Chapter 2 The First Glance

The message haunted her all night.

You looked lost today.

I like that about you.

No name. No emoji. Just words soaked in confidence-too familiar for a stranger, too unsettling for comfort. Elena lay still, staring at the screen in the dark, her blanket pooled around her waist, her heart beating against her ribs like it wanted out.

She didn't reply. But she also didn't delete it.

The unknown number sat at the top of her inbox like a flame daring her to touch it.

By morning, the haze hadn't lifted.

The city was still unfamiliar, the house still cold, and Mrs. Greene still eerily quiet. Elena sat across from her at the dining table, poking at scrambled eggs she hadn't asked for.

"You didn't sleep," her aunt said without looking up from her newspaper.

Elena blinked. "I'm fine."

Mrs. Greene glanced up then, her eyes sharp, knowing. "Fine is a lie women use when they're about to make poor decisions."

Elena said nothing.

At Zenith University, the sun was too bright. It made everything and everyone look sharper, prettier, and more intimidating. She spotted Ava by the open fountain near the quad. Blonde curls, red sunglasses, combat boots-impossible to miss.

"You look like hell," Ava said by way of greeting.

"I feel like it."

"Nightmares or hot thoughts?"

Elena smirked despite herself. "Neither."

"Lies. Was it him?"

"I don't know who 'him' is."

"Girl, please."

Ava started walking toward their lecture building, not even pretending to drop the topic.

"Let me guess. Tall, dark, hoodie-wearing psychological thriller in human form? You saw Zayne again?"

Elena glanced away. "Briefly."

"And he talked to you?"

"Yes."

"And you're still standing?"

Elena frowned. "Why does everyone act like he's some kind of demon?"

Ava stopped and turned, serious now. "Because he is. He's not just toxic. He's the kind of guy who doesn't come with warning signs-just ruins. Ask any girl who's touched him."

"Maybe they just weren't strong enough."

Ava laughed bitterly. "It's not about strength. It's about survival."

Elena didn't want to admit it, but she was already checking the shadows for him. Her steps slowed near the library, her eyes flicked toward the art building. Zayne was nowhere. Just that strange, invisible current that said he'd been here recently.

When she saw him, finally, it was like flipping a switch.

Library. Second floor. Back corner.

He sat alone with a book, sleeves pushed up, one knee resting on the table like he didn't care about rules. The late morning light cut through the windows, casting him in soft gold. And yet, there was nothing soft about him.

He didn't look up.

Not until she walked past him the second time.

"You always walk like you're carrying secrets," he said, voice low, smooth, like velvet over a knife.

Elena paused mid-step. Turned.

He hadn't even looked up from his page.

"You always talk to girls without looking at them?"

He smirked, eyes lifting. "Only the ones who try too hard to look away."

Her breath caught. Again.

"What are you reading?" she asked, stepping toward him.

He held the book up without a word. Control and the Collapse of Intimacy.

Of course.

"You read psych?"

"I read damage," he replied. "It's more honest."

There was a pause. One beat. Two.

Then he looked at her fully.

Eyes like sin. A stare that didn't just look-it peeled.

"You're new. But not innocent."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You don't dress like you want attention, but you wait for it. You watch people, then pretend you don't care what they see."

Elena's throat tightened. "You think you've figured me out already?"

Zayne leaned forward, elbows on knees. "Not yet. But I know a girl who's been broken before, when I see one."

She hated how true it felt.

And how much she wanted to stay.

Later, in art class, she sat beside Ava but couldn't focus. Zayne's words kept echoing-each one carefully placed like he was writing a script into her bones.

"Earth to Elena?" Ava whispered during roll call.

"Hmm?"

"Were you just smiling to yourself?"

"No."

Ava narrowed her eyes. "If you fall for him, I'm not holding your hand while you cry."

"I'm not falling."

"You are. And that's the problem."

That evening, Mrs. Greene's silence felt heavier. Elena avoided her by escaping to her room, locking the door behind her, even though no one ever came in.

She sat on her bed, sketchpad open. Her pencil moved without her thinking-slow curves, sharp lines, unfinished shadows.

The shape of a jaw.

Messy curls.

Dark, watching eyes.

It was him. Again.

She tore out the page and threw it on the floor.

And that's when her phone lit up.

Unknown Number: You looked back today.

Elena's pulse quickened.

Unknown Number: That means I get closer tomorrow.

She stared at the message, heart thumping so loudly she could hear it.

This time, she typed.

Me: What do you want?

Zayne: Everything they've never touched.

She didn't sleep that night.

Not because she was afraid.

But because some part of her didn't want to miss him if he came.