The new semester had just begun, and the campus buzzed with the fresh energy of students returning after the short break. Elara walked into her classroom with a soft smile. For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t alone — Mira, the girl she had bonded with over Instagram during the break, was waving at her from the corner.

“Elaraaa, here!” Mira called, grinning.

Elara slid into the seat beside her, and the two instantly started chatting. Their laughter echoed softly between the chatter of other students.

Just then, the classroom door opened, and Ronan walked in. His tall frame and careless stride made heads turn, as always. His damp hair fell slightly across his forehead, and he carried himself with an ease that drew attention without effort.

Mira froze mid-sentence. Her jaw dropped a little. “Oh my god… Does he know how handsome he is?” she whispered, eyes wide in admiration.

Elara stiffened, her smile vanishing. Her gaze followed Ronan for a brief moment, her chest tightening as memories of their last encounter flashed in her mind. Then she quickly turned to Lisa with a sharp tone.

“Don’t,” she said firmly. “Don’t let yourself get fooled by him. He’s a total jerk.” Her eyes narrowed as Ronan walked past. He didn’t look her way — didn’t even glance — but Elara’s glare lingered.

Mira nudged Elara, her voice dropping. “Come on, you know him, right? Just introduce me. Please?”

“No way,” Elara shot back immediately.

“Pleeeease!”

Before Elara could respond, the atmosphere shifted again. Alax entered the classroom. His presence wasn’t loud like Ronan’s — it was calm, steady, but it pulled Elara’s gaze all the same. Without hesitation, he walked straight to her desk.

“Got yourself a new friend?” he asked casually as he dropped his bag on the seat next to hers and sat down.

Elara nodded with a smile. “Yeah… we met on IG during the break. Today’s our first time meeting in person.”

“Nice,” Alax said warmly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m glad. Now you finally have someone other than me to hang around with.”

He pulled out his phone and started scrolling absentmindedly. Elara’s eyes lingered on him, watching the way the light from the window caught on his hair, the little curve of his lips when he smirked at something on his screen.

From the far side of the classroom, Ronan’s gaze burned holes into the back of Alax’s head. He wasn’t listening to the murmurs of his friends, wasn’t paying attention to the lecture notes on the desk. His attention was fixed only on the way Elara leaned toward Alax, how close they sat, how easily she smiled at him.

His jaw tightened. His fists curled slightly on the desk.

The bell rang, breaking the heavy silence in Ronan’s chest as the class finally began.

Elara went to the library to borrow a few books. By the time she returned, the halls were nearly empty. As she started down the staircase, a misstep sent a sharp pain shooting through her ankle as it twisted.

She gasped, books scattering as she tumbled forward, barely catching herself on the railing. Her ankle throbbed mercilessly.

For a long moment, there was no one. No footsteps, no voices. Just her ragged breathing.

Elara tried calling Alax. Once. Twice. Three times. Each time the call rang out, it was unanswered. She stared at her phone, frustration stinging her eyes. There was no one else she could call.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself upright, balancing on one foot. Step by step, half-hopping, half-dragging herself, she made her way out of the department building. By the time she reached the main gate, sweat clung to her temples, and her injured ankle had swollen alarmingly.

She tried to flag down a taxi, but her body was trembling from the effort. Her knees wobbled; standing itself was becoming unbearable.

That’s when a sleek, black car rolled to a stop in front of her. The back window slid down, tinted glass lowering to reveal Ronan. He removed his sunglasses with deliberate slowness, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Need a ride?” he asked, his tone casual, almost mocking.

“I’ll manage,” Elara snapped, shifting forward on one leg, refusing to meet his eyes.

But the limp gave her away. Ronan’s smirk faded the instant he noticed the swelling. He opened the door, got out, and strode toward her.

“Wait — your ankle — “

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, jerking her arm back as he reached for her.

He frowned. “Stop being stubborn. Your ankle is badly swollen.”

Before she could resist further, he caught her wrist firmly. “Come with me.”

“Ronan — “

Ignoring her protest, he guided her — almost dragged her — into the back seat of the car. The leather was cool against her palms as she sank into it, too exhausted to keep fighting.

“City hospital,” Ronan ordered the driver, his voice clipped, his expression unreadable.

Elara sat stiffly, her jaw tight, staring out the window. The car pulled smoothly into motion, but her mind was anything but calm.

“You don’t have to worry about it,” Elara said while looking out the window.

Ronan didn’t reply. He only gave Elara a long, unreadable glance before turning his gaze out the window. The silence in the car thickened, stretching uncomfortably between them.

Then her phone rang, breaking the stillness. It lay between them on the seat, the screen lighting up with a familiar name. Alax.

Elara reached for it quickly, but Ronan’s eyes had already caught the name before she could hide it.

“Hey, Alax,” she breathed into the receiver. “Why didn’t you pick up earlier?”

“Sorry, I was caught up,” came his warm voice.

Relief washed through her, her tone softening. “Listen — I sprained my ankle. It hurts… I’m in the Ronan car, on the way to the city hospital. Please — can you come? Please come fast.”

