[Infirmary – The Next Morning]

Lydia walked in early.

Earlier than usual.

Hair tied tighter. Lips bare. Coat buttoned to the top.

She looked like she was trying to reset the board.

As if last night could be erased with routine and protocol.

But it couldn’t.

Not when her body still ached from his touch.

Not when her hand hovered over the drawer where she kept the gloves—and remembered how she didn’t wear them.

Not when she looked at the table and saw herself there.

Bent back.

Exposed.

Ruined.

This can’t happen again.

She told herself that three times before the first knock at the door came.

She flinched.

Then calmed.

It wasn’t him.

It was Aria Wynn.

[Infirmary Office – 8:03 AM]

Aria leaned against the doorframe with a manila folder in hand.

“Nurse Voss,” she said, voice sharp. “You’re in early.”

“So are you.”

“Drop-off from the honors committee. Academic medical forms.”

Lydia nodded and took the folder.

Aria didn’t move.

She glanced at the table.

“Smells like alcohol pads in here,” she said offhand.

“I cleaned earlier.”

“Hm.”

Then she smiled. Small. Calculated.

“You and Wolfe seem close.”

Lydia blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve seen him more than most. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Lydia's voice stiffened. “I’m a staff member. He’s a student. Don’t read into things that aren’t there.”

“Didn’t say it was a problem,” Aria said casually. “He’s... interesting.”

Lydia forced a short smile. “You should focus on your own record.”

“I am.”

Aria turned to leave.

Stopped.

“Oh, and if he comes in again today, let me know. We have a group project meeting. I don’t want to waste time chasing him.”

Then she left without waiting for a reply.

[South Quad – Two Hours Later]

Garren was sitting on the stone steps outside the west lecture hall, reading something on his phone.

Tessa was nearby.

Not talking.

Just sitting two benches over, sketchbook in her lap, eyes drifting toward him every few minutes.

He knew.

He didn’t react.

He was used to being watched now.

[Aria’s POV – Student Lounge]

She spotted him later.

Still alone.

Still unreadable.

She hated that.

Most guys were obvious.

Easy to steer. Easy to manipulate.

But not him.

He didn’t chase. He didn’t bite at attention.

Which made him harder to ignore.

She didn’t want him.

Not like that.

But she hated how Tessa looked at him like he was hers. Like he let her.

He didn’t even push her away.

Aria pulled her hair into a high ponytail and stood.

She wasn’t going to compete.

But she wasn’t going to let that idiot art girl win, either.

[Later – Infirmary, 3:20 PM]

The knock came soft.

Lydia looked up from her desk, pulse already rising.

Then she saw him.

Garren.

He didn’t speak when he entered. Just closed the door behind him and stood there like the space already belonged to him.

Don’t let this happen again.

“Is there an issue?” she asked.

“No. Just checking in.”

“You don’t have an appointment.”

“Neither did we last night.”

Her breath caught.

He walked toward the table—didn’t sit this time. Just leaned back on the edge like he wanted her to remember.

She did.

She stood slowly.

“I told you that was a mistake.”

“You didn’t say that last night.”

“I’m saying it now.”

He didn’t argue.

Just nodded once.

“Fine.”

Then he turned to leave.

Her stomach twisted.

She hated that part of her wanted him to stop.

He didn’t.

He walked out without another word.

[Lydia’s Apartment – That Night]

She didn’t sleep.

She couldn’t.

She kept thinking about the way he touched her—gentle but commanding. About the sound of his voice in the dark. About how her body responded like it had no loyalty to logic.

She was spiraling.

And she knew it.

But she couldn’t stop.

Not anymore.

[Next Morning – Infirmary]

Lydia rearranged the same tray three times.

Forceps. Gauze. Stethoscope. Again.

The door hadn’t opened once.

No knocks.

No Garren.

She told herself she should be relieved.

Instead, her nerves buzzed.

She reached for her mug—half coffee, half silence—and took a sip.

It was cold.

Her mind kept drifting back to the table. To how her legs trembled when he touched her. To how he left without even looking back.

He took control without raising his voice.

That scared her more than anything.

Because she didn’t want it to stop.

And he knew that.

[Student Council Room – Same Time]

Aria sat at the head of the table, fingers tapping against her tablet.

The others were chatting—some about committee votes, some about weekend plans.

She wasn’t listening.

Her eyes kept flicking to her phone screen.

No new messages.

No sighting of him on the class tracker either.

Skipping again.

She wasn’t surprised.

She was irritated.

Did Lydia see him again?

She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. Cold. Silent.

Everyone quieted when she stopped moving.

They always did.

But her control wasn’t working on him.

That’s what made it dangerous.

And addictive.

[Courtyard – Afternoon]

Garren stood near the west gate, arms crossed, watching two undergrads argue about class notes.

He wasn’t listening.

His mind was on Lydia.

The way she looked at him this morning—trying to mask guilt with formality. Trying to take back control she’d already surrendered.

He liked seeing her squirm.

Not because it made him feel cruel.

Because it proved she wanted more.

He’d give her space.

Let her spiral.

She’ll come back on her knees next time. I won’t need to say a word.

He looked up.

Aria Wynn was staring at him from across the quad.

She didn’t turn away.

[Library – Later]

Aria waited at the top of the stairs.

She didn’t text him.

Didn’t call.

Just stood where he’d have to walk past if he headed toward his dorm.

And eventually—he did.

He paused halfway up.

She didn’t move.

“You skipped today,” she said.

“Did I?”

Her arms folded. “You know you did.”

“Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“I’m the council chair. It’s my job.”

Garren stepped up one more stair. Now they were level.

He looked at her the same way he looked at Lydia.

Like he already knew.

“You worried about my record?” he asked.

“No. I’m worried about your distractions.”

“Thought you didn’t care what I do.”

“I don’t.”

She turned and walked away.

But her heartbeat was faster.

She hated how he could tell.