The golden rays of the afternoon sun spilled lazily through the tall windows of the lecture hall, casting warmth on cold desks as students dragged themselves in for the final class.
Elizabeth sat quietly in her usual seat, posture perfect, face carved from marble. Her grey eyes were locked on her notebook, unbothered by the world outside—like always. Cold, silent, untouchable.
And then…
He arrived.
Niklaus Devilson strolled in with that lazy grace of his, shirt slightly unbuttoned, hair shimmering like starlight. Mischief danced in his blue eyes. And trouble? It followed him like a loyal pet.
Without a word, he dropped a small, neatly wrapped box onto her desk. Like it was a bomb.
Elizabeth didn't even blink at first. Then, slowly, she looked down at the box like it had insulted her ancestry.
"...What is this?"
"A gift," he said simply, flashing that grin that could rewrite the laws of physics. "A humble thank-you for our lovely dinner. First official bonding moment as deskmates."
Her brow arched. Elegant. Sharp. Deadly.
"You think this qualifies as bonding?"
"Technically, yes. Emotionally? Well, I think you bonded with my dessert more than me."
She tried to hand it back, but he placed a finger on top of the box, gently pushing it toward her again.
"Come on. It even matches your whole 'ice queen with a dagger stare' vibe."
Elizabeth gave him a flat look. "I don't want it."
Nik leaned closer, voice dropping to a slow, dangerous murmur, thick with amusement and something darker.
"Ellie... if you don't take this gift, I swear I'll stand on this desk and announce, in graphic detail, how you looked at me the first day we met."
She blinked. "...What?"
His smirk grew.
"You know, that slow, deadly up-and-down glance? Like I was the main course at a royal banquet? Yeah. I'll act it out. Even add sound effects. Want gasps? I've been practicing."
Elizabeth stared at him like she was calculating whether murder charges would stick.
"You wouldn't dare."
Nik's voice dropped even lower—smooth and warm, like a knife hidden in silk.
"Try me. I have no fear, ellie. But you? You have a reputation made of glass. All I need is one moment. One sentence. And suddenly, you're the mysterious heiress who tried to seduce the Devilson heir in class. I don't need truth to make people talk. I just need an audience."
Silence fell between them.
His smile never wavered, but his eyes… oh, they gleamed with something dangerous. Something possessive.
She stared at him. And finally—finally—with a muttered curse under her breath, she opened her bag and shoved the box inside like it had offended her.
"Smart girl," he whispered, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. "You'll love it. It screams 'gorgeous and secretly warm-hearted villainess'."
Elizabeth hissed, "You're a menace."
"And you're my favorite threat," he said, sitting back with all the satisfaction of a prince who just won a battle.
She narrowed her eyes. "If you don't shut up, I'm changing seats."
Nik sat straighter, sulking instantly like a child whose candy was stolen. She ignored him, but the corner of her lips twitched—the tiniest crack in her ice.
From the front of the room, Professor Boyer glanced over his glasses at them. His mouth opened as if to say something… then closed again.
He remembered.
—
FLASHBACK: Faculty Lounge
Professor Hargrove stormed in, flustered and red-faced. "That Devilson boy is impossible! He talks during lectures, distracts the Ashford girl, and acts like the whole school belongs to him!"
Dean Callahan didn't even look up from his papers. Calmly, coolly, he said:
"Professor Hargrove, do not engage with Mr. Devilson. Do not punish him. Do not question him. Treat him with the same level of respect you would offer me."
Stunned silence.
"Why?" someone whispered.
The dean met their gaze. "Because he's not someone we can afford to offend."
—
Back in class, Professor Boyer cleared his throat and looked away, pretending not to see Nik casually leaning toward Elizabeth again.
The rest of the lecture dragged like molasses. For Elizabeth, it felt like a hundred years. For Nik? Barely minutes. He kept sneaking glances at her, his blue eyes glowing with playful obsession.
When the bell rang, Elizabeth rose from her seat like a storm breaking free. She moved with precision—flawless, distant, untouchable—as she walked out.
Nik was immediately surrounded.
"Niklaus, dinner tonight?"
"Wanna study together?"
He offered them a smile, the polite kind that said, never gonna happen.
"Sorry, ladies. My deskmate—Ms. Ashford—asked me to walk her to her car. Can't disappoint her. Deskmate bonding, you know?"
He slipped away before the girls could even protest.
Only—Elizabeth was gone.
His eyes scanned the courtyard, a flicker of panic crossing his face. Then he saw her: walking into the garden, alone.
Nik caught up quickly.
"Hey. You left me with a bunch of broken hearts back there."
She didn't slow down. "Why are you following me?"
"Because you make campus walks feel like cinematic moments."
"Try again."
He smirked. "Because I missed you."
"Try harder."
Nik fell into step beside her. "Fine. I came because I want to be your friend."
She stopped walking.
Her grey eyes turned to him, unreadable. "You don't know me."
"That's the point," he said, voice gentle now. Honest. "Let me."
A breeze moved through her hair like a sigh.
"Friends don't flirt like you do," she said softly.
He looked at her with a strange seriousness now—rare, raw.
"Then maybe I'm not planning to stay just a friend."
She stared.
He stepped closer, just enough to let her feel his warmth.
"You're getting ahead of yourself, Mr. Devilson."
"I like where I'm going, Miss Ashford."
She turned away, heart thudding against her ribs like it wanted out.
He didn't follow this time.
He just watched her walk away, the ghost of her warmth still in his chest.
And for once, Niklaus Devilson—who always got what he wanted—realized he was chasing something that might just outrun him.
But God help anyone who tried to stop him.
Because he was already falling.
And he didn't plan on hitting the ground alone.