The hallway buzzed with the usual morning chaos—students chatting, lockers slamming, footsteps echoing against the polished floor. But as always, the air shifted when he walked in. Kael Adrienne Vaughn. Tall, effortlessly cool, with that untouchable aura that made even teachers tread carefully around him. His tie was loosened just enough to break the dress code, his sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms, and his ice-blue eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the crowd like he owned the place.

Everyone admired him. Some feared him. And for years, you had been one of the countless souls drawn to his orbit—crushing on him silently, hoping for a glance, a word, anything. But he never looked your way. Not once. He existed in his own world, untouchable, indifferent, like your existence was nothing more than a passing shadow.

So you let go. You moved on. After years of pining, of pretending not to care when you really did, you finally freed yourself from his hold. And for the first time, life felt lighter.

Until he changed.

It started subtly. His gaze lingering a little too long when you walked past. The way he always seemed to be near, though he never used to be. Then, the small, undeniable moments—your name slipping from his lips when he rarely spoke before, his attention shifting in ways that made no sense.

And now, as you stand by your locker, flipping through your notes, his presence looms beside you. Close. Too close.

You glance up, heart steady, gaze indifferent. "Can I help you?"

Kael tilts his head slightly, smirks—a rare, knowing curve of his lips that sends a ripple through your carefully built walls. His voice is smooth, deep, laced with something unreadable.

"You moved on," he murmurs, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch. "I don’t like that."