Back then, I thought I was silly for thinking it. But when I was trapped under his burning blue gaze, a part of me thought it almost felt like being under a spell. And when he finally did look away, it was like I had been released.

The freedom to move flooded me at once. I pushed back from my chair, hastily threw my belongings into my bag, and ran down the stairs, out of the library before he could say anything further.

Putting distance between us, I finally felt like I could breathe. The coolness radiated back through my body as I took in some deep breaths. Then I casted a glance over my shoulder to check whether he followed me.

What the heck was that? Am I really that pathetic of a girl that I'm going gaga over someone I barely know just because he touched me? The depth of the pull towards him was beyond any feeling I had felt for another person. It was terrifying. But familiar. Oh so familiar.

But as my eyes caught my hand—the one he had touched—a tug on my heart echoed, wanting me to go back.

Everything about him screamed 'run'. Common sense told me I shouldn't get close to him... that I had to just let him leave my life as nature had wanted to happen the past week once he disappeared. A part of me knew if I walked back into that library, I was bound to get hurt.

Yet all I could think then was, as Ben so eloquently put it, Screw instincts.

My legs began carrying me back inside before I could force them to stop.

I bounded up the stairs and rounded that corner, a large part of me eager to see him again, and a small part wishing he might have left already... So that I could keep my heart safe.

But he was still there. Just where I had left him, his eyes found mine immediately. Waiting. Expecting. But also mirroring my anxiety.

His gaze told me all: he, too, wasn't sure what was going on with us... or if he wanted it.

One step at a time, I closed the distance between us until I was standing by the table once more, looking down at him.

"Do you want to get out of here?" I breathed. It was far beyond the routine, but something about his touch, that pull, had broken me from that desire. My patterns and rituals no longer felt necessary. I just wanted to be alone with him, getting to know him. Getting to know why I was compelled to him.

"What about your research?" he questioned.

I shrugged. "There's always tomorrow." My confidence began to wane the longer I stood there, waiting for a response from him.

But then he finally got to his feet, grabbed his bag, and we were heading down the stairs and out onto London's busy city streets.

"Where are we going?" he asked me after a while of walking.

"I don't know. I didn't think that far." My stomach twisted in knots, wondering if I had just made this all awkward.

Yet a smile graced his face, his hand slipping into mine as he pulled me along. "I know a place."

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

One bus ride and twelve stops later, we got off at Marble Arch, walking a few steps down the road before crossing to Hyde Park.

At once, an ache spread through me as I glanced around at the scenery. I hadn't had a chance to visit yet, but its landscape was familiar to my mind.

Must be from all the movies that have featured it, I deduced.

"This is one of my favourite places in all of London," Ben whispered, just audible enough for me to hear.

Taking a moment to glance at each other, we shared smiles before beginning to walk through the park, hand in hand.

I liked how warm his palm was against mine.

"What's going on here?" I finally asked after we had strolled in silence for a while, the tension making the air almost as warm as the weather last week.

Head slightly ducked, a light blush on his face, he mumbled, "I'm not sure... But I like it."

Wary I may only have moments with him again to get the answers I sought, I moved on from the joy I wanted to relish in and asked my next question instead. "What did you mean about your life being complicated? Tell me about it."

"Olivia..." the way he pronounced my name, full of his British inflections, sent chills down my spine. The good kind. "Can we have that conversation another day, please?"

I frowned at him, unsure what to say.

"One week," he bargained. "Spend one week with me, talking about all the lighthearted details. Then... I'll tell you everything."

I came to a stop, our still-joined hands jolting him to a halt.

"What?"

"Are you married?" I asked.

He laughed. "No. Definitely not."

"Dating someone?"

"Negative."

"Have a terminal illness?"

"Thankfully not. I am in good health."

My eyebrows furrowed. What could it be? "You have a child?"

Almost reluctantly, he admitted in a hushed tone, "I've never dated anyone before."

"Excuse me?" I asked back, sure I had heard wrong.

"I've never had a girlfriend."

"Like a proper one?"

"Like proper or improper."

"So always friends with benefits?"

"Not even that."

I eyed him, quizzically.

Is this some fun game of his? Lure women into thinking he's some pure, innocent man and then kills them? Is that the secret?

But while I tried to doubt him, that pull from within me shook all the thoughts away, screaming at me that he was telling the truth and meant well. "But you've... Y'know..."

"Had sex?" he asked bluntly.

Warmth spread across my face. "Yeah..."

"No. I've never even kissed a girl."

I immediately dropped his hand and took a step back.

Hurt echoed in his gaze.

"How old are you?" I whispered before glancing around at the passersby, wary if any of them were police.

