Sawyer:
I didn't sleep.
The fire smell was still in my clothes when I got back to the house, smoke and whiskey and the ghost of her perfume—something soft that didn't belong anywhere near the kind of night I'd had.
I told myself it didn't matter. That she didn't.
But then I'd close my eyes and see her by the river, fingers skimming the water like she was washing something off her skin.
And I couldn't stop thinking—what the hell was she running from?
Hunter was already passed out on the couch when I got in, his phone buzzing every few minutes with texts from girls I didn't bother reading. I sat on the floor instead, elbows on my knees, trying to forget the way Iris had looked at me. Not scared. Just… curious.
Curious is dangerous.
Curious gets people hurt.
I lit a cigarette and watched the smoke curl toward the ceiling, wondering why I'd followed her in the first place. It wasn't like me. I didn't do quiet things. I didn't follow girls to rivers or stop myself from touching them.
But something about her felt like a line I shouldn't cross.
And the worst part?
I already wanted to By the time Hunter's alarm blared, I was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed I barely used. He groaned, rolled over, and tossed a pillow at me.
"Bro, you look like hell."
"Thanks," I muttered.
He sat up, hair sticking in every direction, still half-asleep but grinning. "Don't tell me you're still thinking about the bonfire."
I didn't answer.
"Come on, man. You disappeared last night—left me with a bunch of freshmen who think tequila's a personality."
"I needed air."
Hunter squinted at me. "Air or a girl?"
That made my jaw tighten. I didn't like being predictable. Especially not to him.
He smirked. "So it was her. Iris, right? Lena's new roommate."
I lit another cigarette and looked out the window. The smoke curled against the morning light. "You should tell your sister to pick better friends."
Hunter laughed. "You think she's trouble?"
"I think she's soft," I said. "Soft gets you hurt."
But even as I said it, I could still see her—bare feet in the grass, eyes catching the firelight, the way her lips parted like she was about to say something but didn't.
Hunter grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "Whatever you say, man. Just don't scare her off. Lena likes her."
When he left, the house went quiet again.
I leaned back, closed my eyes, and tried to pretend I didn't still hear the river in my head—or her voice whispering something I couldn't quite make out.
Iris:
I woke to sunlight and the faint sound of laughter from outside—too bright, too normal for how I felt.
For a second, I didn't remember where I was. Then the dorm ceiling came into focus, the soft hum of the air conditioner, and Lena's music playing low from her phone across the room. Blair Ridge. College. A new start.
I should've felt free.
But all I could think about was the river when I was with Sawyer.
That sharp crack behind me, like the world holding its breath. I'd turned, heart racing, and there he was. The firelight behind him, the dark pressed close, his eyes finding mine like he'd been there all along.
I told myself it was nothing. That it didn't mean anything. But now, lying here in the soft morning light, I could still feel the echo of it.
I sat up slowly, brushing hair from my face. The faint scent of smoke clung to my skin, to my shirt, like the night hadn't actually ended.
"You're quiet this morning," Lena said, tying her hair up in a loose bun. She was already dressed, already glowing, like she woke up made for the daylight.
"Didn't sleep much," I said.
"Too much fun?"
"Something like that."
She grinned. "We should grab breakfast before class. Maybe Ivy will meet us."
The mention of Ivy made my chest twist. Ivy hadn't texted since last night. She'd been off lately—smiling but never all the way there. And when I'd asked, she'd just said she was tired.
But the truth was, I was the tired one.
Tired of pretending everything back home didn't exist.
Tired of pretending my father's voice didn't still echo when I closed my eyes.
As I got dressed, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My eyes looked softer than I wanted them to. I didn't look like the girl who'd left home in the middle of the night, or the one who'd promised herself she'd never need anyone again.
I looked like a girl who still felt something she shouldn't.
Because every time I blinked, I saw Sawyer's face in the firelight—his eyes dark, unreadable, like he saw too much of me already.
And maybe that's what scared me most.
The cafeteria buzzed with too much noise for a Monday morning. Plates clattered, coffee machines hissed, and somewhere across the room someone laughed too loudly for this early in the day.
Lena was already talking to someone at a table near the window—Hunter, her brother, with that same easy grin she had. He lifted a hand when he saw me, motioning me over.
