The next morning felt almost normal.
Almost.
The campus buzzed with early chatter as students crossed between buildings.
Lira kept her head slightly lowered, silver hair falling over her shoulder as she stepped into the small school shop near the courtyard.
The bell above the door chimed softly.
Inside, the shelves were packed tightly—stationery, snacks, bottled drinks lined neatly in rows.
The hum of the refrigerator units filled the quiet space.
She walked toward the cooler section, sliding the glass door open.
Cold air brushed against her face.
She scanned the rows of fresh fruit drinks, eyes moving slowly across orange, mango, apple—
Then strawberry caught her attention.
Bright red label.
Simple. Sweet.
She reached for it.
And froze.
White eyes met red.
Through the narrow gap between shelves, on the other side—
Crimson.
Glowing faintly.
Watching her.
Her breath hitched.
The bottle slipped slightly in her grip before she tightened her hold around it.
He was standing behind the shelf.
Staring directly at her.
Not smiling.
Not moving.
Just looking.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
She ducked down abruptly, crouching behind the display, clutching the strawberry drink tightly to her chest.
What is he doing here?
This is a school.
Her heart raced.
Slowly—carefully—she rose back up.
She looked through the gap again.
Nothing.
No red eyes.
No white hair.
Just neatly stacked juice boxes.
She stepped out from the aisle quickly, scanning the shop.
Students moved normally. A girl laughed near the counter. Someone argued about coins.
No pale figure.
No crimson gaze.
"Strange…" she whispered.
Had she imagined it?
She paid for the drink and left the shop, trying to steady her breathing.
It's just your imagination.
It has to be.
Back in class, she entered the room as she always did—quiet, unnoticed, head bowed slightly.
She settled into her seat.
Joy immediately turned toward her.
"You got it?" Joy asked eagerly.
Lira slid the strawberry drink across the desk.
"Oh, thank you!" Joy beamed, already peeling the straw wrapper. "You're the best."
Lira nodded faintly.
Joy happily poked the straw in and took a sip, completely content.
But Lira wasn't listening anymore.
Her mind replayed it.
Those eyes.
That same shade of crimson she had seen under the moonlight.
Could it be—
No.
This was school.
Bright. Crowded. Safe.
Not a forest.
Not night.
She shook her head slightly, pushing the thought away.
It's impossible.
Still—
For the rest of the morning—
She felt like she was being watched.
----
The cafeteria was loud as ever.
Trays clattered. Chairs scraped. Conversations overlapped into a constant wave of noise. Sunlight poured in through the tall windows, glinting off silverware and glass bottles.
Lira sat across from Joy, quietly unwrapping her food.
Joy, however, was anything but quiet.
"Your logic makes absolutely no sense," she said sharply.
Behind her, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place, sat Kieran Valez.
Kieran had a permanent rebel look—dark, slightly messy hair falling into his eyes, sleeves rolled up carelessly, and a small bandage across the bridge of his nose from a recent "accident" no one fully believed.
His smirk was constant, like he was always seconds away from saying something he shouldn't.
He twirled a pen between his fingers lazily.
"It makes perfect sense," he replied. "You just don't like being wrong."
Joy turned fully in her seat, her short bob swinging perfectly with the motion. "I don't get things wrong."
Kieran raised an eyebrow. "Statistically impossible."
She pushed her glasses up. "Statistically, you fail half your quizzes."
He grinned. "Ouch. Low blow."
"You started it."
"I corrected you."
"You embarrassed yourself."
"Debatable."
Lira blinked quietly between them.
This happened almost every lunch.
Kieran liked provoking reactions.
Joy liked winning arguments.
It was a dangerous combination.
Kieran suddenly leaned sideways to peek around Joy—directly at Lira.
"Hey, Silver," he drawled. "You're quiet today. Plotting world domination?"
Joy immediately elbowed him without even looking. "Don't call her that."
"What? It's accurate."
"She has a name."
"I know her name."
"Then use it."
Kieran smirked, unfazed. "Relax. I'm just teasing."
"You tease too much," Joy shot back.
"And you talk too much."
"At least I have something intelligent to say."
He placed a hand over his heart dramatically. "That hurt."
"It was meant to."
Lira couldn't stop the small smile that crept onto her face.
Kieran noticed.
"There it is," he said triumphantly. "She smiles. I knew she could."
Joy spun back toward him. "You don't get credit for that."
"I absolutely do."
"You absolutely don't."
He leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand. "Admit it. You'd miss me if I stopped talking."
Joy scoffed. "Peace would finally return."
"Wow. Harsh."
"You deserve it."
He grinned again, eyes flickering with mischief.
Despite herself, Lira felt the tension ease.
Joy was right.
Kieran teased too much.
But somehow, he never crossed the line too far.
Joy adjusted her glasses once more. "Finish your food before I academically destroy you again."
Kieran saluted lazily. "Yes, professor."
Lira looked down at her tray, the faintest warmth settling in her chest.
For a moment—
It felt normal.
Almost peaceful.
Almost.
The cafeteria noise blurred into the background.
Behind them, Kieran burst into laughter.
"See? I told you," he said to someone.
