Chapter 1
Lily's POV........
"Aaahh!" I squeked as a beam of golden light from my window peeked inside just ovr m face.
I opened my eyes slowly...... Very slowly
Suddenly, my door opened and Rose came full of energy and joy.
*Wooooo" You won't believe me sis but you have successfully got admitted in the 'Imperial College London'!!!!!!!!!!
My eyes widened,shining....but suddenly dims.
Rolling my eyes "Don't joke Rose! It's not funny at all"
"What!?"She grabs my hands tighter and spins around.
She nodded sincerely and hopefully.
" Really? ", I murmur
"Yeah really! Girl you made it! Start packing for mw lfe, new country and. ..... new people"
I pcked up m phone and checked.....
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Wwwowwow!! It's amazing, my dream came true!! It's TRUE!!!
...................................
I am going to my college, I am bit scared but excited too.I went inside.
"Physics lab........ Lecture hall..... Library... " Murmuring under my voice as i read the boards above doors trying to find architecture lecture class.
ihe university is beautiful, really...... The old walls like castle, big halls with dim lightnings and a huge green gardens.
"The weather is quite rude today. "I said as i looked a the dark cloudy sky.
The morning sky was a beautiful, bruised canvas of heavy grey clouds, and I was so completely mesmerized by it that I forgot to look where my feet were going. I was trying to memorize the exact shade of the horizon, desperately clinging to anything that felt familiar on my very first day of college.
Then, the world abruptly stopped.
Oof.
My forehead connected with what felt like a solid brick wall wrapped in expensive cotton. The impact knocked the breath right out of my lungs, and my binders slipped from my grip, scattering across the pavement. I stumbled back, rubbing my sore nose, a hot wave of embarrassment already flooding my cheeks.
"I am so, so sorry, I wasn't looking—" I began, my voice trailing off as I finally looked up. And up.
He didn't move an inch. He just stood there, towering over me like a dark, stormy weather front of his own.
He was breathtakingly handsome, but in a way that made you want to take a step back. His dark hair was a wild, messy tangle, as if he’d just ridden a motorcycle through a gale or simply couldn't be bothered to brush it. But it was his eyes that trapped me—a piercing, icy grey that seemed to cut right through the campus fog. His jaw was clenched so tightly a small muscle ticked in his cheek, radiating a harsh, quiet fury that made my pulse spike.
He looked down at me, his gaze sweeping over my scattered papers and then back to my face. He didn't offer a hand. He didn't even speak. He just exhaled a sharp, irritated breath, the mystery of who he was hanging heavy in the air between us, before he stepped right past me, leaving me frozen on the concrete.
The icy grey eyes snapped back to me, narrowing so fast I almost regretted opening my mouth. But the embarrassment had burned off, leaving behind a sudden, stubborn spark of annoyance.
"I said sorry", I repeated, crossing my arms over my chest to keep from trembling under his intense stare. "Which usually means you’re supposed to say something back. An 'it’s okay,' or maybe a 'let me help you with those books you just knocked over'?"
The corner of his mouth twitched, but not into a smile. It was more like a dark, amused sneer. He looked at me like I was a strange, microscopic bug that had just dared to buzz in his ear. The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating, before he finally spoke.
"You ran into me," he said.
His voice was a low, gravelly baritone that sent an unexpected shiver right down my spine. "I don't apologize for standing still."
I opened my mouth to snap back, but then my eyes flicked to the watch on my wrist. Oh, no. I had exactly four minutes before my first official university class started. Fighting with a moody, gorgeous stranger wasn't going to get me a passing grade.
I swallowed my pride, cleared my throat, and tried to force my voice into something resembling polite.
"Right. said," I muttered, quickly bending down to scoop up my scattered binders. I stood back up, clutching them to my chest like a shield. "Anyways... could you please tell me the way to the architecture lecture hall?"
For a second, the harsh lines of his jaw tightened even more. He stared at me as if I had just asked him to explain the secrets of the universe rather than a simple campus layout. He looked down at the architecture textbooks clutched against my chest, and a strange, unreadable flash crossed his piercing grey eyes.
"The architecture hall?" he repeated. His tone was flat, but there was a sharp edge to it now.
"Yes," I said, lifting my chin, trying to sound a lot more confident than I felt. "Unless navigating a map is too much to ask along with an apology."
A slow, dangerous smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn't a friendly expression; it was the look of a predator watching a creature walk straight into a trap. He took a single, deliberate step closer, crowding my space until I could smell the faint, crisp scent of cedar wood and rain on his jacket.
"You're late," he murmured, his grey eyes locked onto mine.
