By the next day, everyone knew.
Not the full story. Not the fight. But enough.
Whispers followed Elena from the gate to the classroom.
"Siya 'yung kasama ni Raven kahapon."
"Grabe, ang tapang."
"Baka girlfriend na."
Girlfriend.
The word made her stomach twist.
She wasn't anything to him. She barely even understood what they were.
When she entered the room, she felt the stares again. She kept her head down and went straight to her seat.
Raven came in a few minutes later.
There was a small cut on his eyebrow, covered badly with a bandage. His lip still slightly swollen.
Their eyes met for a second.
He didn't smile.
But he didn't look away either.
Vanessa, who was seated near the window, noticed.
Of course she did.
At break time, Elena was organizing her notes when someone blocked the light in front of her desk.
Vanessa.
"We need to talk," she said calmly.
Elena swallowed but nodded. "Okay."
They stepped outside near the stairs where it was quieter.
Vanessa crossed her arms. "I don't know what game you're playing."
"I'm not playing anything."
"You expect me to believe that?" Vanessa's tone wasn't loud. It was controlled. That made it worse. "Raven doesn't hang around people randomly."
"I didn't ask him to."
Vanessa studied her face, like she was trying to find a lie.
"Do you even know what kind of life he has?" she asked.
Elena hesitated.
"No."
"Exactly." Vanessa's voice softened slightly. "You're smart. Focus on your future. Don't get dragged into his mess."
It wasn't a threat.
It almost sounded like advice.
That confused Elena even more.
"I'm not trying to change him," Elena said quietly. "And I'm not trying to be part of anything."
Vanessa looked at her for a long second.
"Feelings don't ask for permission," she said before walking away.
—
That afternoon, Elena stayed late again.
Not because of tutoring.
Because she needed space to think.
She sat alone in the classroom, staring at the board even though there was nothing written on it.
"Overthinking?"
She didn't need to turn around.
Raven.
"Do you ever get tired of appearing out of nowhere?" she asked.
He shrugged, leaning against the door. "You didn't answer my messages."
"You have my number?"
He held up his phone. "You wrote it in my notebook when you were explaining formulas."
Her face flushed. She didn't even remember doing that.
"You didn't reply," he repeated.
"I was busy."
"Thinking?"
She sighed. "Yes."
He walked closer, but not too close this time.
"I heard Vanessa talked to you."
News traveled fast in his world.
"She did."
"And?"
"And she's not wrong."
That caught him off guard.
He frowned slightly. "About what?"
"About your world."
Silence.
He looked at her differently again — like he wasn't used to someone being honest with him.
"You think I'm going to ruin your life?" he asked.
"I think," she said carefully, "that you're used to danger. I'm not."
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated but quiet.
"I don't want you involved in that," he said.
"Then why do you keep pulling me closer?"
The question hung between them.
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he sat on the desk in front of her.
"I don't know," he admitted.
And that was probably the most honest thing he had ever said.
Elena looked at him — really looked at him.
Without the rumors. Without the gang name. Without the reputation.
Just Raven.
"You don't scare me," she said softly.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. "I should."
"Maybe," she said. "But you don't."
Something shifted in his expression. Not dominance. Not pride.
Something vulnerable.
"You're dangerous too," he murmured.
She blinked. "Me?"
"You walk into fights like you're not afraid. You say what you think. You look at me like I'm not some monster."
Her heart started racing again.
"That's because you're not," she replied.
For a second, it felt like the whole world shrank into that empty classroom.
No gang.
No rivals.
Just two people sitting too close.
Raven leaned forward slightly.
"Elena," he said quietly.
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't intense.
It was careful.
And maybe that made it more real.
"If this gets messy," he continued, "you can walk away. I won't stop you."
She studied his face.
"You're giving me an exit?"
"I'm giving you a choice."
She stood up slowly, now only inches away from him.
"What if I don't want an exit?"
His breathing changed — just slightly.
"Then," he said, voice low, "you're choosing me."
And that scared her more than any fight ever could.
But she didn't step back.
Not this time.
To be continued…