The first time she saw him .....

🌸SNOW'S POV🌸

I was seventeen ............ when I first saw Ian Castle.

It was summer..... the golden kind. The kind that makes everything feel like a dream. I had just moved back into town with my mother after three years abroad. I remembered the Castle house from my childhood....it sat across from ours, with its ivy-covered walls and rusted black gate. It was the same as before nothing changes...

IAN CASTLE

He was standing in the driveway, barefoot, shirtless, a guitar slung over his shoulder, laughing with two girls I didn’t recognize him..

NO ... NO...

I shouldn’t have looked.

But I did.

Tall. Tan. Messy black hair that looked like it had been finger-combed out of bed. A cigarette tucked between two fingers. Tattoos dancing along his collarbone like secrets written in ink. He is so handsome.. Why can't I take my eyes off of him..

And that smile.

That damn smile.

That smile can make anyone insane..

It wasn’t just charming. It was dangerous. Like he knew how beautiful he was—and how much it would hurt to fall for him.

But still I fall for him ....

I turned away quickly, cheeks burning. But that night, I stood at the window for hours…hours and hours.....

Waiting for him to look back....

But he is with someone else who is not me but still I want him only to love me

He wasn’t mine.I knew that from the start

But I will never give up

❄️KEVIN'S POV❄️

I noticed her before Ian did.

SNOW MY SNOW The girl who used to trail behind me with scraped knees and sparkly notebooks. The same girl who used to steal my fries and beat up anyone who made fun of my glasses.

Finally...

She was back. Different. Prettier. Quieter.

At my mother’s barbecue, she stood near the lemonade stand, wearing a soft yellow dress and a braid that ran down her shoulder. Her eyes kept darting toward Ian, who had arrived late.. ...of course.. with two girls from his college.

Like always he never cared about others and I hate the way she looks at him ... He is my brother but still I hate him I hate him so much.

I could see it already........the way her breath caught when Ian brushed past her without a glance. The way her lips parted like she wanted to say something but didn’t.

My chest tightened.

Because I knew how this would go.

Everyone fell for Ian.

WHY??WHY??

Always him not me ...

I hated watching it.

Because I loved her.

And I hate that I HATE THAT SO MUCH

... INTRO...

SNOW:- The beautiful and cheerful girl obsessed with IAN

IAN;- A Playboy, only like the attention of snow and brother of Kevin

KEVIN:-sweet but hides lots of things inside... Love snow

it's the Beginning with their early dynamics. Let’s dive into it..

IAN'S POV

She bumped into me near the water cooler in the hallway, her shoulder grazing mine lightly .. like a whisper.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, her cheeks turning that familiar shade of red. Her eyes were wide, doe-like. Surprised. Embarrassed.

Cute.

I cracked open the soda can I had just snagged from the vending machine, taking a slow sip before replying. “Hey.”

She blinked at me. Silence.

“You’re Snow, right?” I asked, even though I knew damn well who she was. “Kevin’s little stalker from childhood?”

Her lips parted just slightly, a flash of hurt flickering across her face before she collected herself. “We were best friends.”

I grinned, tilting my head. “Sure. That’s what he says too.”

She didn’t answer, just looked at me .. the kind of look I knew well. That wide-eyed stare girls gave me before they did something stupid. Like fall in love. Or worse… think I’d catch them.

I let my eyes trail over her. Deliberate. Slow. Just enough to make her squirm.

She did.

But she didn’t walk away.

Interesting.

“You look... different now,” I said, finally letting the silence stretch between us before cutting through it.

Her lashes lowered for a second. “So do you.”

There it was again .. that shy, worshipping glance. I’d seen it before. The kind that hinted she knew exactly who I was now, and still… couldn’t help herself.

I stepped a little closer, just enough to tilt the tension, just enough to let her feel it.

“You still following Kevin around?” I asked casually, though my eyes didn’t leave her face.

She stiffened. “I don’t follow him.”

“Right,” I drawled. “You just always happen to be where he is. Like now.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit. “He’s not here.”

I laughed under my breath. “Then you’re just lucky, huh?”

“I didn’t know you’d be here either,” she shot back, but there was no fire in it. Just nerves. Her hands twisted around the strap of her bag, knuckles pale.

I stepped even closer, lowering my voice. “Relax. I’m just messing with you.”

She tried to smile, awkward and unsure. “Yeah… okay.”

I leaned against the cooler, watching her for a second. Something about her didn’t add up. She wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t fawning, not exactly. But she wasn’t backing off either. She was rooted there, nervous but curious.

