ARIA
The first thing I felt was… humming.
Like the radiator of my dad's old refrigerator, the one that never stopped vibrating no matter how many times you kicked it.
Except this time, the hum was coming from me.
My skull throbbed. My eyelids felt like they weighed ten pounds each. Every sound in the room was too loud — the faint ticking of a clock, the rasp of breathing that wasn't mine, the steady, grounding rhythm of a heartbeat.
When I finally cracked my eyes open, I realized I wasn't in my room.
No soft sheets. No familiar vanilla candles. Just polished wood, leather, and the faint scent of ink, pine, and… him.
Professor Hedgegrove.
Darien.
I was in his office. In his arms.
I blinked slowly. My cheek was pressed against his chest, my body curled across his lap like I belonged there.
He looked… unfair. His white shirt was half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, vest gone. His tie hung loose like he'd fought with it and lost. His hair — usually immaculate — looked like he'd run his hands through it a hundred times.
How long had I been out?
I tilted my head up weakly. "Professor?" My voice came out small, hoarse.
His eyes opened immediately, sharp but softening when he saw me awake. "Aria."
"What… happened?" I croaked. "Why does my body feel like it ran a marathon and got hit by a truck halfway through?"
He hesitated — and that hesitation made my stomach knot. "You fainted," he said finally, voice low. "Your body overheated. I didn't want to move you."
"Overheated," I echoed, staring at him like he'd told me the sky was green. "Professor, I'm not a CPU."
Something in his jaw twitched. "It's more complicated than that."
I pushed at his chest weakly. "Then explain it."
He caught my wrists gently, holding them still. "Not now."
I froze, feeling the heat of his hands on my skin. I couldn't breathe. The air between us felt too close, too heavy.
"Aria," he said quietly, "you need to calm down. You were unconscious for hours."
I blinked. "Hours?"
He nodded once.
I looked around, finally catching sight of the clock on the wall.
9:30 p.m.
I'd come here while the sun was still out.
Now it was pitch black outside.
"Oh my God." I scrambled off his lap — or tried to. My legs wobbled like jelly. The room spun.
Darien was up before I could fall, his arm sliding around my waist, steadying me like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Easy," he murmured. "You're still weak."
"Professor," I said, panic rising fast, "if anyone sees me here— if anyone saw—"
"They won't," he cut in, voice firm. "No one will know."
"That's not—" I swallowed hard. "If the Dean finds out, I'll get expelled. You'll lose your job. This is—"
"Aria." His tone silenced me. "Breathe."
I did. Barely. My chest heaved, air catching somewhere between fear and something else. Something I couldn't name.
He looked down at me — really looked — and I felt like the rest of the world slipped out of focus. His eyes weren't cold like they used to be. They were molten, unreadable, pulling me in even when every logical part of me screamed to back away.
"You scared me," he said quietly, thumb brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. "You just collapsed."
I laughed shakily. "You say that like I meant to."
He didn't laugh. His gaze dropped to my lips for half a second too long. "You shouldn't be here."
"Then tell me to leave," I whispered.
He didn't.
The silence between us was deafening — thick and electric. I could hear both our heartbeats now, too loud, too close, syncing up in a way that didn't make sense.
He stepped closer. My back hit the edge of the desk. His hand was still at my waist, anchoring me, burning through the fabric of my shirt.
"Darien," I said softly. It was the first time I'd said his name without thinking of titles or rules.
He exhaled, slow and deliberate. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."
"Then show me," I whispered before I could stop myself.
Something broke in his restraint. His hand slid up to my jaw, his thumb tracing the corner of my mouth, and then his lips were on mine — slow, searching, and devastating.
The kiss wasn't gentle. It wasn't polite. It was a claim.
Like he'd been holding back for too long and finally let himself breathe.
And God help me — I kissed him back.
The world melted. My heart roared. The hum beneath my skin surged to life again, familiar and terrifying.
I didn't know if it was adrenaline or Haze — but it didn't matter.
All I knew was that I didn't feel broken anymore.
° ° ° °
My breath caught somewhere between us. His lips lingered near mine for a fraction too long, like even the air didn't want to break.
Then it hit me.
Reality.
Every damn piece of it.
I pulled back fast — hands on his chest, eyes wide, heart galloping so hard it hurt. "I— I can't—"
His eyes flicked open, pupils blown dark, chest rising and falling in sharp, controlled breaths. "Aria."
"Don't." The word came out broken, more plea than command. "We can't do this. If anyone saw— if anyone finds out—"
He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just looked at me, and that was somehow worse. His gaze felt like gravity, pulling even when I was trying to stand on my own.