It didn't go unnoticed by him judging by the smirk he adopted. "About 19?"

My eyes narrowed. About? "Can you prove that?"

He fished in his bag, pulling out his wallet and handing me his national identity card. It read:

Cross, Benjamin.

Sex: M

Nationality: British citizen

Date of birth: 5 June, 1998

Place of birth: London

I frowned, handing him back his ID.

"Something displease you?" he asked.

"I'm older than you," I grumbled.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you are. What month are you born, Olivia?"

His words perplexed me slightly, but I didn't question him further, instead just responding, "April. 29th." I was surprised he never asked the year...

"So much older," he laughed. "Are we good now?"

I gasped, a new realisation coming to mind. "Have you been to prison?"

"What? No."

"Do you do drugs?"

"No. Look, Olivia, you're not going to guess it, so just stop trying. Just give me one week and I'll tell you anything you want to know. Just... can you give me this?" He picked up my hand, eyes pleading.

Biting my lip, weighing up his words, eventually I breathed, "Okay."

It probably wasn't a smart move. Like, isn't that the start of a horror movie? Cute boy spots a vulnerable girl, has some dark mysterious past that he can't tell her about... kills her?

But regardless of the logic my brain tried to scream at me, apparently my heart was now in control, consumed by that lasso that was somehow tying me to him, telling me I had to believe in him.

A grin spread across his face. "Shall we keep walking?"

I nodded, and we began to stroll once more. I leaned closer to him, whispering, "Are you really a virgin?"

"Is it that shocking to you?"

"Yes. Are you waiting until marriage or something?"

"No... just haven't met the right girl. Or dated anyone."

A small smile slipped onto my face as he said girl, confirming for me that he certainly could be attracted to me.

"I think it's my turn for questions," he said.

"Go ahead."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

As I snuck a glance out of the corner of my eye, I felt pleased to see a tint of red on his cheeks. "No, I don't."

"Had one?"

"A couple. One serious ouchy."

"What happened?"

"We said lighthearted topics?"

"That's right. What brought you to England?"

"Running from my life. The usual. Without going into that depressing story, I'm here on a student visa."

"What are you studying and how far through are you?"

"A Bachelor of Arts in English Literature and Creative Writing."

Smiling, he said, "Should have guessed that one."

"And I'm about halfway. The terms here kind of throw me off. We only do two semesters a year back home but here's three terms?" I shook my head. "I just finished my second term here."

"And how long are you staying?"

"I hope to finish the whole thing here. I really like my lecturers and the freedom and space that comes with being alone."

"Are your parents wealthy?" It felt like a very British question, though I assumed he was mostly just curious as to how I was affording living here and financing my studies.

"No. Dad's gone. My mum and I put money aside for this as we knew I wanted to get away for a while at some point."

"Sorry about your father... what happened?"

"I thought we were sticking to lighthearted?"

"Yes. My apologies. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories."

Sighing, I decided to answer his question anyway. "He died. I was really little, so I'm not too affected by it."

He was quiet for a moment, eventually saying, "My mum died when I was young too."

"I'm sorry Ben," I whispered.

He shrugged. "Even though it's been a long time... some days I really still miss her."

My heart throbbed for him. No child should ever have to lose a parent so early... But we carry them within our hearts, even if they are no longer here. We live for them, as they would have wanted. "Hobbies?" I asked, desperate for a distraction from the pain of the past for the both of us.

"They fluctuate. I like to pick up a new one every now and then. But my main is piano."

"Ah. You play?"

"Yes. You?"

I barked a laugh. "No. The most I agree to music is listening to it. I'd love to hear you play."

"Maybe one day." We shared a smile.

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

And so began our bittersweet beginning, tinged by the looming deadline of Ben's 'complex' life I would learn of. The days hurried by, Ben turning up at the library to help me research, our conversations and getting to know each other continued over lunch. On Thursday and Friday he even walked me to work.

It was charming, romantic, and something belonging to the plot of a romance novel. Yet the innocence of all beginnings only last in the blink of an eye, as life catches up and demands you to look at its ugliness, lurking in the shadows of the light.

We shared many things with each other those few days. I told him about my friend Marli, who drifted further from me over the years. He told me about his best friend Lukas, who he met on his first day at a boarding school here in London. Ben's father apparently lives over in Germany, alongside Lukas's father. Though as he spoke of his friend, I could hear a sense of restraint... as though there was more he wanted to tell me, he just... didn't want to.

Though I never pried.

I told him I lived alone, and he told me he had many housemates from his school days: Lukas, Ivan, Loren, Drake, Erica, and Jayce. Before parting ways on Friday, we exchanged phone numbers.