didn’t answer at first. Her feet carried her out of the building, down the steps, toward the quiet path behind the science block. Less people. Less noise. Less chance of anyone seeing them.

Once they reached the old bench half-hidden by ivy, she stopped.

He raised a brow.

“Romantic,” he drawled.

“Shut up,” she snapped, crossing her arms. “Why are you here?”

For a moment, he said nothing.

The wind picked up, ruffling his dark hair. His hands slid into his pockets, but his eyes—those eyes—never left hers.

“Same reason you are,” he said finally. “Trying to figure out who I am now.”

She swallowed hard. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“Neither did I.”

The words hung between them, heavier than either of them expected.

“But you’re here anyway,” she said quietly.

“So are you.”

Silence.

And then—

“I’m not that kid anymore, Evanna.”

She searched his face. The sharp edges. The shadowed eyes.

“No,” she agreed softly. “You’re not.”

And neither was she....

FLASHBACK

It was 4:00 p.m. when Evanna returned to the hostel after vacation. The building smelled the same—a mix of old wood, ink, and faint detergent—but something felt different.

“Did you hear?” Aria, one of her friends, practically bounced as she walked beside her. “About the new guy?”

Evanna shot her a look, shifting her duffle bag on her shoulder. “What new guy?”

“There’s this transfer student,” chimed in another friend, Maya. “He’s… you won’t believe it. In just a few days, he’s already got every girl in school falling over him.”

Evanna rolled her eyes. “Seriously? It’s the middle of the session. Who transfers now?”

“No one knows why,” Maya shrugged. “He just showed up one day. His name’s Adrian Sinclair.”

Evanna frowned, more out of mild curiosity than interest. People who transferred mid-year usually had baggage—academic trouble, family drama, or worse. And she wasn’t about to get tangled in anyone’s mess.

“I guess he’s beautiful,” Aria added with a dreamy sigh.

Evanna smirked. “Pretty faces don’t fix grades.”

They all laughed, and soon Evanna excused herself. She climbed the old staircase to the study hall on the second floor, intending to unpack her books before dinner. Her mind was already ticking through her to-do list when noise from the TV room caught her attention.

Curiosity tugged at her. She glanced in as she passed by.

The room was crowded, students crammed onto old couches and bean bags, all eyes glued to the TV. But it wasn’t the show they were watching that caught Evanna’s eye.

It was him.

Sitting in the corner, like he couldn’t care less about the chaos around him. A boy with messy black hair, slouched posture, and a black mask covering half his face. He wore it indoors, even here in the hostel. His hood was up, shadowing most of his features. But even so, Evanna could tell there was something… off.

She paused for a heartbeat, eyebrows knitting together.

“What an idiot,” she muttered under her breath.

Who the hell wears a mask inside the hostel? Trying to be edgy or something?

Shaking her head, she moved on. She had better things to do.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

Perfect. Let’s lead on—slow burn, steady tension. We’ll build the atmosphere, hint at their connection before it snaps into place.

Over the next few days, Evanna settled back into routine. Classes, study hall, meals. Life moved predictably, the way she liked it.

Except for him.

Adrian Sinclair.

He was everywhere without really being there.

She’d pass him in the corridors—always with that mask, hands stuffed in his pockets, a permanent slouch in his walk. He barely spoke. And yet, people talked about him constantly.

The girls whispered.

The boys watched warily.

The teachers seemed to ignore him like he wasn’t worth the trouble… or maybe they were scared.

Evanna didn’t care. At least that’s what she told herself.

But one night, close to curfew, she found herself in the common area by the vending machine, fishing for a late snack. She heard the soft click of a lighter before she saw him.

Adrian sat on the windowsill, legs dangling out, a cigarette balanced loosely between his fingers. He wasn’t smoking it, just rolling it back and forth, like it was something familiar in a world he didn’t quite trust.

He didn’t notice her. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care.

Evanna hesitated for a moment, then grabbed her snack and turned to leave.

“You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

The words were quiet. Sharp enough to stop her in her tracks.

She turned halfway. “What?”

“You keep looking at me like I’m dumb,” he said. His voice was rough. Not from arrogance, but wear. Tear. Smoke.

