chapter 5:Not your type right
894 Words
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Azel’s POV
The bell had rung three minutes ago.
Azel was walking fast not rushing, just determined. Her notebook was clutched to her chest like always, pages filled with neat, bullet-pointed order. The hallway was mostly empty now.
Then came the sound a soft thud.
She glanced up in time to see a book slide across the floor, landing near her shoe.
A boy bent down quickly to grab it.
Dark hoodie. Messy curls. Glasses that slipped a little when he moved.
He looked up at her and gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry. It ran off.”
She picked it up first.
Her eyes flicked to the cover.
And stopped.
“You read this?”
He looked almost shy, taking it from her hands carefully. “You know it?”
“It’s one of my favorites.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
The bell rang sharply overhead.
He gave a small, crooked smile. “I’m Liam, by the way.”
Azel paused. “Azel.”
He nodded once. “Nice.”
Then, without dragging it out, he stepped back. “See you around?”
She gave a small shrug and turned to head off to class — but the corners of her mouth tugged up, just slightly.
---
Later that night.
She hadn’t planned to go out.
But Rina had begged, called it a “low-key hang,” promised her it would just be music and snacks and people chilling in corners.
It was none of that.
From the second they stepped through the door, it was chaos.
Bass-heavy music. Red lights. Sweat in the air. Someone already passed out in a beanbag.
Azel froze by the door, arms crossed. Betrayed. Furious.
“Rina,” she hissed. “What is this?”
“A party,” Rina said with a grin. “You said you wanted to feel something different.”
“This isn’t different. It’s stupid.”
Before she could storm out, someone called out:
“You!”
Azel turned.
And blinked.
It was him.
The quiet boy from earlier. The one with the book.
He looked just as surprised to see her. Hoodie again. Hands in his pockets. Eyes wide at the madness around him.
“You’re here too?” she asked, surprised.
He shrugged. “Got dragged in. Cousin’s here.”
Azel let out a slow breath. “Small world.”
And then...
“Didn’t think you’d show up here, princess.”
Her stomach dipped.
She didn’t have to look to know the voice.
Blaze.
He was leaning against the stair rail, red cup in hand, lips pulled into a lazy smirk — like he was already bored, but always watching.
Azel crossed her arms. “Didn’t know this trash pile was yours.”
“Ouch.” He pushed off the rail, walking closer. “You clean up nice for someone who hates being seen.”
“I’m not here for you,” she said, voice sharp.
“I can tell,” Blaze said, flicking his eyes toward Liam beside her. “Quiet type’s more your speed.”
Liam tensed. “We were just talking—”
Blaze ignored him. His eyes stayed locked on Azel.
She crossed her arms tighter and tilted her head slightly, studying him like he was just another page in her notes — one she didn’t quite understand, but couldn’t ignore either.
“You lost,” he asked, “or just pretending you don’t like it here?”
“I’m pretending you’re not talking to me.”
He chuckled. “You’re not as cold as you act.”
“And you’re not as deep as you think.”
That smirk twitched.
“Feisty,” he said. “Let me guess — one sip of that pink drink and you forget how uptight you usually are.”
She took another sip, slower this time. Boldness buzzing low in her chest.
“No,” she said. “Just tired of being polite to people who don’t deserve it.”
He stepped closer, close enough to shift the air between them.
“You sure you’re not just curious?”
“About what?”
“About what it’s like not to follow every rule in that perfect little head of yours.”
Azel didn’t flinch. “You think you’re chaos?”
“I am chaos.”
She tilted her head again, smiling faintly. “You talk like a boy who reads his own graffiti.”
That caught him off guard. His grin widened — real this time.
“You think you’re funny.”
“I know I am.”
Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t empty. It was heat and confusion and maybe... interest.
Then she leaned in slightly — just enough — and whispered, “Careful, Blaze. You keep looking at me like that, and people might think you care.”
He blinked.
And for the first time, he was the one without a comeback.
Azel turned like she was done, but Blaze wasn’t.
He moved just a little closer — so close her shoulder brushed his as she passed.
His voice was low. Rougher.
“You don’t belong here, Azel.”
She stopped walking.
Turned slightly. Met his eyes.
“Maybe I do,” she said quietly. “Just not with you.”
And with that — she was gone.
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- Writer