Maybe even a little defiant.

“Stick around,” I said, voice dipping lower. “I’ll show you how different I’ve become.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

I tilted my head, enjoying the fluster in her tone. “Just saying. You look like you could use a little danger in your life.”

“I don’t..”

“Sure you do,” I interrupted. “Girls like you always say that. But you keep staring like you’re waiting for something to happen.”

She looked away. “You’re full of yourself.”

I laughed. “Not full. Just be aware.”

She gave a tiny shake of her head, but I could see it ..the corner of her lips twitching. Trying not to smile.

She turned to walk away.

“Snow,” I called.

She paused.

“Next time you bump into me… don’t apologize.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Why?”

“Because,” I said, smiling lazily, “I never mind when pretty girls touch me.”

She didn’t say anything.

Just walked away — cheeks burning, pace quick.

But not too quick.

Not quick enough to say she wasn’t hoping I’d follow.

And maybe I would.

Just not yet.

I watched her go, sipping my soda, feeling that familiar burn of interest flare in my chest.

Kevin’s childhood best friend, huh?

Let’s see

SNOW'S POV

He started texting me after that night .

Not often. Not consistently.

But enough.

Just… enough to make my chest tighten every time his name flashed on my screen.

Ian:

“That soda you spilled on me? Still sticky.”

Me:

“Buy a new shirt then.”

Ian:

“Or you could come over and lick it off.”

I rolled my eyes. But I replied.

I always replied.

Then came the memes. A mix of dark humor and flirty gifs. Followed by voice notes late at night. His voice rough, lazy, slightly drunk.

And sometimes....he’d just send a song. No caption. No explanation.

I’d put on my headphones, lie in the dark, and wonder if he listened to the same one thinking of me.

Then the midnight visits started.

The first time, I thought I was dreaming. A soft tap tap at my window. I froze, heart racing.

I peeked through the curtain…

And there he was.

Ian.

In that leather jacket, his helmet hanging from one hand, eyes wild and beautiful.

He grinned, held up a finger to his lips. “Shhh. Your mom still hates me, right?”

I slid the window open slowly. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned close, voice low and intoxicating. “Wanna go for a drive?”

I didn’t even grab my shoes. I just climbed out the window barefoot and followed him.

I always went.

Even when he smelled like some other girl’s perfume. When lip gloss smudges stained his collar.

Even when I knew......I knew......I wasn’t the only one.

But with me…

He was different.

................

We didn’t always talk in the car.

Sometimes we just sat in silence, the engine purring, his hand resting on the gearshift… close, so close to mine.

The first time we parked by the cliffs, he handed me a chocolate bar and said, “Don’t say I never give you anything.”

I laughed. “Wow. So romantic.”

He raised a brow. “You don’t like chocolate?”

“I do. But I like flowers more.”

“Too messy,” he said. “They die fast.”

He looked at me then, really looked. “You don’t seem like the flower type anyway.”

“What type am I then?”

He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he hadn’t solved yet.

“The type that stays even when she knows she shouldn’t.”

I flinched.

He noticed. Of course he did.

“Snow,” he said suddenly, softer now. “You think I don’t see it? The way you look at me?”

“I don’t look at you in any way,” I lied, my voice was too sharp, too quick.

He laughed, low and throaty. “You look at me like I’m something to be saved.”

My throat tightened. “Maybe I just like driving at night.”

“Liar.”

He turned away, resting his arm against the wheel, staring out at the darkness ahead.

“You want to fix me,” he whispered. “They all do. But you..” He paused. “You’re just better at pretending you don’t.”

“Ian…”

He glanced at me. “You think I don’t know I’m fucked up?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.

He reached over then, gently taking my hand. His thumb brushed over the ring I always wore....my mom’s old one.

And just like that… he let me in.

Into his silence. Into the quiet cracks he never showed anyone else.

Another night, he said:

“You know I don’t believe in love, right?”

I nodded. “I know.”

He looked at me like he was waiting for me to argue. When I didn’t, he smirked.

“You’re weird.”

“You’re worse.”

He laughed, genuine and unguarded, and I felt it in my bones.

I thought maybe… just maybe…

I’d be the one to fix him.

But even then, deep down—I knew.

Boys like Ian didn’t get fixed.

They only break the ones who try.

And yet… I stayed. Because for a few fleeting moments, in the middle of the night, under stars and shadows, he was mine.

And that was enough.