The next morning, my body ached, sore in places I hadn't known could hurt, heavy with a mix of exhaustion and emotions.
I caught sight of Nathiel before the mirror, getting ready. He wore a light blue jacket and ripped jeans, his hair perfectly styled like he had just stepped out of a fantasy.
"You up?" he asked casually.
I nodded.
"Good. Get washed up, eat, then leave. That's the routine for all those I sleep with," he said calmly before turning away.
His words stung—a cold reminder that for him, I was just another night.
My first time, the first thing I wanted to remember forever, was apparently nothing more than routine to him. He was so good at it he must do this often. Maybe with other guys. Maybe even with girls.
My body protested as I got up, muscles aching.
I sighed, grabbing my clothes and heading to the bathroom, trying to ignore the chaotic beating of my heart as I caught sight of the marks on my skin.
My once pristine, unmarked body was now painted with reds and purples—bite marks and bruises that told the story of last night's fire.
After getting fresh and cleaned up, I fixed the messy bed and tidied the room. I even threw Nathiel's clothes into the washing machine—he didn't seem like the type to clean up or care much about those things.
Then I headed downstairs. Nathiel was at the dining table, scrolling on his phone, his face calm—almost cold.
"The order's here. Hurry up and eat," he said without looking at me.
I nodded and sat down across from him. He was so indifferent. I knew he'd said himself he didn't do feelings or care after it was over. Yet, I still felt a sting of hurt. He'd ordered burger, pizza, and fries for breakfast, which made me furrow my brow.
"Is this all you eat for breakfast?" I asked, poking at the burger but eating it anyway.
"Yeah. So what else should I eat?" he shrugged, like he'd never thought of anything else.
I gulped down my milk. "This is junk food, not good for you—especially first thing in the morning."
"Oh, you're one wise kid. Don't like it?" he asked, eyes still on his phone.
"No, I do like it. Just... it's not right for mornings," I replied, munching on chips.
"Ah, well, whatever. I don't care. Don't bother me with unwanted opinions," he said, rolling his eyes as he munched on fries.
"Okay," I said quietly, finishing my burger and some fries before clearing my plate.
The sink was full of unwashed dishes—a mess. I glanced at him, and he noticed. "Ignore it," he said casually. "The maid's on holiday for a week now, so it's like this."
A call came through on his phone; he picked up and moved away to eat.
'So you really can't wash them yourself,' I thought, sighing. I turned on the tap and took the dishes to clean, including his.
Afterward, I grabbed my bag from the floor, brushed it off, and headed to the door. I sat down to tie my shoes.
"Why'd you wash them?" Nathiel's voice startled me as he stood behind me, leaning casually against the wall.
"It was a mess. And you can take it as my thank you for last night. It might not mean much to you, but it was special for me. I'm grateful you let me have that moment," I said, tying the last knot and standing up, smiling softly at him.
"You're a good boy," he said suddenly, pushing off the wall and stepping closer.
I backed up, confused and nervous—then flinched when his hand slid past me, pressing against the wall to pin me there.
My fingers gripped my bag strap tightly.
"What—?" I started, but he cut me off, lifting my chin with one hand and leaning in to kiss me. His kiss was rough, breathless, and urgent, his tongue flicking over my lips.
I almost fell to my knees when he broke the kiss, eyes swirling as he watched me closely.
"Your expressions are definitely eye-catching," he murmured, then stepped back.
His hand slid under my sweater, pulling the collar up to hide the marks on my neck.
"Good. Now you can leave," he said.
I felt a rock settle on my chest but nodded.
"Thank you," I said, bowing politely before opening the door and stepping out. I don't know why, but something inside me felt weird.
Thank god I didn't have morning classes, so I could go back to my dorm and rest a bit. My dormmate and close friend, James, was already out for his classes. I laid down on my bed, staring at the ceiling, remembering last night feeling shy and awkward. My heart was pounding loudly, and all I could think about was him—Nathiel.
Would we ever meet again? But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get him off my mind, even as I headed to my classes. I sat there bored and alone, flipping through a book.
Suddenly, I heard girls whispering and fangirling nearby. Curious, I glanced up from my book—and my eyes widened.
It was him. Nathiel. Same clothes, same hairstyle from earlier, smirking as he flirted with the girls around him.