"Morning, roomie," Lena said as I slid into the seat beside her. "Sleep okay?"
"More or less," I said, still trying to ignore the ache in my chest from last night's memories.
Hunter leaned back in his chair, studying me for a moment before smiling. "You made it to Blair Ridge, survived your first party, and didn't get lost in the woods. You're doing better than half the freshmen here."
I laughed, quietly. "Barely."
"Hunter," Lena said, rolling her eyes, "don't scare her off. She's still new."
He raised a hand in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just making conversation."
That's when someone new dropped into the seat across from me. Tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair still damp from a shower, a textbook tucked under one arm. His smile was easy but not careless—like he thought before he spoke.
"Sorry I'm late," he said to Hunter, then looked at me. "Didn't mean to interrupt."
"Oh, you're fine," Lena said. "This is Iris, my roommate. Iris, this is Cole Asher—one of Hunter's friends from the frat."
Cole turned his gaze fully on me, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. His eyes were warm, curious, like he was trying to figure me out without making it obvious.
"Nice to meet you," he said, reaching across the table.
I hesitated, then shook his hand. His skin was warm, steady, grounding in a way I hadn't expected.
"Nice to meet you too."
Hunter smirked. "Cole's the responsible one. Don't let him fool you, though—he can be just as much trouble as the rest of us."
Cole shot him a look. "Ignore him," he said, smiling back at me. "He just hates that I pull better grades."
I couldn't help but laugh, and it felt… nice. Normal, even.
For the first time since I'd left home, I didn't feel like I was bracing for something.
Still, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flicker of movement near the door—Sawyer walking in, scanning the room with that detached look he wore like armor. His gaze swept past the tables, past everyone, until it landed on ours.
And when his eyes met mine, my stomach dropped.
Cole was still talking. Lena was laughing. But all I could feel was the weight of Sawyer's stare—like he knew something about me no one else did.
He looked away first. But it was already too late.
Something in me had already lit again.
Hey—Sawyer!" Hunter called out, waving him over.
My heart stuttered.
Of course. They were all friends. Of course they were.
Sawyer hesitated at the door for a moment before walking over, every step slow and deliberate, like he hadn't already caught me staring. He looked different in daylight—less wild, more dangerous in the quiet way he carried himself.
"Didn't think you'd make it to breakfast," Hunter said. "You're usually allergic to mornings."
Sawyer gave him a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Didn't sleep much."
Cole leaned back, grinning. "You? Or the girl you were with last night?"
The table laughed, except me.
Sawyer's eyes flicked to mine for a fraction of a second, something sharp and unreadable passing through them.
"No girl," he said simply, sliding into the empty seat beside Hunter. "Just couldn't sleep."
He didn't look at me again, but I could feel the awareness between us like static—every word, every laugh, somehow connected back to that night by the river.
Hunter, oblivious, turned the conversation toward me. "Iris is thinking about applying for a job at The Grind-house—the coffee shop off campus. You guys should show her around, right?"
Cole smiled at me. "That's my spot. I can take you—show you the good side of Blair Ridge. You'll love it."
I smiled back before I could stop myself. "That'd be nice."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sawyer's jaw tighten, his thumb drumming against the table once before he pushed his chair back.
"I've got class," he said, voice flat.
Hunter blinked. "You don't have class till noon."
"Then I'm early."
He stood, grabbed his backpack, and walked away without looking back.
Cole watched Sawyer walk out, shaking his head. "Guess someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."
Hunter laughed it off, Lena rolled her eyes, and the moment slipped back into easy conversation—at least for them.
But for me, it didn't.
Because even after Sawyer was gone, I could still feel him there—like his shadow was still pressed against mine, like the air itself remembered him.
I tried to listen to whatever Cole was saying, nodding at all the right times, pretending my heart wasn't still tripping over itself. But it was no use. My gaze drifted to the window, where I caught a glimpse of Sawyer outside—lighting a cigarette, jaw tight, eyes fixed on something I couldn't see.
He looked like he was trying to burn something out of himself.
And for a moment, I wondered if it was me.
He turned, as if he felt me watching. Our eyes met through the glass—brief, electric, unforgiving—
and then he dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his boot before walking away.
Just like that.
And I knew, somehow, that whatever had started by that river…
wasn't over.
Not even close.