Ronan’s jaw tightened. His face gave nothing away, but anger simmered beneath the surface. Jealousy coiled in his chest, unfamiliar yet undeniable.

When Elara hung up, Ronan’s voice cut through the quiet. “Driver. Change the route. Take us to the nearest hospital.”

Elara turned toward him, frowning. “What? Why? I already told Alax to meet me there.” She reached for her phone to call back, but before she could dial, Ronan snatched it from her hand in one smooth motion and slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Give it back!” she snapped, leaning toward him, trying to reach for it.

But the struggle only brought her closer. Her balance faltered, and before she knew it, she had fallen slightly against him. The space between them shrank to almost nothing — barely an inch.

Her breath caught.

For a moment, everything stilled. Their eyes locked. Something unspoken flickered in Ronan’s gaze — memories. , Elara had buried deep, blurred in her mind like a half-forgotten dream. But for him, every detail remained sharp, seared into him.

Her pulse quickened as his eyes dipped to her lips. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in — 

Elara’s heart slammed against her ribs. At the last second, she pushed him back, turning her face toward the window.

Silence fell again, though this time it pulsed with a different weight.

Ronan leaned back with a low smirk, his expression unreadable but his eyes glinting with mischief. He hadn’t truly meant to close the gap — not yet. He was only teasing her.

The hospital visit was quick; her ankle was cleaned, wrapped, and secured in a neat bandage. When they stepped back into the night air, Elara’s first words were clipped.

“Now give me my phone back.”

Ronan didn’t even glance at her. “First, let me drop you home.”

“No.” Her tone was firmer this time. “I’ll call Alax. He’ll come and take me.”

At that, Ronan’s head turned sharply. His eyes locked on hers, cold and dark. “Why don’t you ever listen?” The weight in his voice sent a chill down her spine.

Elara faltered, her defiance shrinking under his stare. A part of her wanted to argue, but her voice caught in her throat. Instead, she lowered her gaze, silently allowing him to guide her forward.

Without another word, Ronan slid his arm around her waist, steadying her weight against him. With his other hand, he clasped her wrist firmly, leading her toward the car. The warmth of his hold contrasted sharply with the force behind it — gentle, yet leaving her no room to resist.

He opened the car door and helped her inside, his movements precise, almost careful, though his jaw was still tight. Sliding in beside her, he pulled out his phone and began scrolling through messages, his attention seemingly elsewhere.

“Just stay still,” he ordered flatly.

Elara stayed quiet, hesitating. A part of her wanted to refuse, to prove she still had control over her choices. But when Ronan’s eyes flicked sideways to her — just a single glance — it was enough. That look carried an edge of warning she couldn’t ignore.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she finally murmured. Ronan gave the driver the location.

Satisfied, Ronan leaned back, phone in hand, as the car rolled forward into the night.

As they reached Elara’s place, Ronan was carrying a bag of medicines, her bag slung over his shoulder, and one hand steadying her as she unlocked the door. When it finally clicked open, she turned to him.

“You can leave now,” she said, reaching for her things.

But instead of handing them over, Ronan caught her hand and stepped inside. He guided her to the sofa, helping her sit. Elara stared at him, and this time, her gaze wasn’t filled with anger. It was softer, almost pitying.

“You can leave it here,” she repeated.

Ronan leaned closer, towering over her as she sat on the sofa. His voice dropped low.
“Are you afraid of me?”

Elara smirked faintly but didn’t push him away. “Why would I be afraid of you?” she answered quietly, eyes locked with his.

The moment stretched, their gazes caught — until her phone buzzed. Ronan didn’t look away, but she broke the contact, pulling the phone from her bag. When he saw the name flashing on the screen — Alax — his jaw clenched.

Without a word, he turned and walked to the kitchen, disappointment simmering in his chest. Jealousy. He poured himself a glass of water, listening to her voice as she spoke on the phone.

Two… three minutes later, the call ended. Elara turned toward him.
“Give me water too,” she said.

Ronan set down his glass, filled another, and handed it to her. Their fingers brushed — just for a second — and something lingered there. He unpacked the medicines slowly, but then froze when Elara spoke again.

“Alax will be here. You can go now.”

Ronan didn’t look at her. His eyes stayed fixed on the paper bag in his hands. His voice came low, almost breaking.
“Why can’t I stay? I can take care of you, too.”

“I don’t want you to — “ Elara began, but then Ronan turned, meeting her eyes for the first time.

“You hate me because I slept with you without your consent. You hate me because you think I flirt with everyone. You hate me because I’m a Playboy. You hate me because — “

“I don’t hate you,” Elara cut in suddenly.

Ronan froze, staring at her.

“I don’t hate you,” she repeated, more firmly, as if she wanted him to believe it. “And about that night… that wasn’t your fault. I was the one who came to you. So don’t think I hate you for that.”

“What… you mean…” Ronan started, but Elara stopped him.
“Shh. But that doesn’t mean I like you,” she said, while placing a finger gently on his lips.

As she tried to pull her hand away, Ronan caught it midway.
“But I do… I do like you,” he said softly.

Before Elara could respond, the doorbell rang.