The next morning, I woke up to something unexpected. Nathiel was already awake.. staring at me. Before I could even say anything, he leaned down and kissed me softly.
"Good morning," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. I blinked, surprised.
And the surprise didn't stop there. He followed me into the bathroom and actually helped me wash up—gently, patiently. Like he didn't want to let me go for even a second.
Afterwards, as I toweled my hair dry, he spoke again. "I'm sorry and thank you for the cookies. They were really delicious," he said, rubbing the back of his head, awkward.
I turned to him, wide-eyed. "Wait. You actually ate them?"
He nodded, his gaze dropping. "Yeah If you ever make more maybe give some to me too?" There was a faint blush creeping up his ears. The Nathiel I knew—the smug, guarded Nathiel—was actually being shy.
I blinked. Then suddenly burst into laughter.
"Okay sure. I will," I said, smiling wide.
He stared at me, stunned. Then without warning, he reached out, cupped my face, and kissed me again—deep and passionate.
"What was that for?" I asked, breathless.
He avoided my eyes. "Nothing You just looked really cute right then," he mumbled, almost to himself. His neck flushed red.
I stared at him, stunned—and probably just as red. We both turned away at the same time, hiding our faces and pretending we weren't completely freaking out inside.
I tried calming my heartbeat, still stunned by how soft he was being.
Nathiel just stared at his hands for a moment, then covered his face entirely with both palms, like he couldn't believe himself.
After that, we pretended to act cool. Like nothing had happened. We were walking back slowly, the silence between us calm for once. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve.
"Uhm can I ask a question?" I finally spoke.
He turned his head slightly, hands in his pockets. "What is it?"
I hesitated. Then asked softly, "Why do you hate love so much? I mean falling in love can be a good thing, you know?"
He stopped walking.
When I looked up, his gaze was already on me—steady and unreadable. But something behind his eyes flickered. He looked into the distance, then back at me, and said: "I just don't understand what love really is. To me, it's boring. A weakness."
I blinked. He wasn't angry, just honest.
He continued, voice low but clear.
"Everyone who falls in love becomes weak. I've seen it. My dad... he loved my mom a lot. You'd think that's something to be happy about, right? And I was. I used to love watching him shower her with affection, doing everything just to make her smile."
He looked away then, jaw clenching.
"But when she passed away it broke him. He wasn't the same. He changed completely. He stopped smiling, stopped looking at me. It was like he froze... became this cold, distant rock. I guess it's because I resemble her a lot. Maybe looking at me hurts him."
My heart ached at the rawness in his voice. I stayed quiet, letting him speak.
"Two years. It's been two whole years since I moved into my own place. He's never once visited. Not even a phone call. And I've seen other people too—losing themselves for love, breaking apart, giving up everything. So tell me what's the point?"
He looked at me again, eyes hard. "Love makes people weak and distant. I don't want that. I want to be free. I don't want something called 'love' to cage me."
I stared at him, surprised.
Everyone has a past but I never imagined this was his.
I bit my lip, then spoke gently. "Half of what you said it's true. Love can feel like a weakness sometimes. But it can also be the reason someone finds strength."
He furrowed his brows slightly, but didn't stop me. "Your mother—she was your dad's happiness. Losing her must've felt like losing his whole world. That doesn't mean he stopped loving you. He's probably just... broken. Alone. Grieving."
I looked up at him. "Have you ever tried talking to him? After she passed away?" He looked at me, something softening. "I I did. But he ignored me," he mumbled, almost like a child sulking. I smiled gently. "How many times did you try? Did you ever stop him before he walked away, just to make him sit down? Maybe just sitting beside him, offering him your shoulder even sharing a drink together—sometimes that's all it takes. Just showing you're still there for him."
He didn't respond, just stared at me, eyes locked onto mine like he was listening deeper than words.
"Nothing in this world makes you weak, Nathiel. Not if you choose to be strong. If you love someone, don't fear becoming vulnerable. Maybe think of it like this love could make you stronger, too." I paused, watching his expression change slightly.
"When your mom was sick, did your dad just give up? I bet he brought in the best doctors. Did everything he could, right?" I asked, he looked at me as if i had calculated the world's biggest math as he slowly nodded.
"see, he fought for her. That's not weakness—that's strength. He just couldn't change the fate written for her. She was meant to leave... and she did. But now, your dad is just lonely. Still grieving."
I touched his arm lightly, giving him a warm smile. "Try talking to him again. Tell him 'Being so cold and distant with your only son wouldn't make Mom happy. It would make her sad.' I'm sure that'll reach him. Somewhere deep down, he's just waiting for someone to pull him out of that cold shell."
Nathiel stayed frozen for a second. Then his gaze dropped to the ground, his face unreadable. I turned to keep walking ahead... until I heard his voice again.
"Lucan." I turned around.
