chapter 5

Daphne

The second class went smoother than the first—not that I expected chaos, but the moment I walked in, I felt it again.

Eyes.

Not just polite attention.

His eyes.

Lucian.

Second row near the window, headphones around his neck like always, notebook open but barely touched. He looked like he belonged in a moody, black-and-white music video—half detached, half intense. And when I swept my gaze across the room, just a quick glance…

He sat up straighter.

Like yesterday.

Like he didn’t realize how obvious he was being.

Of course, I didn’t acknowledge it. I couldn’t.

But I noticed.

I always noticed.

Today I kept things sharp—hair parted down the middle and pinned back in a sleek style. No strands out of place. A crisp beige blouse tucked into charcoal slacks. Everything about me said control. Poise. Boundaries. My heels barely made a sound on the floor, but when I walked past him, it was like every step echoed inside my own head.

Professional. Detached. That was the rule. The line.

But inside? Something simmered.

And I hated that I was letting it.

When class ended, I packed up quickly, trying not to rush. I grabbed my coat, spritzed on my usual perfume—soft jasmine and warmth, nothing overwhelming—and headed straight to the elevator.

My phone buzzed just as the doors slid shut.

Kalpo: Where tf r u, queen? I need tea and fries in equal measure.

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The café was small, hidden between two used bookstores with ivy crawling down its walls. A quiet place, tucked away from the rest of the world. I slid into the booth across from Kalpo, who didn’t even look up at first—just lazily scrolled on their tablet like they hadn’t just summoned me with dramatic urgency.

I unwrapped the silk tie from my ponytail and let my hair fall loose, exhaling as I finally allowed myself to relax. This was the one place I didn’t have to hold it all together.

Kalpo glanced up. And immediately smirked.

“What?” I asked.

They didn’t answer. Just sipped their drink in that over-the-top, knowing way.

“You’re being weird,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“No,” they replied, tilting their head. “You’re being weird. You’re glowing like you walked out of a perfume ad and locked eyes with your lab-coated soulmate.”

I gave an unamused scoff. “Gross.”

“Uh-huh. So who is he?”

“There’s no he,” I said quickly. Too quickly.

Kalpo leaned in like a detective smelling blood. “Daphne. Your text yesterday literally said—and I quote—‘He looked at me like I was stardust wrapped in equations.’ Who says that?”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

Kalpo laughed, loud and wicked. “Oh my god, it’s a student, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t say that,” I muttered.

“You didn’t have to.”

“It’s nothing. He’s a student. A teenager. It’s not even worth talking about.”

“But you noticed him,” they said gently.

I looked out the window.

“He notices me.”

And for some reason…

That mattered more than I wanted it to.

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