Maria could barely focus on the chatter around her. Every time Daniel walked into the room, it felt like her whole body betrayed her—her pulse quickened, her thoughts scattered, and even the smallest glance from him felt like it carried a weight she couldn’t shake off.
Daniel, on the other hand, seemed completely in control. He never looked rushed, never seemed flustered. Every smile he threw her way was deliberate, every step closer calculated, like he knew exactly how much he unsettled her.
That afternoon, as the group gathered for their literature project discussion, Maria tried her hardest to keep her eyes on Emeka, who was explaining something in his usual dramatic style. But Daniel chose that exact moment to slide into the seat beside her.
He didn’t touch her. He didn’t even say a word. He just leaned back casually, his arm stretched behind her chair, his presence swallowing up all the space she thought she had.
Maria inhaled slowly, fighting to keep her composure. “Do you have to sit so close?” she whispered without turning.
Daniel’s lips curved into a lazy smile. “Do you have to mind so much?”
She clenched her pen tighter, her heart racing. There was a fire burning quietly between them, dangerous and unspoken, and though no one else in the room seemed to notice, Maria could feel it consuming her inch by inch.
By the time the discussion ended, she wasn’t sure she remembered a single thing Emeka had said. All she knew was Daniel’s voice lingering in her ear as he leaned in just before leaving.
“You’ll stop running one day,” he murmured, his words like sparks brushing against her skin. “And when you do, Maria, don’t be surprised if the fire swallows us both.”
Her chest rose and fell unevenly as he walked away, leaving her with the terrifying realization that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to escape the flames at all.