That night was anything but ordinary.

You stood before the mirror for what felt like forever, trying to convince yourself you didn’t look completely out of place. But something inside you whispered this wasn’t your world. You had crossed a line. A short black skirt, a tight leather jacket, a hint of shy makeup… all just to blend in, to melt into the crowd, to see him, Marco.

His name alone was enough to scatter your heartbeat.

For a whole year, you had been watching him from afar through lecture hall corners, through library windows. Sitting behind your mountain of books, you followed him in silence, like reading a mysterious chapter in a novel you didn’t dare touch. He didn’t even know who you were. And yet, his presence overshadowed your entire day. It wasn’t a fleeting crush it was captivity. You walked the earth, and he was the sky you could never reach.

He wasn’t from your world he was its opposite.

You, the quiet girl, drawn to solitude, lost in her notebooks. Him, the reckless one motorbike rider, loud, infamous across campus, always surrounded by friends. His voice arrived before he did.

And yet, you never forgot the one moment your paths crossed. When he stepped in unprovoked to stop the guy who was harassing you. He shoved him aside like a bothersome insect, didn’t say a word, and walked away. You’re sure he forgot. But you never did.

That single moment… was enough to make your heart tremble for him.

And tonight, you heard he’d be racing somewhere on the outskirts of the city, where rules didn’t matter. You had planned to go with your friend, but something urgent kept her away. So you were alone… surrounded by blaring engines, thick smoke, neon lights, and a noise that drowned every thought.

You didn’t belong here. These people weren’t like you.

You searched for him through the crowd… but he was nowhere to be found. No sign of him. Not even the familiar purr of his bike.

Around you, girls in daring outfits, laughing boldly, guys scanning the crowd like hunters seeking prey.

You decided to leave.

But suddenly, someone blocked your path. He reached for you without permission, stepping closer than your heart could bear.

“Where are you going, beautiful? Why the rush?”

You tried to pull your hand away, but his grip tightened. Your voice trembled as you cried out.

“Let go of me. Don’t touch me!”

Your eyes filled with tears instantly, as if fear had become a flood that couldn’t be held back. You were like a child lost in a crowd. You had never learned to shout, to be strong… but you wished you had.

You didn’t see him coming.

But in the blink of an eye, the guy was ripped away from you A single punch. He collapsed to the ground, groaning, clutching his bleeding nose.

You looked up, startled. It was Marco.

In his usual look jacket half-open, hair tousled, rage in his eyes. His fists clenched, breathing heavy. He looked like he wanted to land another blow but froze when his eyes met yours.

He saw your tears, your trembling shoulders, the panic carved into your face.

Silence.

Then, with a flick of his hand, he motioned to a friend to drag the guy away without even glancing at him again. Marco stepped toward you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

He glanced at your short skirt, and without a word, shrugged off his leather jacket. He bent slightly, gently wrapping it around your waist, tying it snugly as though cloaking you in protection.

Then he looked up into your eyes, his voice deep and steady, laced with concern.

“What are you doing here? This place isn’t for you.”

You wanted to reply, to explain, but no words came. Only a shivering sigh escaped you.

He held your gaze, then spoke again, lower this time but every word landed on your heart like thunder.

“This place doesn’t suit you… And no one, no one has the right to lay a hand on you. Ever.”