"I know I'm late" I shot back, my heart doing a nervous flutter against my ribs. "That's why I'm asking for directions."
He didn't point toward a path, and he didn't give me a room number. Instead, he simply turned on his heel, his messy dark hair shifting in the breeze, and started walking down the concrete path toward a towering gray stone building in the distance.
"Hey! Are you going to answer me or just walk away again?" I called out, exasperated.
He didn't stop, but he threw a cold look back over his shoulder.
"If you want to make it to the lecture before the doors lock, I suggest you start walking, freshman," he said, his gravelly voice carrying easily over the morning wind. "And try looking at the pavement this time instead of the clouds."
. I planted my feet firmly on the concrete, refusing to budge. If he thought he could just drop a vague riddle and walk away while my entire academic future hung in the balance, he had another thing coming.
"Hey!" I yelled after him, my voice cracking slightly with frustration. "Where am I even supposed to go? I don't know this campus, so currently, I can't walk in any direction!"
He stopped. For a moment, his broad shoulders tensed under his jacket, and I wondered if he was just going to ignore me and keep moving. But slowly, deliberately, he turned back around. He sighed, a heavy, impatient sound, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
"Are you always this helpless?" he asked, his grey eyes narrowing as he looked at me from down the path.
"I am not helpless," I snapped, taking a few hurried steps toward him to close the gap, though I made sure to stop a safe distance away. "I am lost. There’s a difference. It’s my first day, and you're acting like I should intuitively know where 'Lecture Hall B' is just by looking at the trees."
He let out a short, dark laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "It's not in the trees. It's in the building right behind me."
I blinked, looking past his shoulder at the massive, imposing stone structure.
"Oh," I muttered, the wind completely taken out of my sails. My cheeks flared with heat again. "Well... you could have just said that."
"I told you to start walking," he pointed out, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly baritone that made my stomach do a weird, uninvited flip. "You were just too busy arguing to follow."
He turned back toward the building, but this time, he slowed his pace just a fraction—barely noticeable, but enough that I didn't have to run to keep up.
"Are you going there too?" I asked, hurrying to walk a step behind him, still clutching my binders like life jackets.
"Unfortunately," he muttered, not looking at me.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means"
he said, throwing a sharp, piercing glance over his shoulder that made my breath catch, "that my morning was perfectly quiet until you crashed into me."
I scoffed, picking up my pace until I was walking right beside him, even if his long strides meant I had to take two steps for every one of his.
"So you mean to follow you?" I said, looking up at his sharp profile. "I thought you were just going without helping! You aren't exactly the king of clear communication."
His jaw tightened again, the muscle ticking under his skin. He didn't look at me, keeping his eyes fixed on the heavy glass doors of the architecture building ahead.
"And don't blame me for crashing your morning," I added, gaining a sudden burst of courage. "If you hadn't been standing in the middle of the walkway like a giant statue, I would have glided right past you. It was a mutual collision."
That actually made him stop. Right on the steps of the building, he halted and turned his full attention to me. The grey piercing eyes locked onto mine, so intense it felt like he was reading the fine print of my soul.
"A mutual collision?" he repeated, a dangerous, mocking edge to his voice. He took a half-step closer, towering over me on the stairs. "You had your head in the clouds, freshman. I was walking a straight line."
"Well, your straight line intersected with my cloud-watching," I countered, refusing to back down, even though my heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
He stared at me for three long, agonizing seconds. The harshness in his face didn't fade, but a tiny hint of something else—amusement, maybe, or just sheer disbelief that I was talking back to him—flickered in his eyes.
"You're ridiculous," he muttered, turning around and pulling open the heavy door. He held it with one large hand, looking down at me. "Are you coming inside, or do you want to stay out here and argue with the weather?"
I scoffed, picking up my pace until I was walking right beside him, even if his long strides meant I had to take two steps for every one of his.
"So you mean to follow you?" I said, looking up at his sharp profile. "I thought you were just going without helping! You aren't exactly the king of clear communication."
His jaw tightened again, the muscle ticking under his skin. He didn't look at me, keeping his eyes fixed on the heavy glass doors of the architecture building ahead.
"And don't blame me for crashing your morning," I added, gaining a sudden burst of courage. "If you hadn't been standing in the middle of the walkway like a giant statue, I would have glided right past you. It was a mutual collision."
That actually made him stop. Right on the steps of the building, he halted and turned his full attention to me. The grey piercing eyes locked onto mine, so intense it felt like he was reading the fine print of my soul.
"A mutual collision?" he repeated, a dangerous, mocking edge to his voice. He took a half-step closer, towering over me on the stairs. "You had your head in the clouds, freshman. I was walking a straight line."
