Ciro's P.O.V.
I pushed open the door to the café.
By now, I could practically find Kenan by scent alone. I'd gotten that used to him. Not that it was my fault. He had no control over his pheromones.
Sure enough, he was tucked into the back corner, sipping black coffee like he owned the place. His eyes were on his phone, but they flicked up the second I stepped in.
The scowl on his face was impossible to miss. I mentally sighed. Kenan was a perfectionist who hated when things didn't go according to plan. I was late, and I'd been avoiding him for days. I was definitely in for an earful.
"Hmm. If it isn't Ciro Asel."
"And if it isn't Kenan Soren," I replied dryly, sliding into the seat across from him.
"Someone would swear I stole something from you, the way you've been avoiding me."
Yes, you did steal something from me, you untrained human.
But I couldn't say that.
"I caught a cold," I lied quickly. "Didn't want to get you sick."
Even I winced at how weak that sounded.
Kenan raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that something you're supposed to tell someone?" His tone was irritated, clipped.
"I meant to," I said, trying to sound convincing. "I was just... really out of it."
"Right... Sure. I believe you," he muttered, clearly not buying it.
Then he looked me dead in the eyes.
"Do we have a problem, Ciro?"
I looked around the room like I was actually thinking. "I don't think we have a problem, Kenan."
"Someone stood me up twice this week." His voice was a little too loud.
People glanced at us as they passed by.
"Keep your voice down," I hissed. "Someone might get the wrong idea. And for the record, I wasn't lying, I really wasn't feeling well."
"I'll try to believe that lie. What are we doing about our assignment?" Kenan snapped.
"Well, we need to get the ingredients first and—"
He cut me off.
So rude.
"I know that, Ciro. I only called you here because someone couldn't bother to answer a simple message."
Right. He did send me a few messages. Messages I didn't read. Or reply to. I was too caught up in my own unnecessary internal meltdown over a small thing.
I sighed. "It won't happen again. What did the message say?"
"That we'd meet at my place to work on the assignment this Saturday."
"You called me all the way here for that?" I said, annoyed.
"Of course I called you for that! You weren't answering your messages," he whisper-shouted.
I bit my tongue.
He was right.
I had been in the wrong. I needed to pull myself together. Our grade actually mattered, and I could jeopardize that by acting like an emotional wreck.
Sighing, I rubbed the back of my neck.
"I have a class to get to in the next twenty minutes," I said. "I need to head out."
I picked up my bag, avoiding Kenan's eyes.
"Just send me your address." I added, turning to leave before I could change my mind.
I needed to get it together. Fast.
As I made my way to class, I found myself walking alongside Jacob, who looked more grumpy than usual,if that was even possible.
"So... both our days aren't looking too great, huh?" I said, trying to lighten the mood with a small smile.
Jacob grunted in response. That was about as social as he ever got.
I tried to focus on the task at hand. A new project had just been assigned, and I needed a model for it. I was already behind after all the emotional chaos of this week, and falling further wasn't an option.
The project? Design a piece of Victorian-era clothing, explain its historical inspiration, and present it with a model in full costume.
Fun.
Well... it would've been fun if I wasn't spiraling internally and using all my energy pretending everything was fine.
Still, the moment the assignment was explained, a design had already started forming in my head and clean lines, regal fabrics, high collars, dramatic sleeves... something elegant and bold.
And for the model?
Kenan.
I wasn't sure he'd agree. Actually, I was almost certain he'd look at me like I'd grown a second head. But honestly, he fit the aesthetic. He had that aristocratic vibe: tall, sharp features, cold expressions that could cut glass. He looked like he belonged in a portrait hanging in a 19th-century ballroom.
I just needed his face. And body. Strictly for academic purposes, of course.
After everything this week and me ghosting him for the week, the kiss, my minor mental spiral, I had to remind myself it was an accident. We were just "friends" for the sake of a class project. Nothing more.
Once I told myself that, I felt a little less insane.
I made my way to my usual spot in the library, unsure if Kenan would even show up today after everything that happened this week. So, I came early an entire hour ahead just to avoid him.
To my surprise, he was already there. But he wasn't alone.
He was sitting with Meeka and she was in my usual seat .
Class president of O10. I only knew her from seeing her at social events. We barely spoke, just exchanged the occasional glance or polite nod.
I paused mid-step, debating whether to turn around and sit somewhere else. Eventually, I decided to do just that. Let them have their moment. I mean, who wants to be the awkward third wheel? No one likes a cockblocker.
If I sat beside them, it'd feel like I was inserting myself into something I wasn't invited to.
Unfortunately, they had already noticed me.
My new seat was behind my usual spot, which meant I had to walk right past them. I'd already cursed myself a few times in my head, but I confidently strode past like nothing was wrong.
As if Kenan couldn't read a room.
"Where are you going, Ciro?" he asked, loud enough for Meeka to hear.
I mean my seat is taken even though there is a chair right beside him.
I stopped dead in my tracks and let out a heavy exhale I didn't even know I was holding in.
"What do you want, Kenan?"
"So you're sitting in your usual?" he asked, clearly amused.