What was he doing here? Wait.. We go to the same school? The same classes? I couldn't be mistaken. Oh my god.
My face flustered as I hugged my book tighter. James, sitting next to me, noticed my reaction. His voice snapped me back to reality.
"What happened? You look frozen. Don't tell me you're also frozen seeing that Greek god," he said, glancing over at Nathiel, who was now leaning close to a girl, gently brushing her hair away. I didn't think he even noticed me—or cared.
"You know him?" I asked.
"Bruh, who doesn't? He's Nathiel Starlight—the campus heartthrob and certified heartbreaker. Rumors say he's slept with half the girls—and guys—around here. He's the only son of the country's most powerful tycoon, owns half this area, including this campus," James said, leaving me speechless.
"He's also known for being heartless. Rejects girls harshly, punches anyone who pisses him off, and legit vomits at the word 'love.' He only attends classes when he's in the mood, and today's apparently the lucky day," James added, leaning back in his seat while I took it all in, nodding slowly.
I glanced at Nathiel again—and flinched when I realized he was looking my way too. Our eyes locked. His lips curved into a smirk, clearly surprised—and maybe even a little amazed—to see me here.
I looked away quickly, fidgeting nervously with my book just as the professor walked in, finally letting me relax.
As soon as the class ended, James dashed off to his basketball match, while I hurriedly packed my bag, wanting to disappear before Nathiel noticed me.
The classroom was emptying fast, and I didn't want to face him—not now.
"Where do you think you're running?" His deep voice froze me in place.
I glanced beside me, heart skipping a beat. Nathiel was standing there like a king, the classroom door quietly clicking shut behind him.
When did he close it?
Suddenly, it was just the two of us.
"What are you shy about? We just did it last night, remember?" His voice was low and teasing.
"I didn't expect to see you here. But I'm glad you're here." He smirked, then casually sat down beside me while I awkwardly stood like a coward.
Without warning, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down next to him. His other arm slid behind my back, resting on my shoulder, pulling me closer until our bodies pressed against each other. His face hovered close, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.
"God, I've seen a lot of shy, blushing faces but yours? Yours makes it impossible to look away. It's too cute—too much of a damn turn-on." His dark eyes locked onto mine, and my cheeks burned deeper as I tried to look away.
"You have such beautiful eyes," he murmured, searching my gaze. "Purple eyes with chestnut hair... what a beautiful combo."
Clearly, he was flirting, probably saying the same to half the girls on campus. But I stayed silent, looking anywhere but at him, knowing my heart would flip if I met his eyes again.
Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "By the way, who was the guy you were sitting with earlier? The one you were so close with?"
The question caught me off guard. I met his gaze. "Who? James? He's my close friend and my dormmate," I replied.
He nodded, smirking slightly.
Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed me hard—roughly, fiercely. My body trembled, frozen, unable to move as he still held my wrists against his lap. His other hand caressed my shoulder gently before sliding up my neck, fingers tracing sensually along the back of my neck, sending shivers through me.
When he finally broke the kiss, he smirked at me, eyes glinting as I breathed heavily, my mind spinning and heart pounding.
"Cute," he murmured. "Be a good boy and don't move." His voice dropped to a sultry whisper as he nuzzled his face into my neck.
My eyes squeezed shut, lips biting down as he left wet kisses, sucking on my neck skin, sending electric goosebumps rippling through me. The feeling was overwhelming—incredibly good. My neck burned red with his saliva as he pulled back slightly to study my face—sweaty, eyes glossy, lips swollen from the kiss and my biting. His eyes flicked with something wild as he licked his lips, then finally released my wrists, cupped my face, and pulled me in for a deeper, more desperate kiss. His mouth was a vacuum on mine, aggressive and hungry, devouring my breath and strength. I gripped his jacket tightly.
He rolled his tongue over my swollen, saliva-slick lips, licking them clean before breaking away.
"Guess I found a reason to attend classes daily now," he said lowly, breathy, his lips still wet.
I was too dazed to respond, my breaths heavy and uneven, staring at him in confusion. Then it clicked—this was what he meant when he said he was glad I was here.
The next day, when Nathiel actually showed up for class two days in a row for the first time ever, gossip spread like wildfire.
And the rumors only grew louder when he sat right beside me.
