I barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, all I could feel was Gabriel's arms around me—the way he held me behind the curtain like the world outside was something he needed to protect me from. The way he trembled, as if he was the one who might break.
And his last words still echoed through me:
"Tomorrow. Somewhere away from all this."
I woke before my alarm, heart tight, mind replaying every second of last night. My phone sat on my pillow. I kept staring at it, waiting for a message that hadn't arrived yet.
But I knew he'd text.
He always did.
Even when he shouldn't.
I showered, dressed, tried to look normal. The dorm hallway buzzed with morning chatter, shoes slamming against the linoleum floor, someone shouting about a forgotten assignment. But everything felt distant. Muted.
I kept checking my phone.
Nothing.
I forced myself to walk to class. The cold air outside bit at my skin, but the chill only amplified the warmth that had lingered on my body from Gabriel's touch.
My first lecture blurred by. I didn't hear a single word the professor said.
It wasn't until I stepped outside that my phone vibrated in my hand.
A single message.
From him.
My breath froze in my chest as I unlocked it.
Gabriel:
12:30. Practice room hallway. Don't go inside. Just wait near the stairs. I'll pick you up.
My hands tightened around the phone.
He wasn't meeting me in campus.
He was taking me somewhere off campus.
Somewhere no one could walk in on us.
Somewhere we didn't have to hide behind curtains.
Just reading it made my stomach twist with a mixture of fear and anticipation.
I typed back:
Me:
I'll be there.
My finger hovered before sending, but my heart had already decided long before my brain could catch up.
The message delivered instantly.
Three dots appeared.
Vanished.
Appeared again.
Then finally:
Gabriel:
Good.
One word—but heavy, loaded, restrained, as if he was fighting something even through the screen.
I stared at the message for a long time before finally lowering my phone.
Time moved painfully slow until 12:30.
When it finally arrived, I found myself walking toward the practice building with a pulse louder than my footsteps. The hallway was empty, the faint smell of wood polish and old sheet music drifting through the air.
I stood near the stairwell like he told me. I didn't know why I felt so nervous. It wasn't fear of being caught.
It was fear of what would happen if we weren't.
A few minutes passed.
Then I heard footsteps approaching from the left—steady, familiar, controlled… yet rushed.
Gabriel.
He turned the corner, and for a second, he stopped walking when he saw me. Just stood there, chest rising and falling, his eyes darkening in a way that made my breath hitch.
He wasn't dressed like a professor today.
Dark coat. Black sweater.
And he looked… different.
Less guarded.
More real.
More dangerous.
Like last night had shaken something loose inside him.
"You're early," he said softly as he reached me.
"You're late," I replied, though my voice didn't sound like mine.
He stared at me for a few seconds before nodding toward the exit. "Come."
He didn't touch me in the hallway. He didn't even walk too close. He was too careful. Too aware of where we were. But I could feel the tension radiating off him like heat.
Outside, his car was parked in one of the side lots—far from where students normally walked.
He opened the passenger door for me.
Not like a professor.
Not like a mentor.
But like a man who had made a decision he could no longer turn back from.
The car was warm, smelling faintly of cedar and old leather. When Gabriel got in, he didn't start the engine right away. He just sat there, hands gripping the steering wheel, jaw clenched.
The silence was thick.
Too thick.
Finally, he spoke.
"Are you sure you want to be here?" His voice was low, rough, almost pained. "If you get in this car with me… it won't be the same afterward."
I didn't hesitate.
"I'm already here."
He closed his eyes for a second. Almost like the words physically hit him.
When he opened them, something had shifted.
Something irreversible.
He started the car.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, I watched the campus fade behind us. The tension in the small space grew with every passing second.
"Where are we going?" I asked quietly.
"A place no one will look for us," he answered without turning.
I swallowed. "Is that supposed to make me feel safe?"
"No." His lips pressed into a thin line. "It's supposed to make you understand the gravity of this."
He was right.
I did understand.
Because nothing about what we were doing was casual. Not the way he looked at me. Not the way he protected me. Not the way his voice dropped whenever he spoke to me.
This wasn't a phase.
This was a fall.
We drove for nearly twenty minutes until the city gave way to quieter roads. Trees lined both sides, branches brushing the car windows. At last, we turned into a narrow lane leading to a private lake house—secluded, almost hidden.
He stopped the car.
But he didn't unlock the doors.
He sat still, hands gripping the wheel again, breathing uneven.
"Gabriel?" I whispered.
This time, he turned to me.
And there was nothing restrained in his eyes anymore.
Nothing guarded.
Nothing distant.
Only a raw, desperate truth he had run from for too long.
"I brought you here," he said slowly, "because I need to talk to you without looking over my shoulder. Without lying to myself. Without pretending I don't…" He broke off, inhaling sharply. "I shouldn't have feelings for you."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"But you do," I whispered.
His jaw tightened painfully.
"Yes." His voice cracked with the admission. "I do."
The air thickened. My breath caught.
He leaned closer—not touching me, not yet—but close enough that the world shrank to the space between us.
"And that terrifies me more than anything," he murmured, "because wanting you is the one thing I can't control…"
His voice dropped to a trembling whisper.
"…and the one thing I can't let go."
I didn't move.
Neither did he.
But something invisible snapped between us.
He whispered, "Tell me to stop. If you say it, I will."
I swallowed, my pulse a storm.
"I'm not going to say it."
His breath shook.
And for the first time, Gabriel let himself look at me not as a responsibility… not as a danger…
But as someone he had already fallen for.
Deeply.
Painfully.
Completely.