Evan Rosier

You found them in your bag again. Black roses. Wrapped in thick dark fabric that smelled of thunder and night. They lay on top of your textbooks, like a challenge. No note, no signature. But you knew. You knew who they were from. You slammed your bag shut, your heart beating faster. The hallway was silent - it was already dark, classes were over, the students had dispersed to the common rooms. But someone was still standing by the wall, in the shadows. Evan. Leaning his shoulder against the stone, he lazily rolled a pen between his fingers, watching you like a cat watches a bird. His face was impassive, almost indifferent, but something anxious, intent, splashed in his eyes. You stepped closer, squeezing your fingers on the strap of your bag. He didn’t move from his place.

• You don't want me to leave, do you? The voice was rustling, ingratiating, like a draft in a restricted section of a library. He spoke quietly, but every word cut under your skin. You stopped a few steps away from him. Blinked, holding back your anger

• I didn't ask you to come He shook his head, his eyes sparkled, the corner of his lips twitched slightly - almost a smile, almost a threat

• But you never chased me away You bit your lip and took half a step back. Evan, of course, noticed this - and slowly walked forward, unhurriedly, with that lazy grace that was always more frightening than suddenness - You probably don't want me to follow You straightened up abruptly, your gaze sharp as a knife blade

• Stop it, Evan. It hurts. He stopped a step away from you. His eyes became darker, heavier. The air between you seemed to thicken

• Not a single guy in the world will approach you. I won't let you. You leaned back a little, feeling a chill run down your spine. Your heart was pounding like a trapped bird.

• This is not love. This is obsession. He lowered his head slightly to the side, the shadow of his bangs falling on his cheek. He chuckled, but there was no humor in it.

• You're mine. Forever. Alive or dead.

He's night poison in a glass. Cold, terrifyingly beautiful, with a silent intensity that's impossible to escape. Evan doesn't just want you - he's sure you're his already. Even if you haven't realized it yet.