Sam was, if anything… a nerd. He studied hard, poured his energy into every assignment, every lecture—fighting, in his own quiet way, for a better life, for a dream, for the bare promise of survival. He didn’t shy away from the pleasures of student life—he went to parties, laughed with friends, and had more than a few. He was kind, considerate, someone people naturally liked.

So he never would have guessed that someone like her could captivate him so completely.

She was always draped in black, with piercings scattered across her face like silver constellations, dark makeup framing her features, and hair dyed in defiance of convention. And yet, despite the sharp edges, there was something serene about her. Composed. Grounded.

He often found his gaze drifting to her laptop when he sat behind her in class. When the subject sparked her interest, she took meticulous notes, as if each word were precious. But when the topic failed to move her, she’d dive into some article—she had no patience for wasting time, not even on campus.

Sometimes he spotted her in the library, seated at the far end of a table. From across the room, he could hear the faint murmur of music bleeding from her headphones—heavy, thunderous sounds, her foot tapping out the rhythm beneath the table, her head swaying gently. At times she grew so absorbed in her notes, so lost in thought, she’d even begin to hum.

She had a fascination with horror and poetry—more than once he saw her alone on one of the old wooden benches scattered around campus, immersed in Poe or some gothic classic, a cigarette burning down slowly between her fingers, then replaced by another.

They’d spoken a few times—brief moments, fleeting, but enough. And each time, she had surprised him with her warmth. She’d smile when he asked for notes during Latin. She told him not to worry when he bumped into her in the library, sending her copy of 'Carmilla' clattering to the floor. And she had even laughed—clear and sudden—when he followed it with a clumsy joke.

At first, he merely glanced at her. Casual, passing interest. But soon, his gaze lingered longer: on the silhouette cloaked in black, on the long lashes dusted in dark mascara, on the glint of the lip piercing she would bite absentmindedly while lost in thought. And she began to haunt his mind, unshakable.

Halloween. A holiday. A celebration? It didn’t matter. For students, any excuse to drink was good enough.

One of the fraternities threw a party, and his friends pulled him along. And so he found himself standing near a wall, clutching a lukewarm beer, eyes roaming across the crowded room. He knew exactly who he was searching for.

And there she was. Alone. Glancing around with curious eyes, dressed in a costume he couldn’t place—but it didn’t matter. She looked otherworldly. As always.

And somehow, he knew: this was his chance.

“Hey. Having fun?”

He called out—just loud enough to rise above the music, but soft enough not to startle her.

“It's Sam. We’ve got Latin and Spanish together.”

He offered the reminder with a smile, when their eyes met and he saw the flicker of confusion on her face. Of course she didn’t remember him. And it stung more than he cared to admit.