WHISPERS ON THE ROOFTOP....
1011 Words
Chapter 2 – Whispers on the Rooftop
Arden couldn’t sleep.
The words Ronan had whispered on the rooftop that night still lingered in her ears like smoke she couldn’t wave away.
“You don’t know me, Vale. But I can’t stop noticing you.”
She lay in bed, staring at the glow of her phone screen as the notifications from her campus group chat buzzed endlessly. Assignments, projects, the upcoming literature showcase—all things she should have been worrying about. Instead, it was Ronan’s voice that wrapped itself around her thoughts like barbed wire and silk all at once.
Arden wasn’t naïve. She knew Ronan Vale’s reputation: the bad boy with the sharp jawline, the kind of boy who made rules just to break them. People whispered about him—suspensions, fights, girls who swore they’d been pulled into his orbit only to come out burned.
And yet… she’d seen something different on the rooftop. A flicker of vulnerability. A glimpse of a boy hiding behind venom, masking scars she didn’t understand.
Arden hugged her pillow tighter. “You’re trouble,” she muttered under her breath. Trouble that somehow made her heart race in ways it shouldn’t.
Morning came in a blur of half-dreams and restless tossing. By the time her alarm screeched at 7:00 a.m., Arden already felt like she’d been awake for hours. She dragged herself out of bed, tied her dark hair into a messy bun, and threw on a beige sweater with her favorite worn jeans. No makeup—just lip balm. She didn’t have the energy to play dress-up for the world today.
At the campus café, the bitter scent of coffee wrapped around her like comfort. Arden ordered her usual—an iced latte with a splash of vanilla—and carried it to her usual spot near the window. She pulled out her notebook, determined to focus on her essay draft, when a voice broke her concentration.
“Late night?”
Ezra leaned against the table, a smirk tugging at his lips. His golden-brown hair caught the morning sun, his posture effortlessly confident as if he were born to draw eyes without trying.
Arden blinked. “Do I look that bad?”
“You look… thoughtful,” Ezra said, sliding into the seat across from her without asking. “Which is unusual for someone who usually attacks her notes like they’re life or death.”
Arden rolled her eyes. “Maybe I just didn’t sleep.”
“Hmm.” Ezra studied her, his smirk softening into something gentler. “Something keeping you up? Or… someone?”
Arden’s heart skipped a beat, panic tightening her chest. She shook her head too quickly. “It’s nothing. Just stress.”
Ezra didn’t push, though his eyes told her he wasn’t convinced. Instead, he reached over and stole her latte, sipping it before she could stop him. “Too sweet,” he teased. “You’ll rot your teeth before graduation.”
“Get your own,” she muttered, tugging it back, but her lips curved into a reluctant smile. Ezra always had a way of pulling her out of her head, even if it annoyed her.
Their laughter blended with the soft hum of the café until the air shifted. Arden didn’t need to turn around to know why—the weight in the atmosphere, the sudden hush of whispers told her Ronan Vale had walked in.
She looked anyway.
Ronan’s dark hair was slightly damp, as if he hadn’t bothered to dry it after a shower. He wore a black jacket over a plain white shirt, his jeans torn at the knee, boots heavy against the wooden floor. His eyes scanned the room lazily—until they landed on her.
Arden froze.
For a moment, the world held its breath. His gaze was piercing, unreadable, like he was peeling her layers apart with a single look. Then, without a word, he walked past their table, brushed his hand across her chair ever so slightly, and kept going toward the counter.
Ezra noticed. His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing as he followed Ronan’s retreating form. “What the hell was that?”
Arden swallowed, forcing her voice steady. “Nothing. He’s just… Ronan.”
“Exactly,” Ezra said sharply. “And Ronan Vale doesn’t just look at people like that. He’s bad news, Arden. You know that.”
Her throat felt dry. “I can handle myself.”
“Maybe. But he doesn’t play fair.” Ezra leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
Arden hesitated. Her mind flashed back to the rooftop, to Ronan’s voice in the dark, low and almost broken. “You don’t know me, Vale.”
“I’ll… try,” she whispered.
It wasn’t the promise Ezra wanted—but it was the only one she could give.
---
Later that evening, Arden found herself on the rooftop again. She hadn’t planned to go. Her feet had carried her there while her mind screamed at her to turn back. The night air was cool, brushing against her skin like a warning.
And of course, he was there. Ronan leaned against the ledge, cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling around him like a crown.
“Took you long enough,” he said without looking at her.
Arden’s heart jumped. “I wasn’t coming here for you.”
“Sure you weren’t.” He finally turned, his eyes catching the glow of the city lights. A faint smirk ghosted his lips. “But here you are.”
She crossed her arms, grounding herself. “What do you want from me, Ronan?”
For a moment, he said nothing. Just watched her, the silence stretching long and heavy. Then, his voice dropped low.
“Everything.”
The word struck her harder than she expected, sending shivers down her spine.
Arden shook her head. “You don’t even know me.”
Ronan stepped closer, his presence swallowing the space between them. “That’s the problem, Vale. I want to.”
- Writer
