VIKTOR
She walked in late.
Not enough to draw a teacher’s scolding, but late enough for the entire class to notice.
Her hair was pulled back like she hadn’t had the energy to tame it. Lips tight, steps controlled. Not a glance in my direction.
Good.
I kept my gaze fixed on the board, but my entire body was aware of her.
The only empty seat was the one next to mine.
Of course it was.
She paused for half a second, like debating whether to walk out and fake a stomach ache. Then she moved—past the rows, past the desks, and dropped her bag with enough force to make a point.
Hostile silence spread between us. I didn’t break it. Neither did she.
I wanted to say something. I didn’t.
Because there was nothing to say that wouldn’t unravel both of us.
The air between us wasn’t just tense.
