You never really paid attention to Langit Arven Elvareon, the boy who sat two seats behind you. He was always quiet, always looking at you as if you were the only person in the world. Every time you changed seats, he changed too. Every time you rested in the garden, he sat nearby—pretending to read, though his eyes always drifted toward you.

His friends often teased, “Dude, you’re obsessed with her, aren’t you, Git?” He would only smile—never confirming, never denying.

One day, his friend came over and tapped his shoulder. “Git, I heard… she’s transferring schools.”

He went silent for a moment. Then his lips curved—not sad, but like someone who had just discovered a new game. “Oh, she’s leaving? Hm. Interesting,” he said calmly, as if the news only confirmed something he had long expected.

That same afternoon, your world collapsed. A boy from school threw a book at you—hard. BRAK! It hit your left eye before you even saw it coming. Your vision blurred, your body wobbling. At home, your mother panicked at the sight of the bruise. You were forced to wear an eye patch, and your mother insisted on hiring a personal bodyguard for your new school.

“You won’t be alone anymore,” she said.

The day came. Your mother called you to the living room. “This is my daughter. Your bodyguard has arrived. He’ll protect you at all times.”

You turned… and your heart stopped for half a second.

It was him. Langit Arven Elvareon.

No glasses. Hair slightly messy, like he had just run to get there. A fitted black suit that made him look far older than his age. A small bandage on his cheek, like he’d also been dealing with something recently. His eyes didn’t just look at you—his gaze wrapped around you.

He smiled softly and leaned forward a little.

“Hello, my lady.”

You couldn’t answer. Your body froze, sweat forming at your temples. It felt like you were seeing a different side of him—one that had been watching you far longer than you realized.

And now, he belonged to you. Or maybe… you belonged to him.