The dorm was too quiet. Arielle thought maybe staying in would help her breathe, but the silence only made her loneliness louder. Her roommate had begged her to come to the party—"It's the best way to meet people!"—but Arielle wasn't built for crowded rooms and fake laughter.
Still, she was tired of feeling like a ghost. Tired of being the invisible girl no one noticed. Maybe tonight could be different.
By the time she reached the house at the edge of campus, music was already spilling onto the street, bass vibrating through the ground. Groups of students lingered on the porch, drinks in hand, voices raised in laughter. Arielle hesitated at the door, fingers tightening on the strap of her bag.
She could still turn back.
She almost did.
But the push of someone behind her forced her inside.
The noise swallowed her whole—booming music, bodies pressed together, strobe lights flashing. The air reeked of alcohol, sweat, and something stronger. Arielle froze near the entrance, wide-eyed, clutching her bag as if it were armor.
She didn't belong here.
"Relax."
Her heart stuttered at the voice. Familiar. Low. Smooth, threaded with an edge that made her skin prickle.
She turned.
And there he was.
Adrian.
Leaning casually against the wall, a glass in his hand, shadows clinging to him even under the pulsing lights. His dark eyes found her instantly, pinning her in place.
Her breath caught.
She shouldn't be surprised, but she was. He had been everywhere since she arrived on campus—in hallways, in classrooms, on the edges of crowds. She had told herself it was coincidence. That she was imagining things.
But deep down, she knew.
It was never coincidence.
"You're late," Adrian said. His voice cut through the noise, steady, calm, like the chaos around them didn't exist. His shirt was undone at the collar, his hair slightly mussed, but his gaze—his gaze was sharp, deliberate, dangerous.
"I—" Arielle tried, but her voice faltered against the music. "I wasn't planning to—"
"Doesn't matter." He set his glass aside, his lips curving—not into a smile, but something darker. "You're here now."
Her pulse hammered in her throat. She shifted, trying to step away, but the crowd pressed too close.
Across the room, someone shouted Adrian's name. A group of guys waved him over, girls whispering behind their cups, their eyes lingering on him.
He didn't move. Didn't look at them.
His attention never wavered from Arielle.
Her stomach twisted. Why her? Out of all the girls in this party, why did it feel like his world narrowed only to her?
"Adrian…" she whispered, uncertain.
He moved closer. Slowly. Unhurried. The crowd seemed to bend around him, people stepping aside without realizing it. He stopped only inches from her, the heat of his presence suffocating.
"Stay with me," he said. Not a suggestion. Not even a request. A command.
Her fingers trembled against her bag. She wanted to say no. To push past him, run into the night, escape the pull he had on her.
But she didn't move. Couldn't.
Because his eyes—dark, unblinking—held her captive.
The music roared, laughter rang out, glasses clinked, but Arielle didn't hear any of it.
All she heard was the low timbre of Adrian's voice.
All she felt was the dangerous certainty that once she stepped into his world, she'd never leave the same.
And what terrified her most—
was how much a part of her wanted to stay.