Aria woke up late — again.
"Why didn't anyone wake me?!" she yelled, running around her room like a tornado in a pink sweater. She grabbed her sketchbook, backpack, and her half-done design model all at once.
From downstairs, her mother called, "Honey, I told you to wake up early, didn't I?"
"I know, Mommy! I forgot I even go to university!" Aria shouted back, racing down the stairs — only to miss the last step and crash right onto the floor.
Her father, mid-sip of coffee, burst out laughing and almost choked. "That's my girl," he coughed.
"Dad, stop laughing!" she groaned, trying to fix her messy bun.
"Why? It's hilarious," he said between chuckles.
"You're lucky I'm late! See you after class!" she called, rushing out the door with one shoe untied.
---
☀️ At the University
The campus buzzed with the usual Monday chaos — students chatting, music playing from someone's speaker, coffee spilling, papers flying.
Then a sleek black car pulled up near the architecture building.
When the door opened, silence rippled through the crowd.
A man stepped out — tall, broad shoulders, hair black as midnight, suit hugging every inch of his sculpted frame. His tie loosened just enough to seem effortless. His sharp eyes scanned the area with cool detachment, like he already owned the place.
Rylan Crowe.
He was new — the freshly appointed architecture professor.
Girls whispered as he walked past.
"Who is that?"
"Please tell me he's teaching our class."
"God, he looks like he stepped out of a magazine."
Even the principal, waiting at the entrance, froze for a second too long before extending a hand.
"Mr. Crowe! Welcome to Riverstone University. We're honored to have someone of your credentials join us."
Rylan smiled — a polite, unreadable curve of his lips. "Thank you. I'm eager to begin."
As he followed the principal down the hall, his gaze briefly swept the crowd of students outside the window — pausing just a moment longer on a blur of pink rushing across the courtyard, late for class, hair bouncing wildly in the wind.
He didn't know her name yet.
But somehow, in that second, he couldn't look away.
"Eli! Maya! Wait up!" Aria shouted, nearly tripping over her own shoelace as she dashed toward them.
Eli, holding a burger in one hand and his sketchbook in the other, looked unimpressed. "You're late." He held out the burger. "I knew you didn't eat."
Aria snatched it with a grin. "You know me best." She took a huge bite.
Maya crossed her arms, already ready to scold her. "Explain yourself. Did you forget you go to university again?"
"Don't judge me! I have my moments," Aria said through a mouthful of food. "And—damn—this burger tastes amazing. Now, let's get to class before someone catches us."
They all laughed and hurried down the hall.
---
When they entered the studio, Aria waved cheerfully. "Morning, everyone!"
Her smile faltered when she spotted her.
Aria muttered, "Ugh, the witch is here too."
Maya sighed. "Aria, she's here every day. We're in the same class."
"Oh, right," Aria said with a fake innocent smile.
Before she could sit down, Chloe — all perfect hair and fake confidence — walked over with a smirk.
"Well, if it isn't Aria Vale, the useless die-hard of this class."
Aria crossed her arms. "Shut up, Chloe. What do you even know?"
Chloe flipped her hair. "I know better, that's what."
"Better? Like what?" Aria shot back.
Chloe opened her mouth — then froze. The class burst into laughter.
Before it could go further, the principal's voice boomed through the room.
"Everyone, settle down! I have an announcement."
The chatter died instantly.
Aria, still grinning from her small victory, sank into the sixth row. Maya and Eli sat just behind her.
"We have a new professor joining us today," the principal said, glancing toward the door. "Please welcome Mr. Crowe."
Aria perked up, whispering, "Ooh, new teacher. Interesting." She leaned down to grab her fallen sketchbook from under the table—
—and that's when he walked in.
The room went silent.
His footsteps were slow, deliberate. His black hair caught the morning light, and his dark suit fit like it was made just for him. Every head turned, every whisper stopped.
Rylan Crowe.
He scanned the room, his gaze sharp and unreadable—until Aria straightened from under the table, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, hair slightly messy.
For a moment, they just stared at each other.
Her breath caught. His expression didn't change—but his eyes softened, just slightly.
Something shifted in the air.
She blinked, breaking the gaze, completely unaware that from that moment on…
he wouldn't stop watching her.