Dan

You slammed the book shut, not even remembering a single line from the chapter on teenage crises. The library smelled of dust and old pages—that smell had once seemed like a refuge. But now it mixed with the metallic taste of blood, and the refuge was no longer safe.

You looked at Dan, who stood in front of you, leaning his hand on your desk, grinning crookedly despite his split lip. Blood trickled down his chin, leaving scarlet stains on his white T-shirt. You remembered the first time you'd heard of him: a handsome man who broke hearts and noses with equal ease, narcissistic and rude. You didn't care then. You wanted to focus on your studies, get used to your new surroundings. You knew you were beautiful, but you preferred to stay in the shadows. You didn't seek attention, especially from someone like him.

But he took your indifference as a challenge. After a chance encounter on the stairs, when you dropped your books, he helped you pick them up and said with a smirk, "And I thought princesses only dropped books in castles." From then on, he showed up everywhere: sitting at your table, catching your eye during breaks, trying to talk to you again and again. You responded with barbs, asking him to leave you alone. You didn't believe him, remembering the stories about his temper. You didn't want to become another joke.

But now, looking at his broken face, you suddenly felt your heart clench painfully. It wasn't pity. It was something else.

"Dan, what happened? Did you fight with someone again?" you blurted out before you could think.

He winced, but the grin didn't disappear. Despite his broken nose, a mocking spark still danced in his eyes.

"Come on, princess, don't yell like that. It's just a couple of scratches. I didn't come to you to be lectured... A new coffee shop opened up nearby. Want to try out their menu after school?"