i Friday evening rolled around like every other dull Friday in my first year, and I found myself sprawled on my narrow dorm bed, staring at the ceiling as if waiting for it to give me life advice. I'd just finished the book I was reading, devoured it in a day. The flat had fallen into that strange, heavy silence that always made my thoughts louder. No friends around, no plans, no distractions. Just me, my roommate and that restless kind of boredom that hums beneath your skin.
I exhaled and let my fingers drum against my thigh.
"You know what?" I said loudly, "Tonight, I'm going to smoke weed. What's the worst that could happen?"
My roommate, Zeta looked up from where she was sorting through a messy pile of makeup brushes. Her hair was wrapped, her nails glossy, and she always seemed like she knew things about this campus that I hadn't even heard of.
"You sure you want to do this tonight?" she asked, eyeing me with amusement. "I can take you to Bron's place. He's got a crew. It's always chill over there."
It took half a second for the idea to spark excitement inside me. I didn't know Bron personally, but I knew of him. His apartment wasn't exactly a party spot, more like a quiet hub where people passed through, smoked, talked, and disappeared again. A place where stories started. A place where the night could become something unexpected.
"Let's go," I said before I could overthink it.
We walked across the edge of the Town. River-Court was the kind of town that pulsed quietly beneath the surface. slow in the mornings, humming with life by late afternoon. A place where giant, ancient trees arched over long winding roads, their leaves forming green tunnels that filtered the sunlight into soft, dappled patterns.
Students filled every corner of the town: laughing on shaded walkways, gathered under wide stone arches, drifting between hostels and lecture halls that had stood for decades. The campus stretched like its own world, clusters of old buildings woven together by footpaths, food stalls, and buzzing conversations. At night, River-Court shifted: the soft glow of streetlights lit the streets, music from distant hostels carried on the breeze, and small apartments like Bron's became the beating heart of everything wild and unplanned.
It wasn't flashy. It wasn't modern. But it was alive.
Alive in a way that made you feel like anything could happen after sunset.
Bron's building was wedged between a convenience shop and the gym. The staircase was dim and narrow. Music pulsed faintly from the second floor.
Inside, the apartment looked lived-in but welcoming. A scattering of mismatched cushions, dim amber lights, and the faint smell of incense lingering in the air. Demon Flow by Santi thumped softly from a speaker in the corner of the room. The kind of music that fills the room without overwhelming the conversation.
There were five people already there: two guys lounging on the couch, a girl rolling weed on the floor, and Bron leaning against the counter laughing at a joke someone had just cracked. They all glanced up when Zeta and I entered.
Bron grinned as he approached. He had that easy charisma that made you feel like you'd known him longer than a minute.
"You're Zeta's roommate?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yeah."
"You sound different," he added, tilting his head slightly. "Where'd you live before coming to River-Court?"
I shrugged lightly. "Somewhere else. Not too far, but far enough."
He laughed. "Mystery girl. Okay, I hear you. Welcome."
Zeta quickly drifted towards someone she knew, leaving me standing near the edge of the room. I didn't mind. I wasn't the type to force myself into conversations. I floated where I fit.
Bron handed me a cup of something cold. "Relax. Tonight's chill."
And honestly, it was. I eased into the atmosphere, answering the occasional questions, offering small smiles, listening more than talking. Nobody pressed me, nobody stared too hard. It felt safe. Familiar, even though I hadn't been in a place like this before.
What I didn't know was that the night was waiting for a shift — a sharp, sudden one.
The door opened.
The room didn't fall silent, but something in the air shifted, as if a wind had blown in. Conversations dipped. Heads turned. Even I looked up, and that was when I saw him. He stepped inside with a casual confidence that didn't feel forced at all. A black hoodie hung off his broad shoulders, and he carried a small bag in one hand, the kind that looked like it held trouble. Or at least enough weed to make the night interesting. About 30 grams.
I didn't know his name yet, but I felt it. Felt him.
He froze for a moment when his eyes landed on me. Not a full stop, but a hitch in his movement, as if he had walked into the room expecting the same people as always but instead found something he didn't know he'd been looking for.
"Oh," he said quietly, almost under his breath. "Who's the new girl?"
Bron laughed. "Zeta's roommate. First time here."
Karros nodded slowly, still staring. Not rudely, just intensely, like he was trying to figure out why I looked familiar even though we had never met. Like he was searching for something in my face.
I looked away first, pretending to adjust my cup.
He walked farther in, dropped the bag on the counter, and greeted everyone with quick, easy gestures before coming straight toward where I sat.
"Hello, nice to meet you." he said, eyes lingering on me with that same unreadable focus.
I swallowed, unsure what to say. He smelled faintly of soap and smoke, something warm and clean mixing with the scent of the room.
He sank onto the couch beside me, not too close, but close enough that his presence pressed against my awareness.
I quickly blurted out, "What's your name?"
"Karros."
The name hit me in a way I wasn't prepared for. It was sharp, smooth, and strangely heavy, like it carried more weight than a simple introduction should. Karros. It felt carved and deliberate, almost too striking for someone I had just met. The syllables echoed in my chest with a quiet warmth that unsettled me. I found myself repeating it silently, letting it roll through my mind, and the sound of it made something low in my stomach tighten. His name should not have meant anything, yet it did. Too much, too quickly.
"What's yours?" he asked.
"Zuri," I responded, hoping he couldn't hear the shift in my breath.
"Don't worry," he added lightly. "I'll make sure you have a good time."
My heart gave a stutter. Tiny but noticeable.
I tucked my hair behind my ear. "You don't even know me."
He smiled. "Not yet."
And then he asked questions. Real ones. Not the empty kind people ask in passing. He asked about what I liked to read, why I'd chosen River-Court University. Why and how I ended up here tonight. He listened, really listened — leaning in slightly when I spoke, eyes flicking to my mouth when I hesitated, then back to my eyes as if he was memorizing every small detail.
Bron noticed, nudging and teasing him, "Yeah, get it bro," but his teasing didn't break his attention.
It felt surreal. Like the room had dimmed around us somehow.
Sometimes I teased him back, surprised by my own boldness. A joke here, a challenge there. Every time I pushed, he pushed back softly but with intention.
He made the air feel warmer.
He made time feel different.
Hours blurred.
At one point I got up to get a drink, and when I looked back across the room, his eyes were already on me. Watching. Not possessively just with a quiet, steady interest that made my pulse jump.
He raised an eyebrow. "What?" he called out in a soft teasing tone.
I shook my head. "Nothing. Just observing." I said with a cheeky smile.
"You're too clever to hide what you feel," he said.
The words hit deeper than he knew.
I looked away before he could read too much. But even from across the room, I felt his attention like a hand resting lightly on my shoulder. Toward the end of the night, people began drifting out one by one. The music softened. The laughter faded. And still, every time I turned, he was there. Not hovering, but close.
Somewhere between the first laugh and the fiftieth stolen glance, I realized something unsettling.
I didn't want to leave.
And even more terrifying?
I wanted to know what would happen if the night didn't end here.
I wanted the strange spark between us to ignite into something real.
Something thrilling.
Something that, deep down, I already knew wouldn't let me go easily.
And standing there in Bron's dimly lit apartment, staring at the boy who looked at me like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us. I knew I wanted to be the reason he lost control.