Like he’d been breathing in things that burned for far too long.

Evanna blinked. “I don’t think about you at all.”

Adrian chuckled. Dry. Like he didn’t believe her.

He flicked the lighter again, the tiny flame flaring then vanishing. “That’s worse.”

They stayed like that for a moment.

Her by the vending machine, him by the window.

Two strangers in a place that wasn’t home for either of them.

“Why the mask?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Adrian turned his head slightly. His eyes found hers over the dark fabric.

“Because people get uncomfortable when they see someone who doesn’t fake it.”

She didn’t answer.

She wasn’t sure she could.

Word spread fast in the hostel.

Adrian Sinclair got beaten up. Again.

This time, not by students—but by a teacher.

Evanna overheard the whispers in the mess hall the next morning.

“Did you hear? Mr. Ramesh lost it on him.”

“Apparently Adrian was back-talking in class…”

“…they said he shoved a desk, broke the leg off.”

She barely glanced up from her plate.

Section C drama. It wasn’t her problem.

And yet…

Later that day, during lunch break, she caught sight of him.

He sat alone in the far corner of the courtyard. Hoodie up. Mask on. One hand in his pocket, the other clutching an ice pack to the side of his face.

No one went near him.

The school had rules. Zero tolerance for violence. But everyone knew teachers got away with things, especially with kids like him.

The ‘problem students’.

The ones no one fought for.

Evanna told herself she didn’t care.

She picked at her food, kept her head down.

But her chest felt tight in a way she didn’t like.

---

Later That Evening — Hostel Corridor

Evanna was heading back to her room when she noticed it.

A small smear of blood on the stair rail.

And a trail of faint scuff marks, like someone had been dragged.

She paused. Looked up.

Adrian was slumped against the wall near the fire escape.

Mask off.

His face was a mess. A split lip. A bruise blooming dark along his cheekbone. There was something about the way he sat there—like he wasn’t even surprised. Like he expected it.

He noticed her staring.

For a second, neither of them moved.

“Now you know,” he said quietly.

His voice was hoarse.

“Why I wear the damn mask.”

Evanna swallowed hard.

But she said nothing.

Just turned and kept walking.

She didn’t stop thinking about him for the rest of the night....

Days passed.

Adrian stayed in Section C. Evanna stayed in Section A.

Different classes. Different worlds.

But somehow, he was always there.

Sitting alone on the edge of the field during P.E., hoodie pulled low over his face.

Slouching at the back of the assembly hall, pretending not to listen.

Leaning against the hostel stair rail, flicking his lighter open and shut like a habit he couldn’t break.

And then there was the mask.

Always the mask.

Even when his bruises began to fade.

Evanna told herself it wasn’t her business.

But something about him got under her skin.

Maybe it was the silence.

Maybe it was how no one cared what happened to him, and he pretended he didn’t care either.

Until that night.

---

A Week Later – Study Hall, After Hours

Evanna was working late.

The room was mostly empty. Just her, a few juniors, and the sound of rain tapping against the windows.

She was so focused on her notes, she didn’t notice someone sitting at the back table.

Not until he spoke.

“You’re the only one who doesn’t stare like they know me.”

Evanna froze.

Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder.

Adrian.

No mask this time. Just him.

Messy black hair falling into his eyes, knuckles bruised and scabbed where he tapped a pen against the table.

“I don’t know you,” she said simply, turning back to her book.

He gave a soft snort. “Exactly.”

For a moment, there was only silence.

And then, footsteps.

She heard him stand, chair scraping quietly against the floor.

She thought he was leaving.

But then he was there.

Dropping into the seat across from her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You always this quiet?” he asked, chin propped on his hand.

Evanna blinked at him.

“I study,” she said. “That’s why I’m here.”

Adrian smirked. It was small. Barely there.

“Most girls here either stare or run.”

“I’m not most girls.”

His dark eyes flickered, something unreadable passing through them.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I figured.”

---

After that night, it changed.

Not all at once.

But it changed.

He started showing up in the study hall when she was there.

Sometimes sitting across from her.

Sometimes not speaking at all.

And sometimes, when she packed up to leave, he’d walk a few steps behind her.

