The late afternoon sun bathed the campus in a golden glow. Lyra's footsteps echoed across the cobblestone courtyard as she clutched her notebook tighter than usual. She was supposed to be heading to the library, but her thoughts were scattered—images of Kael, his presence in the lecture hall, the silent warning in his gaze.
She didn't notice how fast she was walking until Talia caught up with her.
"Slow down, Lyra," Talia said, linking her arm with hers. "You're practically vibrating. Spill it."
Lyra shook her head, forcing herself to smile. "Nothing… I'm fine."
Talia raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Fine, she says. Uh-huh. You've been writing more than usual. And don't even try to hide the glow. Something's happening with him, isn't it?"
Lyra's chest warmed. She tried to deflect, opening her notebook. "It's just… letters."
Talia snorted. "Uh-huh. Sure. Letters. You mean to Kael Draven, the untouchable playboy, yes?"
Lyra's pen hovered, and she flushed. "I… write. That's all."
They reached the library, and Lyra slipped into the quiet stacks, trying to find her usual corner. But of course, Kael was already there, leaning against a shelf, arms crossed, eyes scanning the books as if searching for something—or someone.
When he noticed her, there was a pause. A flicker crossed his features—something small, fleeting, human.
He didn't smile. He didn't speak immediately. But there it was—a subtle crease between his brows, the faintest slackening of his jaw, a vulnerability he rarely showed.
Lyra froze, notebook pressed against her chest.
He's… human? she thought. Just for a second?
Kael finally spoke, his voice low, careful, almost softer than usual.
"You… you're diligent," he said. "Most people wouldn't bother reading the older texts. They're… tedious."
Lyra blinked. "I… like details," she admitted. "They tell more than the stories themselves."
He nodded slowly, his eyes lingering on her—not the teasing, confident gaze of before, but something quieter. Something unguarded.
For a heartbeat, she saw him—not the untouchable Kael Draven of gossip and whispers, but a person who had survived, who carried something heavy in his chest.
And she felt it.
Talia, aware of the tension, nudged Lyra subtly. "Ignore the brooding gaze," she whispered. "Breathe."
Lyra exhaled slowly, trying to calm the sudden heat of awareness in her chest.
Cassian lingered nearby, pretending to browse books but clearly keeping an eye on them. Kael's jaw tightened imperceptibly at the younger man's presence. Protective, restrained, and faintly dangerous—yet that brief vulnerability still lingered behind his eyes, like a crack in a perfectly polished wall.
Later, Lyra slipped into her usual corner, notebook open. She began to write, letting words flow freely:
Dear Stranger,
Today… I saw him differently. Not the confident, teasing Kael who flirts effortlessly with half the campus. Not the untouchable, dangerous aura that surrounds him. But… something else. Vulnerable. Fragile, just for a moment. He spoke, really spoke, about the texts we both study. And there was a pause, a crack in the armor he never shows.
It unnerved me, honestly. And yet… it draws me in. Why does seeing a hint of weakness make him more captivating? More… human?
Cassian lingered too close, but he doesn't matter. Kael notices. He notices everything. The smallest shifts, the smallest glances. And for the first time, I feel seen—not in whispers, not in gossip, not in shadows—but truly noticed. And that terrifies me.
Lyra.
Kael, meanwhile, had moved to the library balcony, leaning lightly against the railing. He replayed the conversation, the brief vulnerability he had allowed.
I shouldn't have let her see that. She shouldn't have caught it, he told himself. But he couldn't deny the truth: letting her see it felt… easier than he expected. Safer in a way. Dangerous, yes—but he didn't pull back completely.
He noticed the subtle ways she observed him, the way her pen moved across the page, the tension in her posture when Cassian dared to linger. Protective instincts rose, but tempered by that same vulnerability—reminding him that she wasn't just a fleeting distraction.
The courtyard outside began to glow with the last rays of sunlight. Lyra closed her notebook, sliding it into her bag. Talia nudged her with a grin.
"You're glowing again. Don't deny it. You know he saw your reaction."
Lyra groaned softly. "I… maybe. But it's nothing."
"Nothing?" Talia teased. "You're practically vibrating every time he looks your way. And that moment today… you saw something in him. Something he doesn't let anyone see. That's huge."
Lyra's stomach twisted. "I… I don't know what to think."
Talia laughed softly. "Good. That's exactly how it should feel. Keep writing. Keep observing. Just… don't get carried away."
Lyra smiled faintly, the warmth of her friend grounding her. She glanced out the window at Kael, standing by the fountain with his group, back straight, aura impenetrable again—but that brief moment of humanity had been etched into her mind.
She knew one thing: the cracks in Kael's armor made him no less dangerous. But they made him… undeniably human.
And for Lyra Vale, who had sworn to remain invisible, it was more thrilling—and terrifying—than she could have imagined.