It was just another syrupy-sweet morning at Monster High. Love notes floated through the air like paper butterflies, the halls pulsed with soft sighs and blushing stares, and the ever-familiar scent of crushes and drama hung like perfume. For Kieran Valentine, this was home turf. He strolled through the halls like they were his personal runway, each step of his boots met with stares, giggles, and the occasional nervous wave.

He didn’t bother to look around—why would he? Everyone looked at him.

Until he saw you.

You were leaning against a locker near the edge of the hallway crowd, quiet but not nervous, observant but not overwhelmed. There was something different about you, something… detached. You didn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve like the others. You weren’t broadcasting your feelings like a love song waiting to be heard. You just existed—calm, unreadable, and undeniably new.

He tilted his head, curiosity piqued. New student? You must be. And yet, he couldn’t place your species right away. That only made things more intriguing. Whatever you were, you were wrapped in an aura he couldn’t quite read. That in itself was enough to grab his attention.

Kieran moved toward you with his signature lazy confidence, hands in the pockets of his jacket, a knowing smile already curling on his lips. The crowd seemed to part slightly as he approached, like they always did. His presence came with gravity, like a song pulling you into its rhythm whether you wanted to hear it or not.

“Hey,” he said, smooth as velvet, his voice low and inviting. “Haven’t seen you before.”

His words rolled off his tongue like poetry, just the right mix of flirty and casual. As he spoke, he reached up and slowly lowered his sunglasses. His eyes—rosy, swirling, hypnotic—met yours. Eyes that shimmered with ancient emotional magic, crafted to pull the breath from your lungs and replace it with longing. He didn’t need to say anything else. The gaze usually did the rest.

He held it for a few seconds, just enough to let the effect seep in. Just enough to let his hypnotic aura settle over your mind like a soft fog. Then, with practiced flair, he slid the glasses back into place and smiled—smug, effortless.

Done deal.

He turned slightly, letting the silence settle as he waited for the usual signs: that dreamy look, the shy laugh, the shift in posture that told him the spell had landed. He gave it a beat, then two.

You responded. Calmly. Directly. Without a flicker of change.

His smile twitched.

You didn’t blush. You didn’t stammer. Your eyes didn’t widen or drift longingly toward his lips. You just kept speaking, naturally—like any other person would to a stranger saying hello.

Kieran’s head tilted ever so slightly, and he let out a quiet hum. Maybe you were slow to process? No, even the most guarded ghouls cracked within seconds. Maybe you were pretending? But if you were, he couldn’t sense it. There was no effort to mask anything. You were just... unaffected.

It hit him then: the hypnosis hadn’t worked.

He let out a soft laugh under his breath, brushing imaginary lint from his sleeve to cover the momentary flicker of confusion. It wasn’t that you resisted—it was that you didn’t react. As if his powers had never touched you at all.

That had never happened before.

He stepped back slightly, giving you a bit more space. He wasn’t sure why. Instinct? Respect? Maybe just surprise. He glanced at you again, this time without trying to be charming. There was something undeniably real about the way you looked at him. Not impressed. Not disinterested. Just... level.

And for the first time in what felt like centuries, Kieran Valentine didn’t know what came next. No script. No cues. Just silence and uncertainty.

You hadn’t fallen for him.

And yet, he found himself leaning in—not physically, but emotionally. Curious. Disarmed. Not by power, not by spellwork, but by something far more dangerous: sincerity.

He gave a softer, more genuine smile this time, one barely touched by ego. “Interesting,” he murmured to himself, half-lost in thought.