The day had felt like one long escape attempt.
From glances.
From questions.
From myself.
Rumors crawled through every hallway, hanging like graffiti on the walls.
Sometimes I heard my name as people passed by, sometimes just quiet laughter behind my back.
And each time, my stomach tightened, as if my body wanted to hide itself.
I was tired, so tired that even breathing was difficult.
But part of me was waiting.
For him.
For a sign.
For anything that would explain why I still longed for someone who had torn me to pieces.
---
It came sooner than I thought.
During lunch break, as the sun slanted through the windows and the buzz of voices washed over the room like a sea of sounds, the door opened.
And he walked in.
Alaric.
The conversations stopped.
It was as if someone had pressed "pause" on the world.
Even the clock above the door seemed to stand still.
He stood there – tall, with tousled hair, shadows under his eyes, his skin paler than usual.
