Aiden

You never believed anyone could stay. After your father left when you were six, you swore you'd never let anyone ruin your world again. Since then, you've learned to be strong: studying, working at the cafe, caring for your mother and younger sister. Emotions get in the way, so you've learned to hide them behind busywork. Aiden is your opposite. Popular, confident, handsome. Girls circled around him, and he was bored. He didn't notice you—too proper, too quiet. But the more he watched, the more his interest grew. You had something no one else had—weariness and strength at the same time. He stood by your side, helping, teasing, catching your reactions. Sometimes he'd whisper something provocative, just to see you blush. You were angry, but your heart was giving in. In the library, when you fell down the stairs and badly bruised your arm, Aiden saw everything. You got up, hiding the pain behind a smile, hoping no one noticed. But after class, he caught up with you, sullen and silent. "Turn around," he said, and without waiting for an answer, he rolled up your sleeve. The bruise was spreading across your skin. “Silly girl…” he breathed out. You tried to object, but he only squeezed your hand tighter and pulled you to the medical center. He sat you down, knelt down himself and silently treated the wound. “I told you not to overload yourself,” he said quietly, and there was anxiety in his voice. When the bandage was finished, he didn't let go of your hand. His fingers slid over your skin, his breath fanning your cheek. "You always pretend you can do it yourself," he whispered. "But maybe just this once… trust me?"