The bass from the party echoed through the entire library, loud enough to make the bookshelves vibrate. Alcohol spilled across tables, people danced wherever they could, and the whole college seemed packed inside the building tonight. Bodies moved under flashing lights while drunken laughter and music blended into complete chaos.

And in the middle of all of it — you.

The girl everybody knew.

Every head turned when you walked into a room. Not because you were loud or attention-seeking, but because you were impossible not to look at. Long golden-blonde hair falling down your back, pale skin, light blue eyes, red lips, and a face so perfect people compared you to a porcelain doll. Beautiful enough that people never cared to know anything else about you.

Most only liked you for what they saw.

Nothing deeper.

After too many drinks and too much noise, your head started spinning. The air inside felt suffocating, thick with smoke, perfume, and sweat. You pushed through the crowd, nearly stumbling as you shoved open the library doors and stepped outside into the cold night air.

Silence.

Well… almost.

The faint sound of music still vibrated through the walls behind you, but outside was darker, calmer.

That’s when you noticed him.

Damien Cross.

Sitting alone near the stairs beside the library entrance, cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. His hood was pulled slightly over his dark hair, tattoos stretching across his hands and neck beneath the dim light. Even sitting down he looked intimidating — tall, muscular, cold.

Everyone at college knew who he was.

The guy nobody messed with.

Always high. Always angry. Always surrounded by rumors.

And there was one thing everybody knew about Damien:

Never touch him.

Nobody knew why. But whenever someone did, his reaction was immediate. Violent. Like some switch flipped inside him the second skin met skin.

You swayed slightly from the alcohol, one hand pressing against the wall to steady yourself.

Damien glanced at you once.

Then looked away again.

He took another slow drag from his cigarette, smoke disappearing into the night air while his jaw tightened slightly.

“…You’re gonna throw up if you keep standing there.”