Joy turned in her seat. "What now—"
She tapped Lira's shoulder. "Turn around."
Lira turned slowly.
And froze.
Crimson.
Calm. Steady. Unmistakable.
Her white-silver eyes widened slightly.
He stood just behind Kieran's chair.
A black bucket hat shadowed most of his white hair. A dark nose mask covered the lower half of his face. But his eyes—
Those red, glowing eyes—
Were completely visible.
"You…" she whispered before she could stop herself.
Kieran blinked. "You know each other?"
Lira couldn't answer.
The vampire—if that's what he was—simply looked at her. No smile this time. No smirk. Just quiet observation.
Kieran leaned back casually. "This is the new kid. Transferred this week."
He jerked a thumb toward him.
"Name's Lucien."
Lira swallowed.
Lucien.
Of course.
She forced a small, polite smile despite the nervousness tightening her chest. "Hi."
Lucien didn't speak.
He only lifted one hand slightly in acknowledgment.
A silent greeting.
Kieran laughed. "Yeah, he doesn't talk. At all. Haven't heard a single word. That's why he's been so quiet."
Joy leaned closer, squinting at Lucien curiously.
"I like your eyes," she mouthed dramatically.
Lucien's red gaze shifted to her.
He gave a small nod.
Joy beamed.
Kieran immediately reached up and turned Joy's head forward with one hand. "Stop adopting mysterious strangers."
"I'm not adopting him," Joy protested.
"You look like you are."
Lira slowly turned back around in her seat.
Her heartbeat wouldn't slow.
Lucien.
At school.
In daylight.
Acting like nothing happened.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her fork.
He didn't expose her.
Didn't react.
Didn't even hint at recognition.
As if last night had been nothing more than a shared secret carried by the dark.
And somehow—
That made it worse.
=========
The boys' changing room smelled like soap, sweat, and fresh varnish from the court.
Lockers slammed shut. Sneakers squeaked against tile.
Caelen pulled his jersey over his head, the fabric settling perfectly against his shoulders. Black and silver.
Ronan stood a few lockers away, tying the laces of his basketball shoes.
"I saw the physics notes," Caelen said casually, grabbing his wristband. "Thanks."
Ronan shrugged. "It's okay."
"You didn't have to."
"I know."
Caelen glanced at him briefly. There was something steady about Ronan — quiet, dependable.
Outside, the gym roared with energy. Their school always went hard for basketball season. Banners hung from the ceiling. Drums echoed from the bleachers.
Caelen rolled his shoulders once.
He had always been the best player on the court.
But lately—
He wasn't sure if he still stood alone up there.
In the bleachers, Lira sat neatly, hands placed on her lap.
Her silver hair was tied into a ponytail, a few soft strands falling around her face.
Beside her, Joy bounced in her seat like she had springs under her.
"I hope Caelen wins! If the Night Falcons lose again I swear I'm starting a petition," Joy declared dramatically.
"The Iron Vipers are overrated," Keiran muttered as he dropped into the seat beside them.
Joy turned immediately. "Excuse me? Overrated? They won last season!"
"They got lucky."
"They trained."
"They panicked."
"They strategized!"
Lira's lips curved faintly at their bickering.
But her mind wasn't there.
Not fully.
The whistle blew sharply.
The gym erupted.
The players ran out onto the court.
Joy jumped to her feet. "Let's go, Night Falcons!"
Lira clapped politely, smiling.
Caelen stepped forward with his team — confident, controlled, unreadable.
Across the court, the opposing team gathered.
Ronan bent down, tightening his laces one last time.
He stood.
Looked up.
And his eyes met hers.
Just for a second.
Lira froze.
Her breath caught — barely noticeable, but there.
Something in her chest fluttered unexpectedly.
Not fast like before.
Not nervous.
Just—
Soft.
Ronan held the look for half a heartbeat longer.
Then someone called his name, and he looked away.
The game began.
Joy was yelling again.
Keiran was arguing about strategy.
The ball hit the floor with a sharp bounce—
And then—
She felt it.
A presence.
Right beside her.
Slowly, Lira turned her head.
Lucien sat there.
Casual.
One arm resting along the back of the bench. A drink in his hand.
"How did you even—"
He took a sip.
Nodded once in greeting.
"That's it?" she whispered. "You're just going to appear next to me in public?"
He glanced at the court. "I walked."
"You did not walk."
He didn't answer.
Joy finally noticed him.
"Oh! Hi!" she beamed brightly.
Lucien looked at her.
Nodded once.
Joy leaned slightly closer to Lira, whispering loudly, "He's kind of handsome."
Lucien's eyes flickered toward her.
He heard that.
Of course he did.
Lira coughed. "Joy."
"What? I'm just saying."
Lucien took another calm sip of his drink.
Unbothered.
Across the court—
Caelen stole the ball smoothly, moving like lightning.
The crowd roared.
But Lira barely heard it.
Because she could feel Lucien's warmth beside her again.
That strange, electric heat.
And across the court—
Ronan glanced up once more.
This time—
He didn't just see her.
He saw who was sitting beside her.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Lira noticed.
And suddenly—
The game didn't feel like the only competition happening in the gym.