I left ten minutes earlier than usual.Didn't grab my usual vanilla latte from the café downstairs. Didn't wait by the oak tree near his department building like I always do. Didn't even let myself glance at the dorm he shares with Luca.
I walked fast. Like if I kept moving, my feelings couldn't catch up.
Like if I didn't see him, I could pretend he didn't leave me standing there on that rooftop. Silent. Stupid. Small.
"Miss Crestwood," my professor nods as I slip into my morning lecture. I give her the brightest, most fake smile I can manage and head straight for the third row, far left — not my usual seat. I'm off-routine. On purpose.
I sit. I open my laptop. I pretend to be fine.
But I'm not.
My heart still clenches when I think of him. My throat still tightens at the memory of his eyes — wide, caught off guard — the second I said those words.I love you.
I'd practiced that line a thousand times in my head.I didn't expect silence in return.
Someone taps my shoulder mid-lecture. It's Ava. I forgot she had this class with me today. She leans in and whispers, "You look like you haven't slept in three years."
"Thanks," I whisper back, fake-smiling again. "That's the look I was going for."
She narrows her eyes, unimpressed. "Viv—"
"No," I cut her off, eyes fixed on the professor. "Please. Not right now."
She sighs and lets it go. For now.
But I can feel it — the weight in my chest building. Like a dam cracking. I blink rapidly, trying to swallow the emotion that's crawling its way up my throat.
And then, during break, it happens.
I spot him.
Across the quad. Hands in his pockets. Talking to Luca, who looks like he's half-scolding, half-teasing him.
Damien's eyes scan the area, just once — and stop on me.
We freeze.
Two seconds.
Three.
I turn away.
I can't do it. Not today.Not when my heart still feels bruised.
I grab my bag and practically power-walk in the opposite direction, ignoring the way my heart jumps at the sound of him calling out softly—
"Viv."
I don't stop.Not this time.
If he wants to talk, he can chase me for once.
---
Damien's POV
She saw me.I know she did.
Vivienne may have turned away like I was invisible, but I saw the split second her eyes locked onto mine — the way she tensed, the way her steps faltered, like her body wanted to stay even if her brain was screaming run.
And then she ran.
Not literally. But it felt like it.
For the first time in months, she didn't barge into my dorm with coffee and muffins. She didn't text me seventeen heart emojis. She didn't show up to my lecture, sit beside me, and rest her head on my shoulder like I belonged to her.
She didn't do anything.And it's driving me insane.
"She told you she loved you," Luca says beside me, his voice calm but pointed. "You just stood there like a statue. What did you expect?"
I glare at him. "I didn't ask for your commentary."
"No, but you clearly need it."
I tune him out. I've already wasted a day and a half doing what I always do — burying feelings under logic. Hiding behind blank stares and long silences. That's what I do best, right?
Not this time.
Not with her.
I leave mid-conversation, footsteps firm as I cut through the quad. I don't know what I'm going to say. I just know I need to see her.
She's sitting on the library steps. Alone. Her phone's in her hand, but she's not texting. Her gaze is far away — lost in the clouds or the past, maybe both.
I walk up, slow but steady. "Viv."
She flinches.
I sit down beside her.
She doesn't look at me. "Why are you here?"
"Because you weren't."
She snorts. "That's rich."
"I mean it," I say quietly. "You're always there. Every day. You annoy the hell out of me and then make me coffee and smile like the world revolves around me. And then— yesterday— you said it. And I didn't know what to do with it."
She stays silent. I take a breath.
"I've never… had someone like you, Viv."
Her head turns, slowly.
"You terrify me," I admit. "Because you make everything feel so damn real. You're chaos and glitter and coffee and warmth and all I've ever done is push people away. But you— you stayed."
"Not anymore," she says softly.
I look at her. She's trying to stay strong, but I see the glassiness in her eyes. The tight grip she has on her phone, like it's anchoring her.
"Then I'll chase you this time," I say. "I should've done it sooner."
She finally meets my gaze. "Why now?"
"Because the second you walked away, everything felt wrong."I reach for her hand — slowly, letting her choose — and to my surprise, she doesn't pull away.
Her fingers curl into mine, quiet but firm.
I don't say the words yet. Not the ones she deserves. Not until I'm ready to mean them the way she did. But I stay by her side.
This time, I don't let her walk away.