Avianna's Point of View
I was barely awake when my phone buzzed against the nightstand, its vibration loud in the quiet morning. I groaned, reaching out with half-closed eyes, squinting at the screen.
Calix: Good morning. Coffee?
My heart jumped awake even if my body wasn't. I rubbed my eyes, staring at the message like maybe I was still dreaming.
Before I could even type a reply, another text appeared.
Calix: I'll pick you up. Ten minutes.
I shot up so fast I nearly strangled myself with my blanket. Ten minutes?! My apartment was a battlefield of clothes and textbooks from last night, and I definitely did not look like someone ready for a surprise coffee date.
By the time I finally stepped outside, still catching my breath and tugging at the hem of my blouse, his car was already waiting by the curb. Sleek, black, and a little too polished for this sleepy neighborhood. The window rolled down and there he was, Calix, in a crisp white polo with the sleeves rolled just enough to show strong forearms. His hair looked effortlessly neat, his whole presence unfairly fresh compared to my half-panicked rush.
"You're late," he said smoothly, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed amusement.
"You didn't even give me time to get ready properly," I shot back, sliding into the passenger seat and trying not to sound breathless.
His eyes flicked to me, brief but piercing, before returning to the road. "I think you look fine."
The comment was casual, almost offhand, but it made my pulse stumble all the same.
---
He drove us to a café tucked away on a quieter street I had never explored before. Morning sunlight streamed through tall glass windows, painting the interior gold. There was the gentle hum of acoustic music, the aroma of freshly ground beans, and soft chatter that filled the space without feeling crowded.
"I like this place," I murmured, letting my gaze wander over the shelves of books stacked along the wall and the potted plants basking in the sunlight.
"Thought you'd prefer something different from your usual spot," he said, pulling out a chair for me. His tone was calm, but there was a trace of something deliberate, thoughtful. "Besides, your workmate isn't here to tease you."
I narrowed my eyes at him playfully. "So you do know she'd never let me live this down if she saw us together."
He smirked, silent but not denying it.
Over coffee, our conversation flowed easily, a back-and-forth that felt natural, like we'd done this a dozen times before. When I tried to insist on paying for my drink, he raised one brow and leaned back in his chair.
"Next time," he said firmly, the words lingering between us with unspoken promise.
"How many next times are you planning to use on me? That sounds like a scam," I teased, narrowing my eyes. "I told you, I only agreed to come if I was the one paying."
"Next time, for real," he promised, the faint grin on his face making me wonder if he even meant it.
When the drinks arrived, I caught him watching me as I took my first sip. His eyes held a quiet intensity, like he was studying something far beyond just my expression.
"What?" I asked self-consciously, lowering my cup.
"Nothing," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Just wondering how someone can look so serious about coffee."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop my own smile from forming.
---
On the drive back, I thought the moment would simply end with a polite goodbye. But when he stopped at the campus gate, he leaned slightly closer, enough that I could feel the subtle warmth radiating from him.
"Have a good day, Yanna." His voice was low, almost intimate, the sound of it threading into my chest.
For a heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe. My throat tightened as I forced a quick nod, muttered a barely audible, "You too," and slipped out of the car before my cheeks betrayed me.
But the image of his faint smile lingered in my mind, trailing me as I walked through the morning rush of students.
And then, of course, trouble found me immediately.
Near the campus gate, Jules was waiting with a large cup of iced coffee in hand, eyes sharp and already suspicious. He spotted me instantly, and more importantly, he spotted the sleek black car pulling away behind me.
"Ohhh…" He dragged the sound dramatically, eyes narrowing in mischief as a grin spread across his face. "So that's why you're glowing this morning. Who was that, huh?"
I tightened my grip on my bag and tried to walk past him, but Jules fell into step beside me, relentless. "It's not what you think," I muttered quickly.
"Not what I think?" His hand flew to his chest in mock shock. "Then explain why a mysterious driver, in a car that looks like it came straight out of Fast and Furious, just dropped you off like it's some scene from a drama."
"Jules, please," I groaned, lengthening my stride, but he easily matched me.
"You've been hiding things from me," he accused, though his grin betrayed the teasing. "Spill. Coffee date? Breakfast? Secret boyfriend?"
I opened my mouth, fumbling for an answer, but before I could, another voice cut through the air.
"Hey."
We both turned.
Caius stood a few feet away, calm as always, but his expression was sharper today. His eyes flicked briefly toward the direction Calix's car had disappeared, then back to me. There was something unreadable in his gaze, steady and a little too knowing.
"You're early," I said quickly, hoping to ease the sudden tension clawing at my chest.