"Wait for me," he said, softly smiling.
"I'll be back."
And with that, he turned around and ran, disappearing down the path ahead. I stared after him for a moment, heart full.
I smiled to myself, lifting a thumb in his direction.
"I hope you two get along again for both your sakes," I whispered.
The classes passed by, but my mind wasn't fully on the lectures. I was focused—at least I tried to be—but part of me kept waiting, wondering if Nathiel would come back. Wondering how things went between him and his father.
When the final class ended, the room slowly emptied, the sound of students chatting and chairs scraping against the floor fading into silence.
As usual, I stayed behind, at my usual spot near the window, jotting down notes with my earphones in, soft music playing to keep me company. I didn't even notice when someone entered—until the door shut firmly behind them with a quiet click.
I looked up, pushing one earbud out. "Oh... you're back. Took your sweet time, huh?"
I smiled softly, happy to see him. But before I could say another word, Nathiel was already in front of me, leaning over the desk, his lips capturing mine in a sudden, breath-stealing kiss. His hands planted on the desk, caging me gently as he kissed like a man starved of air.
"Mmph—" I let out a muffled laugh against his lips, pulling back slightly to catch my breath. "You look too excited, What, did you two make up?"
I watched him kneel down in front of me, his palms resting on the desk beside my hands, looking up at me with a smile that felt like sunlight breaking through clouds. His whole face had changed—brighter, softer, lighter. "We did," he breathed, almost giddy, like a child sharing a secret treasure. "You were right. I bought Dad his favorite drink just sat with him, talked like you said. And when I asked how he was doing…" He let out a short breath of disbelief. "He just broke down. Apologized for ignoring me. Everything. It's we really made up." His happiness was so pure it made my chest feel warm.
"That's... That's really good," I said, smiling sincerely. "I'm happy for you."
But then his gaze fixed on me, playful but soft. "I told Dad about you."
I blinked. "You did?"
He nodded, grin widening. "He wants you to come over for dinner sometime."
My face heated instantly, eyes darting away. "O-Oh. Well, we can...we can talk about that later..."
Nathiel just chuckled at my flustered reaction.
The next moment, he was standing again, sliding into the chair beside me, close—too close—and without a word, his hand found mine under the table, intertwining our fingers with gentle ease.
Then, like a switch flipped, his lips were on mine again, deeper this time. No rush, but filled with something else—something possessive, something soft yet wanting. His other hand slipped around my waist, pulling me against him until I could feel his warmth through the layers of my clothes.
But then his hand slid up under my sweater, fingertips brushing against my bare skin, hot and teasing.
I broke the kiss immediately. "Hey."
His eyes glinted with mischief. "Relax. No one's here. Door's locked."
His lips trailed along my jaw as his hand continued to explore, careful but deliberate, testing how far I'd let him go. I should have stopped him more firmly, but his warmth, his happiness, his gentleness—after everything—made me falter.
I sighed, cheeks flushed, lips brushing his again. "You're impossible..." But even as I said that, I found myself giving in.
It was a new day, and I found myself at the library again, standing between tall bookshelves, eyes scanning the spines for something interesting.
Every now and then, my gaze would flick down to my phone, checking the name glowing softly on the screen—Nathiel. He wasn't far, leaning casually against a nearby table with his arms crossed, watching me like I was the only thing worth noticing in the room. His usual lazy, amused expression was plastered on his face.
"Need help?" he called out, voice playful.
"Or can you even reach that high?"
I shot him a glare. "I'm not short. Okay? I can reach just fine."
With a dramatic roll of my eyes, I continued flipping through the shelf. Behind me, I could hear him chuckling quietly to himself, clearly entertained. But then, a small group of girls approached him, giggling, trying to start a conversation. They probably thought he was just standing alone, giving them an opportunity. Big mistake.
Before they could even finish their greeting, Nathiel's entire expression shifted. Gone was the teasing smile—replaced with something sharp and cold. His voice dropped low, like gravel dragging against stone. "Can you move out of my face?"
The growl was deep, icy, enough to make even me shiver—and I wasn't the target. The girls flinched, stumbling back with wide eyes before scattering away like frightened birds.
Without sparing them another glance, he walked straight toward me. "What now?" I asked, raising a brow as I pretended to stay focused on the books.
"Nothing," he said smoothly, lips curling into a smug grin. "Just thought you might need help."
I smirked right back. "Oh, you wanna help? Sure."
With that, I turned and dumped the pile of books I'd gathered right into his arms.
He blinked, surprised, before bursting out laughing. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," I said sweetly, spinning on my heel and strolling deeper into the rows of books. "Puppies follow, don't they?"
And follow he did, trailing behind with an exaggerated sulk as he carried my growing pile like a loyal servant.
"Are you done yet?" he groaned.
