HIS POV:
Adrian woke to the sound of his phone vibrating violently against the table.
A single message glowed on the screen.
Unknown:She looks unaware.
His blood ran cold.
Which meant someone was close enough to see her.
Too close.
The message glowed in the dark like a wound that refused to close.
You interfered today.
Adrian's jaw tightened.
Interference meant territory.
Territory meant war.
His apartment was silent except for the distant hum of the city. He stood near the window, fingers curling slowly into his palm.
Somewhere below, a car door slammed shut in the street.
The sharp metallic echo sliced through the quiet.
His chest tightened.
That sound—
It dragged something old and buried to the surface.
A different night.
A different street.
Rain-soaked pavement. Broken streetlights. The smell of fear and blood.
A girl's hand in his.
Small, Trembling.,Slipping.
"Run, Adrian…" she had whispered, tears streaking her dirt-smudged face.
He had been thirteen. Too small,Too slow, Too helpless.
The sound of a car door slamming still echoed in his skull — metal biting into silence — the scream cut short.
He blinked hard.
The memory retreated, but the ache remained.
Same helplessness,Same rage.
The face was gone, but the fear — raw, unrelenting — lingered.
His breath hitched.
The girl in his memory had worn the same frightened expression Meera had yesterday.
Same frozen stillness.
Same helpless waiting.
A cold realization struck him —
He wasn't just protecting Meera.
He was trying to rewrite a past he had failed to save.
His grip tightened on the phone until his knuckles whitened.
No one takes someone from me again.
HER POV
Meera barely slept.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw unfamiliar faces stepping out of a black car.
Her room felt too quiet. Too exposed.
She finally drifted into shallow sleep just before dawn.
When she woke, her phone buzzed softly.
Unknown:
You reached home safely yesterday.
Her heart skipped.
She knew who it was.
Her fingers hovered before replying.
Meera:
Yes… thank you for asking.
Three dots appeared.
Paused.
Then disappeared.
No reply.
Still, warmth curled gently in her chest.
She didn't know when a simple "Are you safe?" had started meaning so much.
The thought lingered as she got dressed, brushed her hair, packed her books — small ordinary moments now carrying a quiet glow she couldn't explain.
She caught herself smiling faintly at nothing and quickly wiped it away, embarrassed by her own thoughts.
It was ridiculous.
And yet… comforting.
Meera exhaled softly and shook her head, gently nudging the warmth back into its quiet corner of her mind.
She couldn't afford to get lost in feelings that didn't make sense yet.
Slipping her phone into her bag, she adjusted the strap on her shoulder and stepped out, locking the door behind her.
The morning air brushed against her face as she made her way toward the gate, grounding herself with each step.
After some time ,she reached..
And she felt that campus felt oddly sharper that morning.
Sounds louder,Movement quicker,Shadows longer.
Meera tried to ignore the crawling sensation along her spine until she spotted him near the staircase.
Adrian.
Just standing there — calm, unreadable, solid.
Her breath eased without her permission.
Their eyes met.
Something settled quietly inside her.
He walked toward her.
"You should avoid the back gate for a while," he said.
She frowned slightly. "Why?"
"Maintenance work is going on. It's even more risky for you to go from there."
A lie — gentle, protective.
"Oh… okay."
A pause lingered.
"You didn't sleep well," he added.
She blinked. "How did you—"
"You look tired."
Her lips curved faintly. "You noticed again."
"Yes."
That single word carried something steady beneath it.
A brief silence settled between them before the passing crowd gently nudged them forward.
Without a word, they fell into step beside each other, moving toward the campus café.
The low hum of conversation and the clink of cups drifted through the open doors ahead, wrapping the walkway in warm, ordinary noise.
Meera slowed slightly near the entrance, adjusting the strap of her bag as the scent of coffee filled the air.
Students filtered in and out of the café, the door swinging open and shut in a steady rhythm.
Warm air brushed past them each time it opened, carrying soft laughter and the hiss of steaming milk.
For a moment, the world narrowed to the small space they shared near the entrance — unspoken, suspended, quietly aware.
Their shoulders brushed — a fleeting touch, gone almost as soon as it happened.
Yet the space between them felt suddenly charged, as if the air itself had shifted.
Meera inhaled quietly, steadying herself.
Adrian went still.
HIS POV:
He felt the shift before it happened — the subtle pull of space closing between them.
Her warmth brushed the edge of his sleeve.
Not quite contact.
Close enough to register.
Close enough to matter.
His body adjusted instinctively, angling just slightly toward her — a silent shield against the press of strangers.
The flicker of her smile hit him harder than it should have.
For a split second, it wasn't Meera standing in front of him.
It was smaller hands slipping from his grasp.
Wide eyes shining with trust.
A voice trembling in the dark.
Gone.
His chest tightened sharply, breath catching before he forced it steady.
He shifted his position without thinking, angling his body slightly in front of Meera as students moved past them. His eyes swept the glass panels, the polished railings, every reflected surface.
Instinct never faded.
That's when he caught it.
A man leaning too casually against the railing ahead — phone lifted at the wrong angle, lens tilted just enough.
Tracking.
Adrian's gaze snapped to him.
Cold,Unblinking.
A silent warning passed between them.
The man stiffened, color draining from his face before he lowered the phone and turned away, disappearing into the crowd.
Adrian released a slow breath.
When he turned back, Meera was watching him, curiosity softening her features.
"Everything okay?" she asked gently.
"Yes," he replied evenly.
But the truth stayed locked behind his ribs.
The past wasn't done with him.
HER POV:
Something about Adrian felt… heavier today.
Not dangerous but burdened.
She didn't know why the thought came to her, but it lingered.
"Adrian," she said hesitantly.
He looked at her.
"Thank you… for yesterday. You didn't have to help me."
A quiet beat passed.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"You're welcome," he said finally.
But his eyes held something deeper — something old and aching.
It made her chest tighten in ways she didn't understand.
The campus around her blurred into a low hum of footsteps and muted chatter.
Somewhere nearby, a black car idled quietly, half-hidden by the crowd.
Her gaze flicked toward it, unaware of how closely someone was watching every move.
A sharp vibration buzzed through the air, faint but insistent, cutting through the background noise.
He pulled the phone from his pocket and her eyes narrowing at the glowing screen.
HIS POV:
His phone vibrated .
The screen lit up: "You can't protect her."
After reading meassage -
He noticed the same black car Meera had glanced at earlier, tucked partially behind the crowd.
Movement inside the tinted windows.
Shadows shifting.
Too deliberate to be coincidence.
A cold pulse of instinct ran through him.
She was being watched.
His jaw tightened.
Every step he took positioned him subtly between her and the vehicle, a silent shield.
Phone vibrated again.
UNKNOWN:
"You can't protect her forever."
Adrian's jaw tightened while reading the message .
Every instinct he had honed over years of controlling situations screamed at him: she was being watched.
A part of him wanted to step forward, confront whoever was inside the car.
Another part — the part that had learned restraint too young — told him to wait, observe, calculate.
He couldn't let anything happen to her — not this time.
That helplessness… he wouldn't feel it again.
Not for her.
His grip on the phone tightened, knuckles whitening.
This time, he promised silently, nothing would slip away.