The classroom smelled like fresh coffee and desperation.
Selene walked in, late but unapologetic, a stack of printed notes in one hand and a drink in the other. Her ponytail was crooked. Her eyeliner, smug. She hadn't been back long, but she was ready to reclaim her territory—starting with this room.
Advanced Data Systems: the battlefield of every senior project, where reputations rose or cracked under pressure. And there he was.
Lucien Vale.
Ash brown hair, tousled like sleep hadn't dared touch it.
Grey eyes— Jacob grey , but colder, clearer. Like fog behind glass.
He was typing with one hand, sipping black coffee with the other, dressed like a minimalist villain who coded at midnight under candlelight.
Her stomach turned.
She'd heard about him.
He'd risen fast while she was gone. Top scores. Group leader. Unbothered, unreadable. Apparently, the guy didn't even have social media.
Of course he'd end up on her team.
Selene dropped her bag in the chair across from him like it owed her money.
"Wow. You really waited until I was nearly on my deathbed to try and take over everything? Classy."
Lucien looked up slowly. Calmly. Like she was just another data set.
"I didn't choose the groups," he said evenly.
She leaned in. Smile sharp.
"Sure. You didn't choose to be grouped with the conveniently missing girl while you got to build the entire model solo. No feedback. No critique. No one telling you your elegant little formulas don't work in real-world chaos."
He tilted his head, like observing a lab specimen.
"Your name was still on the sheet. I assumed you were not dead.
Even if I strongly suspected you would be."
She blinked.
Then smirked.
"Surprise, motherfucker. Ghosts haunt the living."
No reaction. Just a slight narrowing of his eyes.
"If you're back to contribute, then contribute. Otherwise—don't waste my time."
Selene slid into the chair across from him.
"Let's go, grayscale."
Lucien Vale didn't flinch.
Insults, theatrics—he'd seen it all. He was raised on formality and code. He didn't rise for drama. He didn't bend .
But Selene Ashford?
She moved like a storm in boots.
And she typed like she was carving through marble.
He watched her crack open her laptop. Her screen lit up.
Lines of his algorithm. Annotated. Highlighted. Already edited.
Not just catching up.
She was rewriting it.
Efficient. Blunt. Brutal.
Terrifying.
She didn't even look at him. Just moved through his code like it was a maze she'd already solved once in her head.
Lucien blinked.
No one moved like that. Not even his mentors.
Most people talked about being good.
Selene was .
And he didn't like the way that realization made his stomach feel.
Unsteady. A glitch in his emotional firewall.
She's unpredictable. Too fast. Too sharp.
Too... something.
Lucien watched her tap her fingers against the desk while compiling a revision model. She was humming under her breath—barely.
A song he didn't recognize.
Then she glanced up.
Just once.
Their eyes met. Green on grey.
And she smirked.
Lucien looked away.
You're going to be a problem, he thought.
AndI'm going to make the mistake of solving you
------
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