Chapter 1

University of Edinburgh – Autumn Semester

Aaron’s Pov

It was the first day of lectures when I saw her. Not just saw—witnessed her like an anomaly in my curated world of control and chaos. She was walking across the courtyard with a book tucked under her arm, eyes on the cobbled path like the world around she didn’t exist. That day, everything else blurred into the background. Even the air felt different—like it waited with bated breath, whispering there, that's her.

I didn’t know her name yet. But I knew one thing—I needed to.

Campus Café

Author’s Pov

Aami Das sipped her coffee, distractedly watching the students pass by the window. Her best friend Mira Patel nudged her with a sly grin.

Mira: “Okay, tell me you saw him. The Aaron Blackwell. That man is sin in sneakers.”

Aami: “Isn’t he the one who got into a fight during the basketball finals? And the same guy who ghosted a professor’s daughter?”

Mira: “Details, details! He’s complicated, not evil. Also, rich. Like castles-in-the-Highlands rich. I read on some forum that his family owns a vineyard, a tech company, and a falcon.”

Aami: “I don’t need this drama. I came here to study, not fall into a dark YA novel.”

Mira: “Too late. He looked at you.”

That Look

Aaron’s POV

I caught her watching me today. Just a flicker, a half-second glance before she pulled her attention back to her friend. But that was enough. I’ve been patient, watching from the periphery, gathering pieces of her life—her classes, her habits, the way she doodles in her notebook when she’s bored.

I don’t care that she’s avoiding me. That just makes the chase more… thrilling. She doesn't know it yet, but she’s already Mine.

The Old College Library – Late Afternoon

Aaron’s POV

The sky outside is a watercolor of soft golds and cool blues, filtering through the arched windows of the library. Aami was seated alone at one of the long oak tables, hunched over a pile of notes and highlighted journal articles. There’s a focused little wrinkle between her brows that I want to smooth out with my thumb.

Aami’s best friend, Mira Patel, is nowhere in sight—probably off swooning over her latest crush or cornering some poor French exchange student into a spontaneous picnic date.

I take that as my chance.

I approach, confidence bleeding from every step, my messenger bag slung over one shoulder like I’m about to audition for the role of “charming rogue with a dark secret.”

Me :(that’s me, trying to be cool): “Hey… so… do you believe in love at first citation or should I walk by with another reference?”

She doesn’t even look up.

Her pen scratches across the page.

Silence.

Then finally… She looks up.

Those eyes. God, those eyes.

Aami(cool as ice): “…Excuse me?”

Me:(internally panicking but smiling like a cocky idiot): “I, uh—I mean… like, bibliographic chemistry… no, I mean—like citation—like source—”

She tilted her head slightly, expression unreadable, like she is trying to decide if I’ve just suffered a mild stroke or if this is some obscure joke.

Aami: “Are you okay?”

Me: (awkward chuckle, running a hand through my hair): “Yeah, totally. Just… thought you might need help. Or a laugh. Or… both.”

Aami: “Well, I’m studying. And no, I don’t need help. Or confusion.”

She returned to her paper. Dismissed.

I stand there, wounded ego bleeding out slowly, then turn on my heel and leave before I combust entirely from secondhand embarrassment.

As I walk away, I hear she mutter under her breath:

Aami: “Playboys and pickup lines. Seriously. This campus is cursed.”

And just like that, she has shoved me into the same box as every guy who’s ever tried to flirt their way into a girl's attention.

But I’m not every guy.

I’m Aaron Blackwell.

And this? This is far from over.

University of Edinburgh – Indoor Basketball Court, Evening

The court is alive with the sound of sneakers squeaking and balls bouncing, but my game? Completely off today.

I fumble a pass.

Miss a shot.

Trip over my own feet.

Liam—my best friend since we were kids and now co-captain of the team—catches the rebound I just missed and calls out:

Liam (grinning like a menace):“You good, Romeo? Or are you still thinking about your library Shakespearean crash-and-burn?”

The others burst out laughing.

Kai, our flashy point guard with a permanent smirk: “Man got academically humbled. That girl didn’t even blink.”

Theo, the quiet, sharp-shooter type who rarely speaks but when he does, it's brutal: “I think she actually looked through him. Like he was air.”

I groan and hurl the ball at the wall, running a hand through my hair, breath coming in sharp.

Me (muttering):“Alright, alright. I get it. It was bad.”

Liam:“Nah, bro. It wasn’t just bad. It was tragic. I haven’t seen you stammer since Coach caught you sneaking whisky into freshman camp.”

Kai (mocking voice): “Do you believe in love at first citation…”

He does a dramatic faint, catching himself on Theo’s shoulder.

Me:“I swear to God, I will bench all of you.”

Theo (deadpan):“Too bad you can’t bench your own feelings.”

Cue another round of cackling from the entire court.

I grab the ball again, dribble furiously, then dunk hard enough to make the rim rattle. Frustration burns in my chest—not just from the teasing, but because they’re right.

I can’t stop thinking about her, Aami Das.

That calm, collected look she gave me like I was some... random guy with a crush. Which, okay, maybe I was in that moment.

But she doesn't know me.

Not yet.

Me (to himself, low):“She thinks I’m just another flirt. That’s the problem.”

Liam slings an arm over my shoulder, still grinning.

Liam:“So what’s the plan then, Mr. Heartthrob? Gonna write her a thesis on why you deserve a second chance?”

Me (smirking finally):“Nope. I’m gonna show her.”

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