Caius' eyes lingered on mine for a moment longer before he replied, voice even, "Wanted to walk with you."
Jules perked up instantly, his grin widening. "Wow, Avi. First a mystery man in a fancy car, then Caius here, looking like your personal bodyguard. Love triangle vibes much?"
"Shut up, Jules," I muttered, cheeks heating as I pulled my bag higher on my shoulder.
But even as we walked toward the building, with Jules teasing at every step, I couldn't shake the weight of Caius beside me, his silence, his steady presence.
And underneath all the noise, one thought pressed tightly in my chest.
Why did Caius suddenly feel… protective?
---
Classes felt longer than usual, each lecture blurring together while my mind replayed the morning with Calix. His faint smile. His voice. The way he'd leaned just slightly closer when he wished me a good day. No matter how many notes I scribbled or how hard I tried to focus, my brain was stuck on a loop.
By the time lunch break arrived, I was half hoping my friends would distract me from the chaos inside my head. Unfortunately, I should have known better.
We were gathered at our usual table in the cafeteria. Sophie was digging happily into a pile of fries, Jared was scrolling through his phone as if it were glued to his hand, and Jules… Jules already had that dangerous spark in his eyes.
"So…" he began slowly, dragging the sound out as he rested his chin on his palm like a detective about to interrogate a suspect. "Care to explain why a certain mysterious guy with a sleek, Fast-and-Furious-level car dropped you off this morning?"
I nearly choked on my drink. "Jules, seriously—"
"Don't even try to deny it," he cut me off, leaning across the table with a gleam in his eyes. "I saw it, Avianna. Your face was redder than a ripe tomato. You, my dear friend, were blushing."
Sophie froze mid-bite, eyes going wide before she gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like this was the betrayal of the century. "Hold up—YOU have a mystery guy?!"
I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. "It's nothing, okay? He's the one I told you about when we baked the cupcakes. It's just coffee. That's all it was."
"Coffee date," Jared muttered without even glancing up from his phone, his lips curving into a knowing smirk.
"See?!" Jules practically shouted, smacking the table for emphasis. "Even Jared agrees, and he barely listens to half our conversations. This is solid evidence!"
The table erupted in laughter, Sophie squealing, Jules grinning like he'd won a court case, Jared smirking in his quiet way. The only one who didn't join in was Caius.
He set his fork down with a little too much force, the clink loud enough to catch my attention. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat, cutting straight through the noise.
"Not funny." His eyes found mine, steady and serious. "You shouldn't be riding with guys you barely know."
The laughter faded. My pride prickled hot under my skin as I slowly lowered my hands. "Excuse me? I can handle myself, Caius."
"Really?" His tone was calm, but sharp enough to sting. His gaze never wavered. "So what now, you just trust anyone who offers you coffee?"
The teasing mood at the table vanished, leaving a silence that felt heavy, sharp-edged. But my pride burned hotter than the awkward quiet.
"He's not just anyone," I shot back, my voice firm. "And for your information, I didn't ask him to drive me. He offered."
"That makes it worse," Caius countered smoothly, leaning back in his chair but keeping his eyes locked on me. His jaw flexed. "Guys don't do things like that for free, Avianna. You should know that by now."
My teeth clenched, heat rising in my chest. "Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence. Glad to know you think I'm so gullible."
His expression tightened, frustration flashing for just a second. "That's not what I'm saying." His voice was lower now, almost restrained, but it didn't take the sting out of his words.
The air at the table was thick enough to choke on. Sophie quickly cleared her throat, forcing a smile as she pushed the basket of fries toward us like an offering. "Uh—maybe let's not start a war over coffee, yeah?" She shot me a sympathetic look, clearly sensing the storm brewing.
Jules, of course, had zero interest in diffusing tension. He grinned, waving a fry between us like a referee about to declare a winner. "Okay, but hear me out, I still say this is a love story in the making. Mystery guy plus morning coffee plus Avi blushing equals romance arc. And I, for one, am absolutely here for it."
I shot him my deadliest glare, but it only seemed to fuel him further. Jared finally looked up from his phone, his smirk widening as he added, "She did come in glowing this morning. Just saying."
"Can we not?" I groaned, covering my face again, wishing I could sink into the floor.
But I could still feel Caius across from me, silent now, his fork stabbing into his food with unnecessary force. He wasn't laughing. He wasn't teasing. His presence felt heavier than it should have, like his quiet disapproval was pressing down on me.
And the worst part? Beneath all my irritation, beneath the frustration at how controlling he sounded, at how he looked at me like I couldn't make my own choices, there was still a part of me that noticed. A part of me that felt the weight of his gaze not just as judgment, but as something else.