I was sitting at my usual spot, alone, reading quietly when Nathiel walked in—smiling like a celebrity. Girls fluttered around him, giggling and flirting, some even asking him to sit with them. But Nathiel ignored them all and strode straight to me, sliding in beside me—way too close for comfort.
"You smell extra good today," he said, completely ignoring the confused look on my face.
James, who normally sat with me, looked confused but didn't say a word. Instead, he moved and sat somewhere else, leaving me awkward and unsure. "Why are you sitting here?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Why? You want him to sit here?" Nathiel's tone suddenly went cold. I sighed, deciding to ignore him and went back to my book. But Nathiel leaned lazily against the desk, his eyes fixed on me, making it impossible to concentrate.
When the professor started the lesson, I tried to focus, but Nathiel shamelessly rested his chin on his hand and stared at me without saying a word.
"What are you staring at?" I whispered.
"Your eyes."
"Huh?" I blinked, confused.
He sounded almost lost, his voice low. "I aren't legit even kidding anymore—your eyes are really beautiful."
My face burned hot as I looked away and started scribbling notes, my heart pounding out of control. It was normal for Nathiel to act like this, but for me I was going crazy. The professor, known for being strict and taking no nonsense, finally lost his patience.
"Nathiel, will you focus? If you don't want to pay attention, why did you even come to class? Just because you're rich doesn't mean I'll tolerate you goofing off in my class!" His voice was loud, strict—scaring everyone, including me. Nathiel, however, didn't even flinch.
The professor, growing angrier, threw his marker toward Nathiel, aiming directly at him. But suddenly, it veered off and headed right for me.
I shut my eyes, bracing for the hit. I heard gasps around the room.but I felt nothing.
Opening my eyes, I saw Nathiel casually catch the marker mere inches from my face—so effortlessly and coolly that every girl in the class—including me—blushed.
Nathiel finally glanced at the professor with a lazy smirk. "Mr. Prof, I'm not bothering the class, am I? So why do you care? Just keep teaching and ignore me," he said with icy confidence.
The professor grumbled, clearly deflated, and went back to the lesson.
I exhaled sharply, clutching my chest. "Are you crazy? Aren't you scared he'll complain about you?" I whispered.
"If you think I am, then you don't know me at all," Nathiel smirked, tossing and twirling the marker between his fingers before flicking it out the window like it was nothing.
Before I could even think of reacting, his hand suddenly landed on my thigh, fingers pressing firmly, dangerously close. "What are you doing?" I almost shouted, my heart pounding.
He smirked, tightening his grip. "Having fun. Why...isn't it exciting?"
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady, but inside I was trembling. Yes, it was exciting—more than anything I'd ever wanted. His touch grew more sensual, fingers digging deeper along my inner thigh.
I squeezed my legs together, but with just one hand, he effortlessly spread them apart again, never letting go, never stopping. I bit my lip, praying no one noticed.
The entire class felt like a torturous playground—pleasure and pain mixed into every moment.
When the bell finally rang, Nathiel still hadn't removed his hand. He brushed off every girl and guy who tried to approach him, even cutting off James when he tried to talk to me. He waited until the classroom was empty, then—without a word—he kissed me rough.
"Mgnmmm... Nathiel..." I whimpered into his lips.
"Yeah, I'm here," he murmured, smirking. His eyes told me he wasn't planning to stop anytime soon.
No, he was only starting...
Days passed like this—Nathiel showing up just to play with me in class, leaving me breathless, kissing and teasing me endlessly, even doing it with me by pulling me to empty classrooms or his apartment, I couldn't resist him.
But the rumors started—whispers about us everywhere.
And while I was falling... he wasn't. Maybe he liked the thrill, the game, but it wasn't love. I knew it deep down, and it hurt.
He'd kiss me breathless and then turn right around to flirt with other girls—sometimes even make out with them. I caught him once, and he acted like nothing happened. Like it didn't bother him at all.
It hurt like hell.
But I kept telling myself not to fall for it—that he'd already said it: this wasn't love.
Still, I kept falling, drowning in it. Love—the kind I'd finally learned was magical and beautiful but also the kind that cut like a knife, stabbing me every time I saw him with someone else.
He didn't care about feelings.
So I stayed silent and endured the pain and didn't bother him with something he clearly hates and warned me about...