Chapter 5 She's Cornered
804 Words
Sera’s POV
I tell myself I’m imagining it.
The way his eyes find me when I cross the quad. The way I catch a glimpse of his broad shoulders leaning against a wall, like he’s been waiting for me to walk by. The way I feel his stare even when I don’t see him.
It’s paranoia, I whisper. Nothing more.
But my gut knows better.
Dante Moretti has decided I’m his new project.
And once someone’s on his radar, they don’t get off it.
By evening, my nerves are shredded. The library is supposed to be my safe space, the one place on campus where I can breathe.
No loud teammates, no shallow girls snapping selfies, no Moretti. Just me, my notes, and the quiet hum of fluorescent lights.
I pick a corner table, tuck my knees under the chair, and spread out my music theory assignment. Chord progressions, intervals, cadences, safe, predictable things. If I can bury myself in homework, maybe I can forget the storm-grey eyes that pinned me in class.
I’m halfway through a messy staff of notation when a chair scrapes against the floor.
My shoulders tense.
No. Not here. Not now.
I force myself to look up, praying it’s anyone else.
It isn’t.
Dante Moretti drops into the seat across from me like he owns it. Like he owns me. His hoodie is unzipped, sleeves pushed up, revealing tanned forearms dusted with scars. His cap is tilted low, but his smirk is bright as sin.
My pulse slams into overdrive. “What are you doing here?” I hiss.
“Studying.” He leans back, arms spread wide, eating up space. “With you.”
I yank my notebook closer, glaring. “I said no.”
“You did.” His grin deepens. “And I didn’t hear a good reason.”
“You don’t need one. No is enough.”
His grey eyes glint like steel catching sunlight. “Not to me.”
The librarian passes by, shooting him a look. Dante only smiles wider, flashing the dimple that makes half the campus swoon. She blushes and walks on.
Of course. Even authority bends for him.
I grit my teeth and bend back over my assignment, scribbling furiously. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll get bored.
But he doesn’t.
His fingers reach across the table, brushing the edge of my notes. “These are neat. Colour-coded. Cute.”
I snatch them back. “Touch my stuff again and I’ll break your hand.”
His laugh is low, rough, like gravel and smoke. “God, I love the bite on you.”
“Stop following me.”
“I wasn’t following you.” He shrugs. “I was just headed to the library. And lucky me, here you are.”
I slam my pen down. “What do you want, Moretti?”
His grin fades. His eyes lock on mine, sharp and unrelenting. “You know what I want. You’re going to tutor me.”
“No.”
“Say it again,” he murmurs, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “Say it like you believe it.”
My throat tightens. I hate that part of me is trembling, not with fear, but something hotter, something that makes me weak.
“I don’t believe in fixing people’s problems for them,” I snap. “You failed. Deal with it.”
His smile returns, slow and dangerous. “That’s the thing, Sera. I don’t deal with losing.”
The room around us hums with quiet chatter and the shuffle of papers. But it feels like we’re in our own little cage, locked in a battle neither of us will surrender.
“You think you scare me?” I whisper.
“No.” His gaze drags over my face, down to my lips. “I think I excite you.”
Heat explodes in my cheeks. “You’re delusional.”
“Am I?” He leans closer, close enough that I feel the brush of his breath. “Because I saw the way you looked at me today. Like you were afraid… and curious. Like you wanted to know what it feels like to burn.”
I shove back from the table, heart hammering. “Stay away from me.”
His voice follows me as I sling my bag over my shoulder. “You’ll come around, Sera. And when you do…”
I spin, glaring at him.
His smirk is gone. His eyes are darker, hungrier.
“…you’ll wish you’d said yes sooner.”
I walk fast, almost running, until the night air hits my lungs like a slap. My heart won’t slow down.
No matter how far I get, I can still feel him.
Dante Moretti doesn’t chase girls. He claims them.
And God help me, he’s decided I’m next.
- Writer