"Well, your straight line intersected with my cloud-watching," I countered, refusing to back down, even though my heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
He stared at me for three long, agonizing seconds. The harshness in his face didn't fade, but a tiny hint of something else—amusement, maybe, or just sheer disbelief that I was talking back to him—flickered in his eyes.
"You're ridiculous," he muttered, turning around and pulling open the heavy door. He held it with one large hand, looking down at me. "Are you coming inside, or do you want to stay out here and argue with the weather?"
My jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
I stood there, frozen in my pool of absolute mortification, while the professor’s entire demeanor completely flipped. The harsh, welcoming-to-college scowl evaporated from his face, replaced by a warm, almost respectful smile.
"Morning, Ethan," the professor said, his voice echoing through the microphone, entirely ignoring me now. "What are you doing in a junior lecture? You should probably be over at the senior wing. Anyways, since you came, I'd say it's very nice to see you after a few days."
Ethan. So that was his name.
And more importantly—he was a senior?
I cut a sharp glance sideways at him. Ethan didn't even blink. He didn't look embarrassed, he didn't offer a polite smile, and he certainly didn't look like a student who had just been caught walking into the wrong room ten minutes late. He just stood there with his hands shoved back into his pockets, his jaw relaxed but his grey eyes completely unreadable.
"Just dropping off a stray, Professor Vance," Ethan said. His low, gravelly baritone carried effortlessly across the silent room.
A few students in the front rows giggled, and my face flared into a heat so intense I thought I might actually combust. A stray? He was talking about me.
Professor Vance looked at me, then back at Ethan, a knowing, amused look crossing his face. "Ah. I see. Well, I suppose I can forgive her tardiness if she was under your guidance, Ethan. Find a seat quickly, young lady."
"Thank you," I squeaked out, my voice barely audible.
I didn't wait another second. I practically bolted up the carpeted stairs of the tiered lecture hall, looking for the first empty seat I could find. My heart was pounding against my ribs, a mix of leftover adrenaline and sheer annoyance.
Before I slid into a row near the middle, I couldn't stop myself. I paused and looked back down at the front of the lecture hall.
Ethan was still standing near the door. As if he felt my eyes on him, he tilted his head up. His piercing grey eyes locked right onto mine through the dim light of the auditorium. The corner of his mouth twitched into that same slow, dangerous smirk from the courtyard—the one that told me he knew exactly what effect he had.
With a careless nod to the professor, he turned on his heel, pushed the heavy double doors open, and disappeared into the hallway, leaving me completely overwhelmed on my very first day.
I quickly slid into the empty seat, pulling my binders close to my chest as if they could shield me from the lingering stares of the room. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, my face feeling like it was on fire.
"Hi, I’m Emma," a whispered voice hissed from the seat right next to me.
I turned my head to see a girl with a bright halo of blonde curls and a pair of overly wide, excited eyes staring at me. She leaned in so close I could smell her strawberry lip gloss.
"By the way," Emma continued, her voice a rapid, hushed undertone, "you are officially the most unlucky girl on this campus.
"How so? "I flatly asked.
"Because where every other girl here wants the most handsome and wealthy Ethan’s attention, you just got a pitiful, uninterested glance from him."
I blinked, momentarily thrown off by her bluntness. Wealthy? Uninterested glance? If only she knew he had practically dragged me here like an annoying stray puppy.
"Huh," I muttered, leaning back in my seat and flipping open my notebook with a loud thwack.
"I don't care, really."
"Realy? "
Emma gasped softly, her eyes widening even further. "You don't care? Um, hello? That was Ethan Wright! His family practically owns half the architecture firms in the city, not to mention he’s the top senior in the department. He ignores everyone. The fact that he even walked you to the door is a miracle, even if he did look completely annoyed by your existence."
"Well, he should be annoyed," I whispered back, gripping my pen a little too tightly. "He's arrogant, rude, and he completely refused to apologize when we collided outside. I don't care how handsome or rich he is. He has the personality of a wet brick."
Emma looked at me like I had just blasphemed in a holy place. "Oh, wow. You really are brave. Just a fair warning, freshman—girls have tried the 'I hate you' tactic to get his attention before. It never works. He just looks right through them."
"Good thing I'm not using a tactic," I said, finally turning my eyes to the front of the room as Professor Vance began writing on the chalkboard.
"I genuinely hope I never have to see his piercing grey eyes ever again."
But even as I said the words, my eyes involuntarily flicked back toward the heavy double doors at the bottom of the lecture hall. The phantom scent of cedar wood and rain still seemed to linger in the air, and a strange, nervous shiver rippled through me. I had a terrible, sinking feeling that my collision with Ethan Wright was only the beginning.