I backed up until my hip hit the desk. "You'll lose everything. I'll get expelled. You're my professor." The words spilled out like they were on fire. "This— whatever that was— it's not supposed to happen."
He finally exhaled, slow and quiet. "You think I planned it?"
"No, I—" I shook my head, trying to make sense of the chaos in my chest. "It's just… you make me feel—" I stopped. I couldn't even say it.
His jaw tightened. "What?"
"Too much," I whispered reverently.
Something in his eyes softened — pain, recognition, maybe both. He took a step forward, and my body betrayed me by not stepping back.
"Princess," he said quietly, the word curling around me like smoke, "you almost died in my arms today. You think I'm letting you walk out of here shaking like this?"
"I'm fine," I lied. My voice cracked right down the middle.
He looked at me for a long, dangerous moment — the kind of silence that says everything words can't. Then he shook his head slightly. "You're not."
I tried to move around him. He caught my wrist, gentle but unyielding.
"Darien," I said softly, "please."
His thumb brushed the inside of my wrist — a pulse against a pulse. The touch wasn't commanding. It was grounding. "I'm not keeping you here," he said, voice low. "I just need to know you won't collapse the moment you walk out that door."
The heat in his tone wasn't anger. It was something else — fear dressed as control.
I swallowed hard. "You don't have to protect me."
He leaned in, eyes unreadable. "You're wrong, Aria. I do."
My throat went dry. His hand fell away slowly, like letting go cost him something.
"I'll drive you home," he said quietly.
I wanted to argue. To tell him no. But the way he said it — calm, final, unshakable — made it clear that I didn't really have a choice.
And maybe… for tonight, I didn't want one.
° ° ° °
I walked to the staff parking lot with Darien's arm around my waist. It seemed like if he let me go for even a minute, I'll disappear.
"Darien", I said softly as we walked through the empty campus grounds
"Princess".
"I wanna know you. Can I ask you a few questions?"
He was quiet for a few heartbeats and I felt like I had overstepped.
"Nevermind. You're my professor. I understand if you don't want me prying".
"Aria, you're not prying. What'd you want to know?"
"How old are you? Everyone says that you're the youngest professor on campus. And the hottest, with your piercing gray eyes, sharp cheekbones and handsome-", I slapped my hand over my mouth when I noticed myself ranting, "I'm sorry".
"Aria", he murmured and stopped, "I need you to stop apologizing".
"I was… ranting", I said in a tiny voice. Those gray eyes stared at me, dissecting and assessing. It wasn't nerve wracking. It was actually refreshing. I loved his eyes on me. It felt good to be seen.
"I love hearing you. Don't keep that from me, okay princess?" He cupped my cheek with one hand.
My breathing deepened and I leaned into his touch. "Why'd you call me that?"
"Because you're royalty".
His eyes twinkled with mischief and I felt heat creep up my neck. "You saw me. Piggy back with Lucia, pretending she was a royal carriage".
His lips twitched. "It was the funniest and most Aria thing ever. I loved it".
My heart doubled in size. "You don't have a problem with me behaving like a toddler?"
"No. It's cute. And to answer your question, I'm 34".
My eyes bulged out of it's sockets. "No way. I never would've thought. I always believed you were at least 25. Not like you're too old or anything".
He chuckled. "I'm flattered princess".
"Where are you from Professor Darien Hedgegrove?"
"No. No. No".
I looked up at him, certain I had curiosity painted on my face. "What's wrong?"
"You will call me by my name when it's just the two of us, understand?"
"Yes sir"
A low groan rumbled in his chest. "You really don't know what you do to me. Thornsvale. I'm from Thornsvale".
"That sounds made up", I laughed.
He looked at me with such intensity that made my insides turn to mush. I was a goner for him. I knew that I'd do whatever he wanted like an obedient pup.
"Can I ask you a few questions?"
I nodded and when he quirked a brow, I quickly said, "Yes sir".
"That's my girl".
I felt his praise like molten lava in my veins.
"Have you heard about wolves?"
I furrowed my brows. "Artic wolves or regular wolves?"
"Werewolves".
I felt something familiar zing through me but I ignored it. "They're not real".
He nodded and we walked all the way to his car in comfortable silence. I gasped.
"Is everything alright?"
"That night. When I was shit drunk, were you the one who dropped me off at my dad's place?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"I couldn't remember who dropped me off. Crazy cause I could remember the car we drove in".
His gaze hardened in a beat. "Don't ever drink like that again".
I nodded. "I won't. I promise".