Chapter 5 — The First Encounter
Daphne's POV
I tapped my pen against my notebook for what felt like the hundredth time. The lecture hall was warm, the professor's voice was a steady drone, and the clock at the front seemed to mock me by ticking slower than usual.
Beside me, Ella-Mai scribbled in the margins of her notes, doodling flowers and stars like she was in a whole different class. She leaned closer, whispering, "If he says 'in conclusion' one more time, I'm walking out."
I stifled a laugh, shaking my head. "You'd never. You're too much of a nerd."
"Maybe," she grinned, "but even nerds have limits."
The professor finally dismissed us, and the entire room exhaled relief. Bags zipped, chairs scraped, and Ella-Mai looped her arm through mine as we walked out.
"Coffee?" she asked.
"Please," I sighed. "I need something to wake me up."
We split ways at the café doors — she had a study group, and I just wanted caffeine and a quiet corner. But instead of solitude, I spotted a familiar wave. Ethan.
He was already at a booth, grinning like he'd been waiting for me. And he wasn't alone.
The guy across from him looked older somehow, even if he probably wasn't. He had this calm energy that stood out against Ethan's restless movements. Broad shoulders, sharp jaw, eyes that seemed like they didn't miss much.
"This is Noah," Ethan said as I slid into the booth. "We went to high school together. He's at Ridgeway now."
Noah glanced up, and when our eyes met, something flickered in his expression. Not recognition — we'd never met — but something else. Like he'd just found something he hadn't realized he was looking for.
"Daphne," I said, offering a small smile.
"I've heard about you," he said, and it wasn't the words that caught me, but the way he said them. Measured. Direct. Like he wanted me to know he was paying attention.
Ethan started talking again, some story about their high school days, but part of me had already drifted.
Because suddenly, coffee didn't feel like the thing waking me .
Noah's pov
I wasn't even supposed to be there. Ethan had texted me last minute — "Come kill time with me, I'll buy your coffee." I hadn't seen him in months, and honestly, I needed the break from Ridgeway. So I showed up.We were halfway through trading stories when she walked in.
Daphne.
I didn't know her name then, but I knew the way Ethan's face lit up the second he saw her. He waved her over like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She slid into the booth across from me, her bag slipping off her shoulder, hair catching the light from the café window. She looked tired — the kind of tired that came from endless lectures — but when she smiled politely, something about it felt unshakably alive.
"This is Daphne," Ethan said, like it was just another introduction. But it didn't feel that way to me.
She turned toward me, and for a second, her eyes held mine. Long enough for me to notice the small details — the faint crease between her brows, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear like she was half-shy, half-determined not to be.
"I've heard about you," I said, because it was true. Ethan had mentioned her more than once, usually in the casual tone he used for people who mattered more than he let on. But even before she spoke, I could tell words wouldn't do her justice.
The three of us talked, mostly Ethan filling the space. But I kept watching her — not in the obvious way, just… listening more closely when she spoke, memorizing the sound of her laugh.
And when she excused herself later, I found myself thinking something I hadn't in a long time:
I wanted to see her again.
After Daphne left, the booth felt quieter. Ethan kept talking, but my mind wasn't on the story anymore.
I kept replaying the way she looked at me. Not long, not deliberate, but long enough. Long enough to make me curious.
I'd known Ethan for years — long enough to read him without trying. The way he'd said her name, the way his voice lifted just slightly when he introduced us, told me she wasn't just some roommate. She meant something to him.
But what?
He didn't look at her the way I just had. At least not openly. He laughed with her, teased her, like it was effortless. But there was a flicker in his expression every time she spoke — a quick spark, almost protective, almost… hopeful.
I leaned back, sipping my coffee, hiding my thoughts.
I shouldn't have noticed her like that. She was Ethan's friend. His Daphne. The girl he'd mentioned in casual passing, the one who was "easy to live with" and "cool to hang around."
And yet, from the first moment she sat down, I knew she wasn't just background noise in his life. She wasn't going to be in mine, either.
Something about her drew me in — the way her tired smile still lit up her whole face, the quiet strength in her eyes, like she carried more than she said out loud.
Ethan caught me staring once, and I forced myself to look away. But the truth was already written in me:
I wanted to know her.
Even if I wasn't supposed to.