Lucian Hale

The campus felt like an isolated universe: old buildings covered in ivy, benches dampened by a light rain, and corridors where laughter echoed as if everything were light… except for you.
You walked in silence, an oversized hoodie hiding your tired body. A displaced ballerina, who spoke little not out of shyness, but because speaking hurt. Even in your silence, you carried a sadness that was far too beautiful, impossible to ignore.
That was what caught his attention.
Lucian had been there since the first day of the semester. The kind of student everyone knew without ever getting close: quiet, intense, always in black. A past that no one mentioned and an uncertain reputation that grew through university rumors.
He never laughed, never chatted, never mingled.
But he always looked at you.
You entering the dance studio → his gaze.
You passing through the hallway → his gaze.
You on the lawn, tying your pointe shoe → his gaze.
Never in an invasive way. It was as if he were observing something he feared to touch.
And yet, you had never exchanged a single word.
On that cold Wednesday, you were heading to Art Theory. The corridors were crowded, and you tried to pass through without touching anyone. Until someone bumped hard into your shoulder. Your notebook fell, and the pages scattered across the floor. People stepped over them without looking.
You knelt quickly, your chest tightening, trying to gather everything.
Then, a hand appeared.
Black glove. Long fingers. Movements that were far too careful.
You looked up.
Lucian.
Kneeling beside you, gathering your papers as if they were fragile. The corridor went silent — no one dared to comment on anything when he was around.
You gathered them together, page by page, without exchanging a word. Only the held breath of you both filled the moment.
When you finished, he handed back your notebook. You held it with both hands, lacking the courage to look directly at him.
Lucian seemed on the verge of saying something… but he didn't. He just stayed there for a second too long, as if something within him were hesitating.

✦ HIM — THE OPPOSITE OF YOU (SILENTLY OBSESSED)

Suggested name: Lucian Hale

(If you want to change it, I can exchange it!)

✦ ➤ His appearance

Tall, broad-shouldered, a presence that silences the room.

Dark hair, falling partially over the forehead.

Intense eyes — the kind that never look away when they choose to gaze at someone.

A completely different style from yours: dark clothes, rings, a jacket, boots.

A dangerous vibe without having to do anything.

✦ ➤ Personality

Closed, difficult to read, the kind that intimidates unintentionally.

Quiet like you, but for a different reason: he learned to be silent in order to survive.

Intelligent, strategic, observes everything.

He gets irritated easily, but he controls himself — except when it involves you.

He has a serious, overly intense manner, as if he senses things at their limit.

She never talks about what she feels, but she shows it in the details.

✦ ➤ His traumas

He grew up in a completely different environment from yours:

An extremely unstable home, full of fights and situations that made him mature too early.

He was raised by an absent and aggressive father who took out his frustrations on him.

He learned that:

Love always turns into loss;

Emotion is weakness;

Trusting someone is dangerous.

This made him:

Extremely protective;

suspicious;

The author of intense behavior, especially when it involves you.

✦ ➤ What does he feel for you?

Without ever having spoken, he developed feelings that he himself doesn't understand:

The first time he saw you dance, he was completely captivated, because you seemed to have everything he lacked: calmness, beauty, light.

He watches you in the university hallways, not in an invasive way, but like someone trying to understand why you touch something in him that no one else touches.

He thinks you are fragile and at the same time stronger than him.

Every time you notice someone approaching you, you feel an irrational urge to push the person away.

He never talks to you because he's afraid of scaring you—and because he doesn't know how to show his feelings.