Not close enough to talk.

But close enough she noticed.

It wasn’t friendship.

It wasn’t anything.

But it was something.

And Evanna wasn’t sure if she wanted to stop it.

Weeks passed.

Study hall. Quiet conversations. Long silences shared between them.

It became their thing.

Unspoken, undefined.

Evanna never asked about his past.

Adrian never pried into hers.

They just… existed together.

Like they were both waiting for something neither of them would admit.

And then, one afternoon, everything shifted.

---

Courtyard — Lunch Break

Evanna was sitting under the banyan tree, sketching something mindless in her notebook.

Maya and Aria were gossiping nearby, their voices blending into background noise.

Until Aria suddenly gasped. “Oh my God. Look.”

Evanna didn’t want to look.

But she did.

Adrian.

Standing by the water fountain.

And beside him—a girl. Shreya. From Section B.

Pretty, loud, and bold.

She was smiling at him like he was hers already.

“Shreya asked him out,” Maya whispered, eyes wide.

“And he said yes,” Aria added.

“He’s dating her now.”

Evanna felt… nothing.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

“Good for them,” she said, flipping another page in her notebook.

But her hand was stiff around the pen.

And for some reason, the lines she drew started to look like cracks.

---

Later That Day — Hostel Corridor

Evanna passed them on the stairs.

Adrian with Shreya.

Her hand looped through his arm. Laughing at something he’d said.

His mask was gone now.

But the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes?

That hadn’t changed.

He glanced up.

Caught Evanna’s gaze as she walked past.

For half a second, their eyes met.

He didn’t say anything.

Neither did she.

But something sharp twisted in her chest as she kept walking.

And for the first time since they’d met, she wondered if maybe…

Maybe he wasn’t hers to figure out after all.

Adrian’s POV

Later that night, Adrian sat on the rooftop alone.

Shreya had gone back to her dorm.

And he was left with the same emptiness he’d always had.

No matter how many girls smiled at him, no matter how many numbers he collected…

None of it mattered.

Except maybe when she was around.

Final Term Exams — A Turning Point

The hostel was quieter now.

Even the gossip had died down.

There was no time for drama when exams were staring them down like loaded guns.

Evanna thrived in this kind of pressure.

Head down, sleeves rolled up, textbooks spread like a battlefield in front of her.

She had a plan.

She always had a plan.

Adrian?

No one expected anything from him.

The teachers wrote him off as a lost cause.

His classmates barely noticed if he showed up for class.

Shreya had already stopped hanging around him, realizing he wasn’t boyfriend material once his charm wore thin.

But still…

He came to the study hall.

Not every night. But more often than Evanna expected.

And sometimes he just sat there, staring at the same page for an hour.

Sometimes he flicked his lighter open and shut, over and over, until the sound burrowed under her skin.

And sometimes…

He actually studied.

---

Two Days Before Finals — Study Hall

“You’re going to fail,” Evanna said bluntly, not looking up from her notes.

Adrian slouched across the table, arms folded, his book open but barely touched.

“Probably,” he agreed, watching her instead of the page.

She sighed.

“If you’re not even trying, why are you here?”

Adrian was quiet for a long moment.

Then, in a low voice, he said, “Because you’re here.”

Evanna’s pen stopped moving.

Her heartbeat didn’t.

But she didn’t respond.

Just flipped to the next page.

After a while, Adrian picked up his pen.

And he started writing.

---

Finals Week

The days blurred into nights.

Students shuffled between classes and exams like ghosts.

Evanna did what she always did:

Focused.

Prepared.

Survived.

Adrian… surprised everyone.

He showed up.

Every day.

Even for the subjects everyone knew he hated.

And when the results came back,

He passed.

Barely.

But he passed.

---

Courtyard — Evening After Results Are Posted

Adrian stood under the neem tree, looking up at the sky like it owed him something.

Evanna found him there without meaning to.

“You did it,” she said, coming to stand beside him.

He shrugged.

“It’s just numbers.”

“Still,” she said. “You passed.”

Adrian glanced at her then.

Something almost soft in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “Guess I did.”

And for the first time, Evanna wondered what he could be if he ever stopped holding himself back....