The halls of Kingston Academy buzzed with energy, but I moved through them as if the noise didn't exist. People glanced at me, whispered my name, and quickly looked away. Admiration mixed with fear followed me everywhere the invisible halo of being one of the three elites resting easily on my shoulders. It was expected. It was effortless.
Yet today, something or someone caught my attention immediately.
He was new. Tall, with golden hair that fell softly over his forehead, glasses perched neatly on the bridge of his nose. The way he carried himself measured, careful, yet confident drew my eyes like gravity. Most students would flinch under the weight of Kingston Academy's hierarchy. Not him.
I leaned casually against the staircase railing, my short frame unassuming, but my posture deliberate. My straight black hair was parted neatly to one side, a few strands brushing my forehead. Almond-shaped dark brown eyes scanned the hall with precision, noting every movement. My face was oval, with high cheekbones and a slightly pointed chin that gave me a quiet elegance. Pale skin, long fingers resting lightly on the railing, thin lips details people overlooked, but I noticed them all.
He didn't know I existed at least, I thought he didn't. But then, briefly, his eyes flicked in my direction. I caught the faintest hint of awareness in his gaze, a quick glance that lingered just a second too long to be random. I smiled faintly, though my expression remained calm. That small acknowledgment made my pulse quicken, subtle yet thrilling.
I cataloged him quietly: the golden strands that caught the light, the way his brown eyes moved from lockers to students, the straight line of his nose, the subtle curve of his jaw. Even in a hall full of perfection, he stood out calm, composed, yet tinged with nervous energy.
A flicker of something unfamiliar stirred in me. Fascination? Possessiveness? Perhaps both. I wanted to watch, to measure, to understand him not just for curiosity, but for a quiet, almost unbearable urge to keep him within my reach.
He adjusted his glasses, and I noticed how his fingers moved, how his shoulders shifted small, unconscious movements that revealed more than he intended. I felt a pull in my chest, a subtle tightening of focus that made the hall around me disappear. My short stature, often underestimated by others, gave me an advantage I could observe from a distance, unnoticed, and manipulate the environment subtly if I chose.
His glance had returned to the hallway, but I could tell he had sensed me. A faint tension lingered in his posture, a micro-awareness that made my heart rate spike in a way I rarely experienced.
The bell rang somewhere down the hall, but I didn't move. My gaze followed him, noting the way he walked, the slight tension in his shoulders, the soft sway of his hair. He didn't know it yet, but he had stepped into my orbit.
And I intended to watch him carefully, quietly, patiently until he became mine, before he even realized it.
The hall around me continued to buzz, but for the first time in weeks, I wasn't focused on the other students. My attention was fixed entirely on the golden-haired boy, and I had already begun counting the moments, analyzing the space, and imagining the ways I could draw him closer into my orbit.