The cafeteria was unusually crowded that afternoon. Students jostled for tables, voices overlapping, laughter spilling across the room like waves. Lyra navigated through the chaos, notebook clutched tightly under her arm, seeking a corner where she could remain unseen.
She thought she had succeeded. She had chosen a quiet table near the back, out of the main line of sight, tucked just enough behind a pillar to feel invisible.
Then she felt it—the pull.
Kael Draven walked in.
Not casually, not unnoticed. He moved like he owned the space without needing to claim it. His dark hair fell in an artful mess across his forehead, eyes scanning casually as though deciding which presence in the room deserved attention—and which one was merely background.
Her stomach tightened. No. Stay calm. Ignore him. Invisibility is safety.
Kael's gaze, however, found her. It lingered, briefly, before he turned with a charming smile toward a group of girls at another table. He laughed softly at something one of them said, leaning closer than necessary, whispering something only they could hear. The subtle touches, the easy confidence—it all sparked something in her that she didn't like admitting.
Lyra's cheeks warmed, a strange ache of irritation blooming in her chest. She didn't want to notice. She didn't want him to have that effect on her. And yet, her attention lingered against her will.
Talia, noticing her silence, leaned in conspiratorially.
"Uh-oh," she whispered, grinning. "Look at him. Look at him! He's flirting, and you know he's doing it on purpose."
Lyra looked away quickly. "I… I don't care," she said, trying to sound casual. I do not care, she repeated in her head.
Talia, of course, did not believe her. "Right. You're not jealous. Not at all. Sure, Lyra. Totally calm."
Lyra ignored her, focusing on the notes she had been jotting in her notebook. She wrote letters she didn't plan to send, thoughts she didn't dare speak aloud. She was practicing restraint—the skill she had been honing since arrival—but her mind kept drifting back to Kael.
He didn't approach her table. Not yet. But every movement was calculated. Every glance she caught—subtle, fleeting, but unmistakable—was a reminder of his awareness.
Then, in a move that made her stomach drop, he walked past her table, speaking to one of the girls nearby. His tone was light, teasing, playful—but every so often, his gaze flicked toward Lyra, just long enough to make her heart skip a beat.
He was flirting, and she was entirely caught off guard.
By evening, Lyra retreated to her dorm room, feeling simultaneously frustrated, confused, and… alive.
Talia bounced in, eyes sparkling. "I saw everything! He's definitely watching you. And you—you were blushing! Admit it!"
Lyra groaned. "I was not blushing."
"Right," Talia said, smirking. "Not at all. Totally stoic. You're so calm, Lyra. Sure. Totally calm."
Lyra sank onto the bed, notebook open. If I write it down, it will make sense, she thought. She picked up her pen and began.
Dear Stranger,
Today, he flirted. Openly, deliberately, in front of half the cafeteria. And somehow… I noticed. I tried not to. I told myself not to. But I noticed.
I do not know what to make of it. Is this danger? Or is it… something else? He does not look at me the way he looks at her—the side girl—but he notices me, anyway. And it makes me… uncomfortable. Frustrated. Distracted. Perhaps… angry.
I do not like this feeling. And yet… I cannot ignore it.
Lyra
That night, Kael watched from a quiet corner of the campus courtyard. The letter he had placed for her earlier remained unread—he waited deliberately, enjoying the tension he created without ever touching it.
He knew he had sparked something in her. Jealousy, irritation, awareness. All of it carefully balanced with restraint. He pretended not to feel it himself, keeping his composure, keeping his mask in place.
But beneath it all… he was aware.
She notices everything, he thought. And she doesn't panic. She doesn't run. She reacts on her own terms.
That knowledge was dangerous. And thrilling.
The next day, Lyra tried to remain invisible again. She chose the library, tucked far in a corner, the hum of fluorescent lights above, the scent of old books grounding her. She tried to focus on her writing, on letters to the mysterious stranger, on her carefully maintained silence.
And yet… he appeared again. Kael, leaning against the doorway, unreadable, watching the reactions he had inspired without ever intervening.
Lyra felt her chest tighten, but she reminded herself: Observe. Learn. Choose.
Every smile he offered the girls nearby, every tilt of his head toward the cafeteria, was a deliberate play—and she was part of it. Part of the game, whether she liked it or not.
By evening, she wrote again.
Dear Stranger,
I laughed today. At myself, at him, at the absurdity of trying to remain unseen in a world that insists on noticing.
He flirts, deliberately, in front of everyone. And I… react. Against my own will, I react. Anger. Frustration. Jealousy. Distraction. Perhaps even curiosity.
I do not know what this is yet. But I will not panic. I will not retreat. I will watch, and I will choose my response.
Lyra .
Lyra set down her pen and leaned back, letting the weight of the day settle. The side girl, Kael's public charm, the whispered glances—it was all overwhelming, yes—but also exhilarating.
For the first time since arriving, she realized that being seen didn't have to be terrifying. It could be dangerous. It could be uncomfortable. But it could also be… enlightening.
And somehow, she suspected, Kael's controlled attention would teach her more about herself than silence ever could.