And no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I hated that a part of me couldn't stop thinking about it.
---
By the time my last class ended, the sun was already dipping low, painting the sky in shades of tangerine and rose. I was halfway back to the dorm when my phone buzzed.
Manager: Can you cover tonight? 6 to 12. On-call. Thanks.
I exhaled slowly, slinging my bag higher on my shoulder. So much for a quiet evening. Still… extra pay was extra pay.
The bar was already alive when I arrived, neon lights spilling onto the street, bass vibrating through the pavement as though the ground itself pulsed with the music. I slipped through the back entrance, weaving through crates of bottles and the smell of stale smoke, and headed straight for the dressing room.
My school uniform disappeared into my bag, replaced by the sharp black corset top and leather skirt that hugged a little tighter than I liked. I tugged the straps into place, pulled on my tights, and let my hair fall loose around my shoulders. By the time I stepped out, Avianna-the-student had vanished. In her place stood Avianna-the-night-shift barmaid.
The transformation was immediate.
The atmosphere swallowed me whole—strobing lights, laughter, glasses clinking, and a constant rhythm that settled deep in my bones. I wove behind the counter, falling into the routine as if it were muscle memory.
Pour. Mix. Smile. Repeat.
"Long day?" James, my manager, part-time bartender raised an eyebrow as I grabbed a tray of cocktails.
"You have no idea," I muttered, balancing the drinks with practiced ease as I headed toward a crowded booth.
Hours blurred together in a haze of music and neon, but no matter how many glasses I poured or fake smiles I wore, my mind wasn't here. It was somewhere else entirely.
It was with him.
Calix.
The way he'd leaned close that morning at the café. The faint curve of his smirk. The warmth threaded with danger in his voice. Every detail replayed endlessly in my mind like a song I couldn't turn off.
"Avianna!"
I startled at the sharp snap of fingers in front of me. James. His expression was tight, irritated.
"You've been spacing out all night," he warned. "Careful, or you'll spill on a customer. Last thing I need is complaints."
"Sorry," I muttered, heat creeping into my cheeks. I grabbed the next order, trying to bury the distraction, bury him.
The bar was crowded, but manageable. The kind of night where time moved both fast and slow. And though I told myself at least three times that I wasn't looking for Calix, my eyes still betrayed me scanning the room, searching unconsciously for that familiar shadow in the chaos.
But it wasn't him I found.
It was Caius.
He leaned against the far end of the bar, the clean white of his shirt standing out against the dark blur of bodies and lights. He didn't belong here, he was too calm, too sharp-edged in a place built for chaos. Yet his presence was undeniable. He didn't need to move to be noticed. People simply felt him.
My step faltered when our eyes met. He tilted his head slightly, like he'd been waiting for me to notice. Waiting for me, period.
I crossed the floor and stopped in front of him, trying to mask the unease curling in my stomach. "What are you doing here?"
His answer came easily, quiet enough for only me to hear. "Making sure you get home safe."
I frowned, setting down the empty tray in my hands. "You don't need to babysit me, Caius. I've been doing this job for months."
His lips pressed into a thin line. "And yet, I still don't like you being here."
I rolled my eyes, grabbing a shaker just to give my hands something to do. "Well, lucky for you, you don't get a vote."
"You shouldn't even be working here, Avi. This place—"
"Pays my bills," I cut in sharply. My voice was firmer than I intended, but the words came out anyway. "Not all of us get to live in mansions, Caius."
He let out a short laugh, humorless, almost bitter. "Always stubborn." His gaze, however, softened. Just slightly. Enough to sting. "Does he know?"
I froze, my grip tightening on the shaker. "Does who know what?"
"That you work here." His eyes locked onto mine, steady and unflinching.
For a beat, I couldn't breathe. I looked away quickly, shoving the shaker aside and reaching for my bag instead. My voice was clipped when I finally answered. "It's none of his business."
"Maybe not," Caius said quietly. His voice wasn't sharp now—it was heavy, almost careful. "But you're making it his."
The words lingered in the air like smoke, sinking into me deeper than I wanted them to. I hated how they stung. Hated even more that some small, traitorous part of me knew he was right.
I swallowed hard, ignoring the way my chest tightened. "I'm done," I muttered, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
Caius straightened, his eyes still fixed on me. "Let's go."
I hesitated, my pride screaming at me to push past him, to walk home alone just to prove I didn't need him. But something in his gaze, firm, unyielding, yet quietly protective, pulled me in.
Eventually, I gave in.
And when I stepped out into the cool night air beside him, I couldn't shake the weight of his words.
Maybe not. But you're making it his.