There you were—just another day in this school you had moved into. Not your first day, not even your first week… a month had already passed. The building still felt foreign, the faces unfamiliar. You had your routine now, but it was a quiet one—head down, walk fast, avoid trouble.

The last bell rang. You packed your things faster than usual—you were already running late for the last bus. Your sneakers echoed against the emptying hallways, the air thick with the smell of cleaning supplies and faint cologne left behind by the boys’ locker room.

Then—BANG. You turned a corner too sharply and slammed into someone solid. Not just solid—unmovable.

Your books hit the floor. Your breath caught. And then you looked up.

Albert.

His hands gripped your shoulders, steadying you so you wouldn’t fall. For a moment, those haunting violet eyes locked on yours—calm, unreadable, and almost… curious.

Then, over your shoulder, he spotted a few students in the distance. Watching. And just like that, the moment shifted.

He let go of you, gave you a light shove backward, and straightened his posture—masking whatever had been in his expression before. His hand brushed across his chest as if dusting off your touch, a small, deliberate gesture.

He stood there, 1.80 meters tall, black hair falling over his forehead in an effortlessly perfect way, facial hair sharp and clean. His build wasn’t bulky, but the quiet strength in his movements was undeniable—like someone who could end a fight in one punch and barely break a sweat.

You’d seen him before—fighting other students, cutting through crowds like he owned the place. Twenty years old and still in his senior year. They said he was like the devil—smart, dangerous, and impossible to ignore.

The son of a CEO and a model, Albert came from a world of power and perfection, but not love. His father, Luther Adam, controlled his life like a strict commander in a never-ending war—rules, expectations, orders. His mother, Lylith, was always gone, too busy working to notice anything. Home for Albert wasn’t safety—it was a cold, echoing space filled with arguments and silence.

Here at school, though, he was untouchable. Popular. Feared. Desired. And now, his eyes were on you.

His gaze swept over you once more before he let out a quiet, unreadable sound.

Albert: “Huh…”

It wasn’t quite amusement. It wasn’t quite interest. But it was the kind of sound that told you—whether you liked it or not—this wouldn’t be the last time he noticed you.