Ghosts don’t sleep
796 Words
Sleep didn’t come easily.
When it did, it came with claws.
Ariella woke with a sharp gasp, her body drenched in sweat, fingers clutching the bedsheet like it could anchor her to reality. Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs.
The dream was the same.
Always the same.
Her mother’s hand slipping from hers.
A gunshot that echoed too loud.
Her name screamed into darkness.
“Ariella—!”
She sat up, chest heaving, eyes burning.
“Stop,” she whispered. “It’s over. You survived.”
But survival didn’t feel like living.
She swung her legs off the bed and went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. In the mirror, a stranger stared back at her.
Same face.
Different soul.
“You’re strong,” she told her reflection. “You didn’t come this far to fall apart over a boy.”
Lucien Black.
The thought alone made her jaw tighten.
By morning, Blackwood Elite College buzzed louder than usual.
Something was off.
Ariella felt it the moment she stepped through the gates—eyes following her with more intensity than before. Whispers grew bolder.
“She ignored him yesterday.”
“Lucien doesn’t like being ignored.”
“She’s finished.”
She ignored them all.
Fear had ruled her once.
Never again
Lucien watched her from the balcony above the courtyard.
He leaned against the rail, eyes tracking her every step. She walked like someone always prepared to run—or fight.
“Still watching the transfer girl?” Kai asked, appearing beside him.
Lucien didn’t look away. “She’s not like the others.”
Kai chuckled. “That’s what you said about—”
Lucien’s jaw clenched. “Don’t.”
Silence fell.
“She doesn’t belong here,” Kai said more quietly.
Lucien’s lips curved slightly. “Neither did we
In class, Ariella kept her head down.
She answered questions when called on, her voice calm, intelligent. Too intelligent. A few students exchanged looks.
Smart.
Pretty.
Silent.
Threatening combination.
Lucien didn’t speak to her.
That bothered her more than it should have.
She told herself it didn’t matter.
Then the teacher announced a group assignment.
“Pairs,” she said. “No complaints.”
Ariella’s stomach dropped.
She felt it before it happened.
“Hayes,” the teacher continued. “Black.”
The room erupted.
“No way.”
Rip
“She’s dead.”
Ariella’s hands clenched into fists.
Lucien turned slowly, his gaze locking onto hers.
“Looks like fate likes irony,” he murmured.
She swallowed hard. “I don’t believe in fate.”
“Good,” he replied. “Neither do I.”
They worked in silence.
At first.
Lucien was surprisingly focused, his intelligence sharp, his mind quick. It unsettled her. She had expected arrogance. Carelessness.
Not this.
“You’re good,” she admitted quietly without looking at him.
He smirked. “So are you.”
Their eyes met.
For half a second, something fragile bloomed between them.
Then she pulled away.
“I want to get this done quickly.”
He tilted his head. “Running from me?”
“I’m running from complications.”
His gaze softened—dangerously. “Sometimes complications are worth it.”
Her chest tightened.
She stood abruptly. “I need air.”
She didn’t wait for his response.
She ended up on the rooftop.
It was quiet there. Wind brushed against her face, cool and honest. She gripped the railing, breathing deeply.
“You always run when things get real?”
She turned sharply.
Lucien stood by the door.
“How did you
“I know all the quiet places,” he said simply.
She laughed bitterly. “Of course you do.”
They stood in silence, the city stretching beyond the school walls.
“You’re broken,” he said suddenly.
Her body went rigid.
“And you’re pretending you’re not.”
That hurt.
“Stop,” she whispered. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know what it looks like to carry ghosts,” he replied. “Trust me.”
She shook her head, tears burning behind her eyes. “Don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Make me feel seen.”
His expression changed.
Serious.
“Too late.”
Her breath caught.
For the first time in years, Ariella felt something terrifying.
Hope.
And hope was dangerous.
Because it meant she had something to lose.
That night, she cried.
Not loud.
Not messy.
Just quiet tears soaking into her pillow.
Because the closer she got to Lucien Black, the harder it became to remember why she came to Blackwood in the first place.
And somewhere deep inside her, a voice whispered:
What if he’s part of the truth you’re running from?
- Writer
