Bella didn't know what to say. Her throat felt dry, her fingers tightened around the strap of her sketchbook as her eyes flickedfrom Killian's smirk to Luca's warning stare.
"I'm going back to my room," she said finally, her voice quiet but steady.
Neither boy moved.
The air between them tensed, charged with challenge, none willing to back down. Killian tilted his head, his expression unreadable now, like he was studying her with new eyes.
But Luca stood firm, his shoulders square and his jaw clenched in a firm line. His stare wasn't just protective, it was possessive. Like he already considered her something that needed shielding, from predators like Killian.
For a moment, it was like the hallway existed only for the three of them. But they were drawing attention now; students were beginning to pause and stare, watching their drama unfold.
"More drama. Like the one I had in the bathroom and class this morning wasn't enough already," Bella lamented to herself.
"Sorry, did you say something?" Killian asked.
"I said I'm tired of the drama already, and I'll need you two to leave me alone now."
Then Bella turned on her heel and walked away, her footsteps echoing against the floor. She didn't look back.
She could feel the weight of stare from them both behind her, one burning holes with his eyes at the back of her head, but the other was on his heels already, chasing after her.
"Bella, wait!" Luca called.
Bella didn't say a word as Luca fell into step beside her. In three long strides, he'd caught up. For a second, she wondered if he was going to call her out for being near Killian again.
But he didn't.
Instead, he reached over and casually tugged the sketchbook strap from her tight grip, letting it settle onto his own shoulder like it was his.
Bella blinked, caught off guard.
"What are you doing?"
"Helping you carry your bag, obviously."
"You didn't have to—"
"It looked heavy," he said. "You were strangling the strap."
She hadn't even noticed. Her hand flexed at her side with her fingers curling around nothing now.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and there was something softer there than she'd seen before.
"What do you even want from me?"
"I didn't like the way he was looking at you," he said after a pause, his voice low and steady.
Bella exhaled, unsure if she was grateful or annoyed. "You were looking at me too. In fact, yours was creepier. If anything, I should stay away from you. At least Killa approached me like a decent person would."
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"What? What's funny?"
"Nothing. Just that you pronounced his name as 'Killa' instead of 'Killian.'"
"Killa, Killian—whatever. Fact remains, I'd pick him over you. There's something unsettling about you, and can you stop staring at me like that?"
"Difference between us is," Luca murmured, "when I look at you… I see you," he said placing more emphasis on see.
That made her stop.
She turned slightly toward him, studying his face. He wasn't smirking like Killian, and he wasn't trying to impress her. He just stood there, tall and frustratingly calm, as though he hadn't just said something that crawled under her skin and made her feel unease.
Bella felt her pulse jamming in her throat.
"You barely know me," she said, narrowing her eyes a little. "What do you mean by you see me?"
Luca gave a half-shrug. "I see you beyond what everyone else sees."
They stood like that for some minutes, she looking up at him, he watching her like he was indeed seeing something deeper than everyone else.
"I should walk away from this conversation, but my curiosity is getting the better part of me. What do you see when you look at me?"
Luca stepped closer, gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind Bella's ear. His fingers lingered for the briefest second against her cheek, carefullyl, as if she were something fragilehe didn't want to break.
"When I look at you," he said quietly, "I see someone who doesn't want to be noticed. You don't want to draw any attention to yourself at all. But your eyes... they tell on you."
Bella blinked, heart stuttering in her chest.
"You act like you don't care what people think too," he went on. "But you do. A bit too much for your own good. You pretend you want to be invisible, in fact, you want to be invisible, but you've got the kind of soul that was made to be known. You're capable of so much more than you could ever know. You were not made to hide in the shadows, Bella. You will give light to the shadows."
His words were low, truth just pouring gently into the air between them. It silenced her.
"Your eyes also scream of pain. Betrayal. Sadness. Who hurt you, mi Bella?"
"That's enough. What do you think you are, a soul reader?" she asked, brushing his fingers away.
He stepped back half a pace, giving her room to breathe again. "I didn't mean to freak you out."
Bella swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. "You didn't." Then, guessing he could probably read her mind and know she was lying, she added, "Well, maybe a little."
Luca smiled, slow and knowing. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
"What?" she asked, wary. "Another of your superpowers?"
He chuckled. "I don't have any superpowers, at least none that would be totally foreign to you."
"Okay, you're saying a lot of weird things this afternoon. And I'm not even sure I want to decode what you mean." She hesitated. "Why would I follow you anywhere?"
"Because I want you to, and trust me, you'd really want to see this," he said, walking backward now, still holding her sketchbook. "Come on, Bella. You can keep the exit in view the whole time. I won't trap you."
She narrowed her eyes, heart warring with caution. This was stupid. She barely knew him. He was intense and strange. Very strange. Everything logical was screaming at her not to go.
But she was curious.
And right now, her curiosity was louder than caution.
"Fine," she muttered, adjusting her bag. "But if you murder me, my spirit will haunt you."
"I'd expect nothing less," he said with a grin.
He led her through the back wing of the school, past a series of old wooden doors and dusty framed photos of past graduates from Whitethorn. The hallway was empty, and Bella's footsteps slowed as they approached an unmarked room tucked between the archives and a locked faculty lounge.
Luca unlocked the door with a small key from around his neck.
"What is this place?" she asked, stepping into a small room that smelled like paint and chemicals.
"My hideout," he said simply.
As she walked further in, the room spread out larger than she expected. Light poured from a row of overhead bulbs, keeping the room just bright enough to clearly see the canvases that were lined up on the walls, some stacked, some pinned, others leaned against bookcases.
Bella stood frozen in the doorway.
"You did all these?" she asked, incredulously.
Luca nodded, setting her sketchbook on a stool. "Yeah."
She walked slowly, drawn forward as if the art itself was calling her. Each piece was stranger and more beautiful than the previous one.
He drew wolves, mostly. Some were howling at full moons, some were sprinting through endless forests, others were snarling and majestic. But there was more. Packs curled together in sleep. A single alpha standing alone on a cliff. Wolves with eyes like humans. Some shifting mid-form, half-human, half-beast. Some blurred with movement like they were caught in motion.
Then, near the corner, she paused.
"Is that the school?"
"Yeah," he said, coming to stand beside her.
The painting was of Whitethorn, but this seemed very real.
"The school looks older and… wilder here. Like something out of a dream. It doesn't look like this now."
"Yes it doesn't. I painted it from the picture of it in my head," Luca said. "It once looked like this. Maybe it will again."
Bella turned to him slowly. "I think I prefer how the school looks in your painting."
"Thanks," he muttered under his breath.
"Why do you choose to draw wolves?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked at one of the paintings, a pack gathered beneath a blood-red moon, stretching in the dim light provided by it.
"They're misunderstood," he said finally. "Most people only see the teeth."
Bella looked at him, the way he said it, like he felt compassion for them.
"You see them... differently?" she said.
He nodded. "Yes. They're not just some creatures looking to devour, unless the need be, of course, but they have feelings. They're graceful. They stand out. And they look for every way possible to express themselves. Which isn't possible most times. That's why I draw. To show these feelings."
"I have hundreds of paintings like these. But I think you've seen enough for our first meeting. I'll show you more when the time is right."
"I just…" He stepped closer until their breaths mingled.
"Luca…"