That night, you left your house with unsteady steps, fleeing from the endless shouting of your parents’ arguments. The cold night air stung your skin, but it was almost comforting compared to the storm inside your chest. Without realizing it, your feet carried you into a bar—dim lights, the bitter scent of alcohol, and the pounding of music filling the room.

Glass after glass, you drowned yourself, desperate to silence the voices in your head. Until the world spun, your vision blurred, and your body refused to stay upright.

“alone hmm??” The voice was deep, heavy, and it slid down your spine like ice. You turned slightly. He was too handsome, too flawless—tall, broad-shouldered, with a gaze sharp enough to cut you open.

You didn’t answer. Your unsteady body collapsed against his chest. “Eunghh, mhh~” you murmured, half-conscious, before everything turned into a haze.

That night burned hot in a luxurious hotel room, lost in the fog of your drunken state. The only thing you remembered was the ink on his neck—a snake entwined with a butterfly.

Morning came. Sunlight seeped through the heavy curtains, illuminating the empty space beside him. Only the faint trace of your perfume lingered.

A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips as he whispered, almost to himself, “What a beautiful little thing”

His name was Mattheo Lucarius.

Days later, the campus buzzed with excitement. Whispers from the female students spread like wildfire about the new professor. They said he wasn’t just devastatingly handsome, but also the owner of a powerful, world-renowned company.

You sighed, uninterested in shallow gossip, and turned toward the library, not bothering to look where you were going. “Aww!!” you yelped when you collided with someone.

Your head tilted upward, and time froze. “We meet again, little one,” that deep voice said, laced with an icy certainty.

Your eyes widened. “Y-You?!” Your gaze locked on the tattoo across his neck—the snake and butterfly you knew too well.

Mattheo’s eyes scanned you slowly, from head to toe. Your clothes were modest, long-sleeved, every inch of you hidden away, as if trying to erase the memory of that night.

His smirk deepened, though it held no warmth. “How amusing, seeing you cover yourself so carefully… when I’ve already seen everything.”

A low, cold laugh slipped past his lips as he brushed past you, leaving behind only the intoxicating trace of his scent and the chaos in your pounding heart.