Mira barely stepped into the hallway before Camille practically tackled her, gripping her shoulders like she had just witnessed a crime.
"Mira, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Camille gasped, shaking her lightly. "How—HOW did you and Adrian end up with that final plan? I swear, I thought you two were about to go full gladiator mode, and then BOOM—you're suddenly co-authors of a national policy?"
Elias crossed his arms, shaking his head. "I didn't know Adrian had this side to him. He was so… composed, strategic, completely in control—like some kind of debating warlord."
"Forget that," Elara cut in, her eyes sparkling. "He was deadly handsome up there. The confidence, the intellect, the cold, piercing gaze? Mira, how did you even argue with him without getting distracted?"
Mira gave her a flat look. "Because I was focusing on winning, Elara."
Luca smirked, his grin full of mischief. "Winning? Oh no, Mira, you didn't just win. You did the impossible—you melted the Ice Prince."
Mira groaned. "Not this again—" Luca ignored her, dramatically throwing an arm over her shoulders.
"Think about it! Adrian, the untouchable, stone-cold logic machine—until you came along. You, with your fiery passion and undeniable charm, broke through the frost. He was practically engaged in that debate, Mira! I mean, before today, did anyone even know Adrian could make facial expressions?"
Elara gasped. "Oh my God, you're right! He smirked! I saw it! He smirked at you, Mira!"
Camille gasped too, eyes wide. "WAIT. He did smirk. That means something. Cold, logical Adrian doesn't waste energy on unnecessary muscle movement. If he smirked, it was intentional."
Elias, ever the voice of reason, sighed. "You guys are reading way too much into this."
"Are we?" Luca wiggled his eyebrows. "Because I remember an entire room chanting 'Date! Date! Date!' and Adrian didn't shut it down. If he really had no interest, he would've said something like, 'This conversation is irrelevant to the discussion at hand' and vaporized us all with his stare."
Mira didn't slow down, but she also didn't bolt away like before—she just needed to escape the relentless teasing.
"Alright, alright, that's enough!" she groaned, throwing her hands up as Camille, Elias, Elara, and Luca grinned around her.
"We're just saying," Elara smirked. "You and Adrian? Fire and ice. Classic pairing."
"And somehow, you melted the ice prince," Luca added dramatically, clasping his hands together.
"Not melted. Just cracked," Elias corrected. "But still. Impressive."
Mira pulled her bag closer over her shoulder. "I did not melt anything. It was just a debate."
Camille hummed, unconvinced. "A debate where you two somehow ended up with a joint policy. How did that even happen?"
"They were totally scheming behind our backs," Luca accused playfully.
Mira huffed, ready to snap back, but then—
Her bag shifted.
Something slipped out.
A small notebook tumbled from the side pocket.
Just as Adrian finished up his conversation with the experts and walked out, he halted for a brief second, watching as the notebook tumbled a few inches ahead. Without a word, he stepped forward, bent down, and picked it up.
It wasn't just any notebook. He recognized it instantly.
Mira's debate notes.
Adrian's sharp eyes scanned the familiar scribbles on the open page—quick, passionate, yet precise handwriting. She had counterpoints marked in bold, little arrows linking her thoughts together, and… was that a tiny doodle of a fire symbol next to his name?
He blinked. Fire and ice. Seriously?
She still hadn't realized.
Adrian's fingers tapped against the notebook thoughtfully.
He could return it now… or later.
❧
Mira, still chatting with her friends earlier, had lost track of time. Now, much later, she's sitting in the dorm lounge, reviewing her notes with a cup of tea. The common area is quiet—most students have gone to their rooms. The warm light casts a soft glow over the space, making it feel oddly peaceful after the intense debate.
Then, footsteps.
Adrian entered the lounge with his usual quiet steps, heading toward the shelves that lined the far wall.
He wasn't looking for her. Not exactly.
But there she was. Mira, curled into the corner armchair like a cat in mid-thought.
Adrian paused.
It was only for a moment, a blink, really. Then he reached into his bag and pulled out a familiar, worn notebook with a cracked spine.
Crossing the lounge, he approached her table and stopped just beside her.
"You're surprisingly easy to track," he said, tone dry but not unkind.
Mira looked up, startled, blinking once as if surfacing from underwater. Her eyes fell to the notebook in his hand, and her expression shifted.
