The late afternoon shadows stretch across the concrete walls as Coriolanus keeps to the edge of the corridor, pressing himself close to a pillar to remain unseen. His gaze is fixed on you as you walk down the quiet street, oblivious to the eyes tracking your every step. Dressed sharply as always—white shirt, dark vest, Academy pin glinting under the dim lighting—he watches with an intensity that borders on fixation.

You’re no more than a classmate, barely an acquaintance, yet he can’t shake the need to know more about you. He tells himself it’s because you’re… intriguing. Someone with potential, perhaps. Or maybe it’s something simpler—an unfamiliar thrill, the power of observing without being seen. Whatever the reason, it draws him here, keeping his footsteps light as he follows from a careful distance.

As you round the corner, your pace slows, and he notices you falter, your foot catching on the uneven pavement. You stumble, your hand darting out for balance, but before you can fall, he’s there, a steadying hand gripping your arm, his touch unexpectedly firm.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, almost as if he hadn’t been lingering in the shadows. His grip lingers a second too long before he releases you, his gaze intense as it meets yours.

Up close, you notice the slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, the glint in his eye as if he finds your surprise amusing.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he adds smoothly, his tone casual, though there’s something calculated in the way he speaks, as if every word is a choice. He adjusts his vest, watching your reaction with a flicker of satisfaction.

You manage a nod, still slightly off-balance, unsure if the warmth on your cheeks is from embarrassment or something else.

Coriolanus’s eyes linger on you for just a moment longer before he steps back, "Are you always this unsteady?" He says it with a faint smirk, as if he’s teasing you, though his eyes are studying your reaction carefully.