NOAH
The rain began softly—barely a whisper against the glass—just as I stirred from where I lay, tucked against Leo's chest. His fingers traced gentle circles across my back, lazy and possessive, like he had all the time in the world and no intention of sharing me with it. He always touched like that. Like I belonged to him, even when I didn't know if he still wanted me.
His heartbeat was steady beneath my cheek, the scent of cedarwood and coconut clinging to his skin. Familiar. Too familiar. That was the danger of Leo—he smelled like home, even when he wasn't safe anymore.
"You're staring," I muttered, not bothering to open my eyes.
"I always stare," he replied, voice low, syrupy. "You're peaceful when you're not talking."
"And you're an asshole even when you are," I murmured, kicking his shin lightly under the blanket.
He laughed against my hair, the kind of laugh that used to make my stomach flip. Now it made my chest hurt. "Still your asshole, though."
I should've kissed him. I should've held onto that sliver of warmth, pretended the distance between us wasn't getting wider. But I didn't. I just lay there, letting the silence thicken—until his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
He groaned. "Ignore it."
I didn't. I reached for it, screen lighting up in my hand.
Milo: Party at Dismas East. Cassian's throwing it. Come or rot in boredom.
I raised an eyebrow. "Your chaos twin is summoning you."
Leo propped himself up, reading the message over my shoulder. His grin was immediate. "God, Milo never changes. He's probably already high and half-naked."
"You going?" I asked, trying not to sound too tired.
He turned to look at me, playful, charming. "Only if you come."
I hesitated. "I don't know. I kind of like the idea of staying boring tonight."
He rolled over, trapping me beneath him, kissing the side of my neck. "Honeybun… you've never been to one of Cassian's parties. They're… something else."
Cassian Vale.
I'd heard the name whispered in hallways, seen his face in passing. Upperclassman. Rich. Unreachable. Unbothered. Beautiful in a cruel, surgical kind of way—like he was made to be admired from a distance, not touched. There were stories, too. Strange ones. Dangerous ones. People said his parties didn't end. They just bled into mornings no one remembered.
"Fine," I said finally. "One drink. No drugs. I leave when I want."
Leo kissed me like I'd just agreed to spend forever with him.
* * *
The air changed the moment we stepped into Dismas East.
It wasn't a dorm. Not really. It was a cathedral of temptation—soaring ceilings, cracked walls, antique chandeliers glowing like dying stars. Music poured out from every corner, thick and primal, bass-heavy enough to make the floor feel like it was breathing. The smell of weed and wine mingled with perfume, sweat, and smoke. People were everywhere…on couches, staircases, pressed against doorframes and each other.
Leo was gone within minutes, swept up in Milo's arms and dragged into the thrum of chaos. I didn't even get a full goodbye.
I wandered. Alone.
Everyone here looked like art. Or sin. Or both. Lit majors with smudged eyeliner, philosophy kids talking with their hands, and girls with lace gloves holding drinks like spells. I kept walking until I reached the edge of the crowd, drawn by something I couldn't name.
That's when I saw him.
Cassian Vale.
He stood barefoot on the second-floor balcony, shirt open, skin streaked with blood….his or someone else's, I couldn't tell. His dark curls were damp, clinging to his temples. He was dancing like the music belonged to him. Like we were all just watching a ritual.
Then he smiled.
Not at the crowd. At me.
I froze. The room blurred. I didn't know how he saw me through it all, but he did. Eyes locked. My lungs stalled.
And then—he jumped.
I gasped, but he landed effortlessly, right in front of me.
Up close, he was worse. Devastating. Bruised knuckles, a cut on his lip, the smell of iron and incense. His eyes didn't look at me—they pierced. Like he was pulling something from me I hadn't agreed to give.
"You looked thirsty," he said, holding out a red plastic cup I never saw him holding.
"I'm not," I replied.
"You sure?" he tilted his head, unconvinced. "You don't look like you want to be here."
I glanced around. "That obvious?"
"You've got the look. The kind people wear when their heart's still loyal, but their soul's halfway out the door."
I didn't know what to say. My mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Cassian stepped closer, closing the inches between us like he was testing me. His voice dropped.
"I like the ones who think they can be saved."
Then, like smoke, he was gone. Swallowed by the party.
I stood there, shaking, heart galloping, unsure if I should run or stay.
Leo found me later on the staircase. Eyes glassy. High. Happy.
"Cassian's nuts tonight, right?" he laughed. "Did you see him jump?"
"Yeah," I said softly. "I saw."
He didn't hear the crack in my voice. He never did anymore.
I lost him again soon after that. Milo dragged him upstairs and I didn't follow. I couldn't.
I sat alone, watching strangers blur past, but I kept feeling it—him. Cassian. He was everywhere and nowhere. Dancing in doorways. Kissing strangers like it meant something. Pouring champagne on someone's chest just to set fire to it. The crowd worshipped him. Or feared him. Maybe both.
And always… always, those eyes found me.
Twice.
Three times.
Each time, my breath stopped.
I shouldn't have stayed. I wanted to leave. But my feet wouldn't move.
Eventually, I folded myself on the staircase, elbows on my knees, heart in my hands.
That's when I felt it.
A touch. Barely there. A hand on my shoulder.
Cassian.
He crouched in front of me, eyes low, dangerous and soft all at once. Like a predator pretending not to be hungry.
"I thought you left," he said.
"I didn't."
"Pity," he murmured. "You looked like a runner."
"I'm not," I whispered.
"Even better."
His fingers brushed the edge of my sleeve, deliberate, lingering.
"You shouldn't do that," I said, breath uneven.
"Why not?"
"Because I have a boyfriend."
Cassian smiled like he already knew that.
"So?"
There was a silence that stretched too long.
Then… something shifted in his eyes. Something dark. Something cold. He looked me over—once, twice—and the disgust that flickered across his face before he turned and disappeared again… it burned more than any touch.
I sat there long after he left. Haunted. Hollow.