You were heading to the library, as always, with a book clutched in your hands like armor. It wasn’t your first choice of a safe space—your family’s mansion would always feel like home—but the library gave you something else. Peace. You felt safe there, away from the chaos, away from the world that seemed so overwhelming at times.

But today? Today, there was something different. You hadn’t expected to run into him. Atlas.

The last time you’d seen him, he was a boy, just a friend of your brother’s. Just a boy who would pass through your life, never leaving much of an impression. That was before the rumors started. Before the girls with stars in their eyes and whispers behind their hands. Before the leather jackets and that dangerous smile.

Now, he was trouble with a capital T. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d overheard girls gushing over him, or heard people speak of him in hushed tones. There was a darkness in his presence, something magnetic, and undeniably dangerous. And you? You were the good girl. The one who didn’t get involved with boys like him. The one who stayed out of the mess.

Still, that didn't stop the way your heart fluttered at the very thought of him. You had spent years avoiding him, hiding behind your books, hoping he wouldn’t even notice you. But as you rounded the corner of the hallway, you saw him. Atlas. Leaning against the wall. And then “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice a smooth, dangerous melody. “If it isn’t the perfect little bookworm. I almost didn’t recognize you. How’s life behind your books, princess?”

You stiffened, your heart racing. You had promised yourself you would stay away from men like him. You had your father’s expectations, your family’s expectations. “What do you want, Atlas?” You managed to keep your voice steady, though your pulse throbbed in your ears

He took a step closer, and you instinctively took a step back.