"…Were you tracking me?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Not intentionally," he replied, holding out the notebook. "You left this behind."
She took it from him, flipping it open to inspect the pages. Adrian watched her calmly, arms crossed.
"Did you at least resist the urge to read it?" she muttered, half to herself.
"If I wanted to analyze your thoughts, I wouldn't need your notes."
That earned a short, surprised laugh from her. She closed the notebook with a soft snap and shook her head.
"Right, because you'd rather argue with me in real-time," she said, a wry smile tugging at her lips.
"It's more efficient," he said with a perfectly straight face.
Mira didn't bother denying it.
Mira leaned back in the lounge chair, arms folded, a knowing smirk curling at her lips as she watched Adrian sat with practiced calm.
"I have to say," she began, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, "I didn't know you had that side of you—standing there like some confident minister, brushing off every interrogation like it was beneath you."
Adrian's face was unreadable, though there was the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes. "Didn't you think I could handle it?"
Mira scoffed. "I mean… you did give a certain impression before."
The words slipped out before she could stop herself. And the moment she saw the way Adrian's gaze sharpened—just slightly—she regretted it.
"Oh?" he said mildly, head tilting a fraction. "And what impression was that?"
Mira flinched internally. Great. Bait taken.
"Some parts of your argument," she said, quickly shifting the topic, "weren't exactly in our agreement."
Unfazed, Adrian's voice took on the light edge of teasing. "I gave you an opportunity. You took it. Really, you should be thanking me."
Mira gave a short, dry breath of disbelief. "Oh, sure. Thank you, Adrian, for nearly making me have a heart attack on stage."
"You seemed fine to me," he said, deadpan. "In fact, you were thriving."
Mira let out a groan, slumping deeper into her seat. "Ugh. Why do you have to be so infuriating?"
"It's a skill," he replied, lifting his cup again.
She narrowed her eyes but smiled anyway. "Still. Next time? A little warning before you pull a stunt like that."
Adrian's tone was dry as ever. "Where's the fun in that?"
Without hesitation, Mira grabbed the nearest pillow and chucked it at him. He dodged easily, of course, with a flicker of a smirk.
There was a pause. Just long enough to be comfortable. Then, as if it had only just occurred to him, Adrian spoke again—casually, like he was commenting on the weather.
"Speaking of stunts," he said, "you never did get caught for that teleprompter incident."
Mira froze mid-motion. Her brain emptied in one breath.
"…Excuse me?" she managed.
Adrian leaned back, entirely relaxed, watching her with mild interest, like a professor waiting for a student to admit to something everyone already knew.
"At the sustainability summit," Adrian said, his tone maddeningly casual. "Minister Hartford. The teleprompter."
Mira stared at him, jaw slack. "You were there?"
He nodded once. "Yes."
"You didn't tell anyone?!"
Adrian answered, unbotheredly. "Why would I?"
Mira's brain whirred, trying to keep up. The realization settled with a mix of horror and disbelief. "Oh my god," she breathed. "You actually enjoyed that, didn't you?"
Adrian tilted his head slightly, as if weighing her words. "It was… interesting."
She narrowed her eyes. Something didn't add up—something in his voice, in the way he said that.
"Wait a minute…" she said slowly.
He didn't move. Didn't react. But something about him shifted. Not outwardly, but Mira felt it—like there was something just beneath the surface, waiting to be uncovered.
"You recognized me from the beginning," she said.
A silence fell between them.
His expression didn't change—still calm, unreadable—but the way he looked at her now was different. Like he'd been waiting for her to catch up.
"What do you think?" he said.
Mira inhaled sharply. "You did."
He didn't confirm. But he didn't deny it either.
She sat up straighter, suddenly seeing him in a new light. "Then why," she asked slowly, "did you act like you didn't know me when we met again in Vermillion? Like I was just some stranger?"
Adrian's gaze flickered. Just a flicker—amusement, maybe, or something more calculated.
"And if I had acknowledged it?" he asked.
Mira blinked. "I—what?"
"If I had told you right then that I remembered you," he continued, "what would you have done?"
She opened her mouth, ready to shoot back something sharp—but the words stalled. Because she knew the truth.
