Will didn't flinch. If anything, that slow, knowing smirk of his deepened, like he'd been waiting for the pushback, savoring it.
"You think I stare because I'm trying to figure you out," he said, voice low and velvet-smooth. "But I already have."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
He leaned in, elbows on the table, and the shift was magnetic. His presence folded around me like smoke—dark, inescapable. "You walk like you're guarding a secret. You smile like it's a shield and your eyes…" His gaze locked on mine, unblinking. "They're haunted. Like they've seen things no one else dares to believe."
The world around us faded—the clinking of glasses and the distant laughter were all drowned beneath the hush of his words.
"You don't know me," I said, but it came out quieter than I meant.
"No," he agreed, softer now. "But I see you."
Then his hand found mine—slow, deliberate. His fingers slid between mine again, warm and steady, like he had every right to be there. The air between us shifted, charged instantly, and was alive with something ancient. Something my bones remembered, even if my mind didn't.
My heart stuttered. My skin tingled. Recognition curled deep in my chest like smoke from an old flame.
"You're intense, you know that?" I breathed, trying to keep my voice level.
He chuckled, low and smooth, like dark chocolate melting in the back of my throat. "And you're dodging. You always do that when someone gets close."
"Don't flatter yourself," I said, lifting an eyebrow. "I dodge for sport. You're just… conveniently in range."
Will grinned. "So it's a game, then? Should I be worried?"
"Depends," I said, leaning in just slightly. "Are you the type to play with fire or run from it?"
His smirk turned molten. "Darling, I am the fire."
I looked away quickly, mostly because my skin was now on the verge of spontaneous combustion. Instead, I reached for my drink, needing something to ground me. The glass was cool, but my hand trembled.
Will watched me. Silent. Unwavering. His eyes didn't just look—they claimed. Stormy and still, like the sea before a tempest.
"I don't do this," I managed. "Whatever this is."
"Neither do I," he said, his thumb brushing the back of my hand. "But here we are."
I motioned vaguely between us. "We don't even have similar interests."
He leaned in again, a flicker of heat in his gaze. "How can you say that? Evan says you're sharp, fluent in sarcasm, and too smart for your own good. That's practically my résumé."
"Really?" I teased. "Because I wasn't told anything about you. From my observation, you're arrogant, moody, and only charming when you feel like it."
He laughed, full and unashamed. "Guilty. But you missed being devastatingly handsome. Tragic oversight."
"Tragic," I echoed, dry. "Clearly, I need a new fact checker."
Then his hand was on my chin, tilting it gently. His thumb brushed just beneath my bottom lip, slow and deliberate, sending sparks down my spine. "And your eyes…" he breathed, gaze dark and devout, "they're not of this world. They belong to goddesses and ghosts. Green like fields of clover and fire under moonlight. Eyes that remember things your soul hasn't told you yet."
The words wrapped around me like silk. I couldn't move.
"I once knew someone with eyes like yours," he said, quieter now. "Back home. We were close. I heard recently… she passed."
A tight ache bloomed in my chest. My eyes—always too vivid, too strange—had always unsettled people. But Will looked at them like they were holy.
And in that moment, something ancient stirred inside me. Déjà vu whispered through my soul, soft and insistent, like we'd had this conversation before under a different sky, in another life, with the same ache between us.
The weight of his gaze was too much. Too knowing. I pulled my hand from his and looked away, needing distance, needing air.
"I'm sorry," I said softly, eyes fixed on a spot just past his shoulder. "She must've meant a lot. Is that why you're here? Did your parents send you away because of her?"
His faint smile held too much weight. "Maybe," he said. "Or maybe I ran."
"You're from Greece, right?" I asked, trying to ease the tension. "How do you like the States?"
"Santorini," he said. "Ever been?"
I shook my head. "I was supposed to study abroad in Italy. Parents shut that down. So… stuck here."
"You're not stuck," he said, eyes catching mine like firelight. "You're exactly where you're meant to be. Since I found you, the States don't seem so bad."
I snorted. "That was smooth."
"Smooth?" He leaned closer, a wicked glint in his eye. "Angela, if I wanted to charm you, I wouldn't be wasting time with lines. I'd just ask you to dance. Or kiss me."
"Confident," I said, blinking. "Maybe a little presumptuous."
"Only if you're not thinking about it too."
Touché.
He grinned, taking a sip of beer. "I'm not lucky, if that's what you're thinking. My parents don't even know I left the University of Greece. That place was punishment for running away the first time."
My jaw dropped. "You ran away from Greece?"
He nodded, shameless. "I don't do cages. Not anymore."
Then he looked at me, and it wasn't just a look. It was a quiet unraveling.
"What are you thinking right now?" he asked.
I looked away. "Nothing."
"Liar," he said softly, a smile playing on his lips. "You're thinking about kissing me."
My pulse jumped. "You're very sure of yourself."
"No," he said. "I'm very sure of us."
I stood, grabbed my clutch, and tossed a five on the table. I needed air. Distance. Anything to loosen the knot he'd tied around my ribs.
"Have I stunned you into silence, Angela?" he asked, voice husky, heat laced through it. "Is it the way I talk about your eyes? The way I see you?"
Still, I said nothing.
We walked together toward the club, our reflections ghosting in the tall windows. Will opened the door, and the beat of the music crashed over us—loud, alive, pulsing.
He ordered our drinks. A Malibu Bay Breeze for me. Another beer for him.
I drifted to the music, swaying gently. Letting the rhythm carry the weight of the moment.
Then he was there, close. Too close.
"Are you going to avoid me all night?" he murmured, "or do I get one dance before you bolt again?"
"Depends," I said, tilting my head. "Are you going to behave?"
"Absolutely not."
I laughed, despite myself. "Points for honesty."
Then he leaned in, his lips a breath from my ear.
"You are mine," he whispered. "Forever and always."
He inhaled like he was breathing me in.
"I've missed you."
And then—he was gone. Swallowed by the crowd, leaving me standing there, heart in my throat, soul on fire.