Why was he wrestling with this inexplicable surge of emotion?
Mars walked briskly toward the bus, leaving Summer at the campus gates—her figure frozen, confusion etched on her face. He muttered under his breath, "Mars, she's just a student." But the words rang hollow.
It had been an ordinary day. Until Summer. Until the universe decided to twist his fate.
When he glanced back, she was gone. The empty space where she had stood sent a shiver crawling up his spine.
Snap out of it. He gave himself a quick slap on the cheek, but the lingering unease refused to fade.
Plugging in his headphones, he let Paper Crown wash over him, the melancholy melody soothing yet stoking the fire of his thoughts. The bus rumbled on, and through the window he spotted her again—Summer, walking alone.
Her eyes weren't the warm, laughing ones she showed her friends. They were distant. Cold. Guarded.
The urge to leap off the bus and go to her clawed at him, but he clenched his fists and stayed seated. It wasn't his place. Not yet.
Still, he couldn't help but hope. One day, somehow, they might bridge that frozen distance.
At home, Mars sank into his couch. His first day as guest professor had drained him. A painting on the wall drew his gaze—a meadow scene, serene and still.
Until it wasn't.
The painted girl's hair rippled as if a breeze touched it. Her eyes turned. Met his.
Mars's breath caught. The warmth in her gaze was so familiar. So… dangerous.
"Ele—" His voice faltered. Sleep claimed him before he could finish the word.
A harsh ringtone yanked him awake. Disoriented, he fumbled for the phone.
"Good day, Mr. Mars. This is Ms. Nada."
"Ah. Ms. Nada."
Her voice, though weak, carried calm strength. Typhoid had her bedridden, yet her mind was still on her students.
She promised to send him their reports. Her tone softened when she mentioned one name in particular.
"Especially Summer."
Mars's chest tightened.
Moments later, the files arrived. He all but ran to his desk, eyes blazing with an eagerness he couldn't explain.
Scrolling… scanning… until finally—
Summer Rivera.
"Literature Queen," the notes called her. Talented, sharp, insatiably curious about history.
Mars frowned. Too much detail. Far more than any other student file. Why did everything about her—and those around her—feel… suspicious?
He leaned back, staring at her name glowing on the screen. Their meeting that morning replayed in his mind. The defiance in her eyes. The unspoken weight she carried.
They had only just met. Yet he felt the invisible thread tugging again, weaving something he wasn't ready to name.
The next day, Mars wandered the library alone, waiting for Summer. She was late. The air hung heavy with quiet.
His eyes roamed the shelves until one spine seemed to call to him.
The Greatest Cliff.
The gold-embossed letters gleamed against deep purple, foliage etched like veins across its cover.
Mars traced the title with reverence. "I can't explain how long I've been searching for you."
The spell shattered when the dean's voice broke the silence.
"Mars. There you are. May I have a word?"
Reluctantly, Mars closed the book and followed. But the weight of Summer's name—and the mystery that wrapped around her—followed him like a shadow.