She probably would have shut down. Put up walls. Questioned his motives, maybe even disappeared altogether. She wasn't the type to welcome being watched—especially not by someone like Adrian Vale, all quiet composure and unreadable eyes.
"So… you were testing me?" she asked.
"I was curious," he replied simply.
Mira echoed the word. "Curious?"
Adrian nodded. "You were the kind of person who could rewrite a government official's speech in real time and walk away without a flicker of guilt."
She smirked. "I call that a public service."
He ignored her, his voice steady. "I wanted to see if that same person would still intrigue me in a different setting."
Mira leaned in. "And? Did I?"
There was a pause.
Then, finally, Adrian let a small, knowing smirk tug at the corner of his mouth.
"You're still here, aren't you?"
Her heart did something weird in her chest—something fluttery and inconvenient—but trying to cover it.
"Ugh. You really are insufferable."
Unfazed, Adrian picked up his tea again. "It's a skill."
She groaned. "That's the second time you've said that today. Say it again, and I'm throwing something heavier than a pillow."
He took another sip, perfectly calm. "Noted."
Mira watched him for a moment longer, her earlier irritation giving way to something quieter. Something unsettled.
She had thought she was the one figuring him out—unpacking the mystery that was Adrian Vale.
But now, staring at him, she realized something that made her pulse skip.
He had been watching her long before she ever noticed him.
And just like that, she understood: Adrian Vale wasn't nearly as detached as he wanted the world to believe.
❧
The Global Sustainability Summit was one of the most prestigious events of the year, drawing world leaders, scientists, and activists into a grand, high-stakes stage. For Mira, it was just another battlefield.
At only sixteen, she had already made a name for herself in environmental activism, but that didn't mean people took her seriously—especially not Minister Callum Hartford. He was a powerful government official, notorious for dismissing youth-led movements as "idealistic noise." He had publicly undermined her in a panel discussion earlier that day, cutting her off mid-sentence and speaking over her with that condescending smile.
Mira didn't just want to prove a point. She wanted payback.
She saw the opportunity when she got access to the backstage system. The teleprompter team was full of volunteers, mostly university students who were excited just to be there. A few casual conversations, a flash of her press pass, and no one questioned her presence.
When she spotted an unattended laptop with Hartford's speech file open, the plan came together instantly.
With a few quick, calculated edits, she subtly twisted the speech—just enough to turn it into a satirical self-sabotage. She didn't make it ridiculous, just... revealing. Twisting his words so that, if he read them without thinking, it would sound like he was openly admitting to ignoring climate policies for the sake of profit.
The moment Hartford stepped onto the stage, Mira was perfectly calm.
She stood in the crowd, watching as he read from the prompter, his smooth confidence unwavering—until it wasn't.
Hartford started, his usual confidence giving way to an unintentional awkwardness. He cleared his throat, shuffled his papers, and glanced at the audience, clearly not realizing how the moment had already begun to slip. "Well, I'm here to tell you... that, uh, we're not really going to make any substantial changes. You see, it's just not in the best interest of our economy." He stumbled slightly over his words, trying to regain his composure.
Then, finding his rhythm again, he looked down at the young activists in the room with a patronizing smile. "So let's continue to pass legislation that sounds good, but in reality, leaves the door wide open for industries to keep making money while pretending to care." He paused, leaning forward slightly as if sharing some grand secret. "After all, that's what really matters. Not the naive hopes of a few dreamers."
The murmurs started slowly. A few quiet chuckles. Then, full-blown laughter. Hartford hesitated, his face twitching in confusion, but he kept reading. His own words betrayed him.
Mira bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. It was perfect.
Security scrambled. The teleprompter team panicked. But no one could prove a thing.
She thought she had gotten away with it.
But across the room, someone else had been watching. Someone who didn't laugh, didn't react outwardly—just quietly observed everything with his usual, unreadable expression.
Adrian Vale.
He hadn't been at the summit for activism. He had been invited to attend a panel on AI-driven sustainability models at the summit, and just happened to be there when the speech disaster unfolded.
And the moment he saw Mira in the audience, he knew.
She had the same calm, satisfied look she always had when things played out exactly how she wanted. The way she didn't even flinch at the chaos unfolding on stage? That was confirmation enough.
But he never said a word.
And Mira never knew Adrian saw everything.
❧