"Of course I am ," I said coolly. "I was going to look for a book."
It was a lie, obviously. But I played it off, heading to a desk and dropping my stuff before scurrying to hide in the farthest corner of a random bookshelf aisle. I stayed there for a few minutes, pretending to search through titles I didn't care about, before eventually returning to my new seat.
But my stuff was not where I left it and I knew the only perpetrator was Kenan . I looked at where he was and no surprise it was there. His focus was on the device from him. I rolled my eyes today I choose peace and he choose the opposite
Giving up I made my way to Kenan and pulled a chair out. I sat right beside him. I looked at meeka and she was already staring so I gave her a brief greeting before returning my attention to the stuff in front of me.
I was secretly hoping Meeka would've left by then. But no. She was still there. Looking more comfortable than ever. I didn't say anything because there wasn't much to say.
Kenan was the first to break the silence.
"No luck?"
"What?" I asked, confused.
"No luck finding what you were looking for?" he clarified.
I rolled my eyes. "Well, clearly I didn't find anything, did I?" I snapped, my voice laced with irritation.
Surprised by my sudden outburst.
Kenan tilted his head, eyebrows raised. "You're seriously acting like I did something wrong."
I looked at him annoyed at his assumptions "I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to," he muttered.
Shouldn't he be studying but he is always harassing me when it is supposed to be quiet and calm. I pulled out my sketch book and looked at the design I came up with from early . It was close to what I had envisioned but it was not quite there yet and deserve more detailing.
Since I plan on using Kenan as a model though he is not aware of the fact I glance at him. I already had a color in mind that would match him well. Gold and white. Though I wonder how I will match it off.
I planned to ask him today but seeing as their was extra company I decided to ask when we meet up.
It was louder than usual and I figured it was because meeka was there .Kenan was being more talkative than ever before.
I was eavesdropping on their conversation but it was not worth my attention so I blurred it out and began studying.
I was researching for my presentation for the Victorian era. So I opened back my book and continued with my newfound ideas.
Kenan asked, "Is that your sketchbook?"
My fingers tightened around it. "I guess it is " I said looking at the two new sketches
He leaned slightly forward, interested. "What are you doing with these designs?"
"For a project that was assigned" I said skimming through those pages.
Running out of ideas I frustratingly said "I need a model," I said without thinking. "Someone who can pull off the look."
"And you thought hiding in the bookshelf would help you find one?"
With a frown on my face "I wasn't hiding"
Kenan leaned back with that stupid smirk of his, like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Meeka, who had been blissfully silent for a whole minute, suddenly piped up.
"Oh, are you doing fashion design too? I thought you were in the science program."
Her voice was all sugar. And to my surprise, I learned something new: we actually shared the same major. I'd never seen her in any of my classes though, so I figured our schedules never clashed.
She leaned in slightly, her eyes flicking to my sketchbook.
"Well, if you ever need help , I'd be happy to assist. I love old European aesthetics. I went through a princess phase once."
Of course she did.
Kenan chuckled under his breath like she'd just said the cleverest thing in the world.
"Sounds like you've found your model, Ciro," he said, clearly enjoying himself.
I gave him a flat stare. "I doubt she has time to model."
I could choke him right now.
Meeka giggled, either ignoring or genuinely missing the sarcasm.
"I don't think I'd fit the vibe," she added humbly.
Thank God.
"But Kenan totally looks like he could be in one of those eras. He's got the face for it."
I know.
Of course I know.
I like people-watching, don't I?
I stared at her.
She stared at him.
He smiled.
Ew
The air between me and her shifted—thick, awkward, and charged in all the worst ways. I hated it.
"So," I blurted out, trying to reset the tone, "you guys have your theme assign already?"
Meeka looked a little surprised that I'd asked her directly.
"Yeah, it's different from the general ones. Ours is based on Italy and how it's influenced modern fashion."
"That sounds interesting. Have you started designing yet?"
She shook her head. "Not really. I wanted to build the design around the model and Kenan came to mind first, so I asked. Thankfully, he said yes."
So that's why she was here.
She beat me to it.
My whole plan was unknowingly ruined.
I turned to Kenan, trying not to look as deflated as I felt.
"You're modeling for her? Make sure not to scare her too much," I said, flatly.
Kenan gave me a small nod, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back another smart remark.
I slumped into my chair, the weight of disappointment settling in my chest. I'd built the entire concept around him; his features, his build, the way gold and white would bring out his skin tone. Now I had nothing.
That was my fault but it's okay there's more fish in the sea
But it's fine. Not all plans work out.
I pulled out my sketchbook again, flipping to a blank page, ready to start over.
That was, until Meeka added cheerfully, "If you ever need a backup model I am sure Kenan wouldn't mind"
My pencil paused mid-line.
I smiled at her "Sure," I said. "If I ever get desperate."
She laughed, thinking it was a joke. Kenan raised a brow at me, and I went right back to drawing, ignoring the way the pit in my stomach just got a little deeper.
"I hope you do get desperate then" Kenan said rolling his eyes.
But I was already desperate I said to myself.