I pulled out one last book, holding it up in triumph. "Yep. This one—and I'm done."
Clutching it to my chest, I giggled softly to myself, satisfied. He watched me for a beat, his sulking melting into something softer. Then, with that suddenness he was becoming famous for, he stepped forward and kissed me—quick but deep, his teeth tugging lightly at my bottom lip before pulling away.
"Hey!" I whisper-hissed, swatting at him with the book. "We're outside."
He just laughed again, unbothered. "No one's watching." Before I could scold him again, his tone shifted, more casual. "You wanna go on a bike ride tonight?"
I blinked. "What? A bike ride? Why is it a date?" i teased slightly only to get shocked myself when he didn't deny, His lips only lifted into that smug curve of his, not saying another word, just coolly glancing at the books like it was nothing.
"What do u say?" He asked, eyes watching me close with a soft smile.
The realization hit me, making my heart skip, and before I embarrassed myself by standing there like a fish out of water, I nodded. "Sure. Eight o'clock?"
He nodded, but then his brows furrowed. "I'll come pick you up."
"No way," I shot back quickly. "Can't leave the dorm before curfew. I'll come by myself."
He looked ready to argue but finally gave in, pouting slightly. "Fine. But I'm waiting. Don't leave me hanging."
I smiled softly. "I won't."
As I watched him standing there with that pout, arms full of my books, I couldn't help but feel my heart thud again—louder this time.
It was exactly 7:50 PM when I stepped out onto the street. The road was empty, almost eerily quiet, with only the faint hum of streetlights above me. I scrolled through my phone lazily, smiling when I saw Nathiel's text. I'm already here.
I was just about to speed up when I heard it—footsteps. Not again.
I'd been hearing faint footsteps since the moment I left the dorm. I thought it was just my imagination. But this time, it was real.
I gripped my phone tightly and spun around on instinct. And froze.
"You...what are you doing here?" I breathed out, fear prickling up my spine.
Logan stood there with a twisted grin, his eyes wild, face flushed like a predator finding cornered prey.
"You think I'd just let you go like that?" he hissed. "I need revenge, don't I? No one escapes me unless I let them... and you?" His smirk deepened into something downright evil. "I'm never letting you go."
Terror climbed up my throat. "What the hell!"
"Finally," he whispered, licking his lips, "I'll have you all to myself."
"Shit." Without wasting a second, I spun on my heel and ran—hard. His heavy footsteps thundered behind me, getting closer, closer. My hands shook as I fumbled to dial.
"Pick up. pick up"
"Hello—?"
"Nathiel...Help! He's...He's after me!" I gasped, running so fast my legs burned, heart pounding.
"What? Who?! Where are you? Are you hurt?!"
"I don't know! I'm near the place you said but—I don't exactly know—I'm scared, Nathiel!"
"Don't be scared. Stay close. I'm coming. Don't go anywhere far, you hear me?" His voice was sharp, urgent, protective. I could already hear his bike reviving loudly, his breath frantic on the other end. I ended the call, shoving the phone in my pocket.
Just keep running. Just keep—But I could feel him. Logan was nearly on me, his hand brushing my shoulder. My lungs burned. I was going to fall. I couldn't do this—
I tripped, tumbling forward—but instead of the cold, hard ground—Arms. Strong. Familiar. Safe.
"Nathiel." I breathed, gripping his shirt, clutching his neck like I'd drown if I let go. The relief was instant. I felt like I could finally breathe again. His arm tightened around me protectively, gently tilting my head into his shoulder. "It's okay."
Logan skidded to a stop a few feet away, panting heavily, glaring. "You again."
He recognized Nathiel.
"That night, because of you, first time ever, I lost my victim." His sneer curled like poison. "You think I'm just gonna sit back and let you win again? Pretty boys are my thing. I always get what I want. And him?" His eyes slid to me with disgusting hunger. "He's the prettiest one yet. This time I'm not holding back."
His words sent a violent shudder through me, but Nathiel didn't flinch. In fact, he smiled. But it wasn't the smile I was used to. This one was sharp, wicked, dangerous.
"Are you hearing yourself?" Nathiel's voice lowered to a terrifying calm. "The way you're talking—like it's just business."
Logan laughed. "So what if it is? Plenty of pretty things come through that app. Whether I keep them or sell them off—that's none of your business. This one though?" He licked his lips again, eyeing me. "Nah. I'll keep this one to myself."
I flinched at the disgusting words, muttering, "God—why does he keep calling me pretty I'm a guy—and hearing it from someone like him just—"
I was trembling, but Nathiel's hand patted my arm softly, gently guiding me behind him, placing himself like a human shield between me and that monster.
Then Nathiel took a step forward. And another. Logan's grin started to falter.
"What did you say?" Nathiel's voice dropped to something deadly, something I hadn't heard since that night at the bar.
"Whatever disgusting business you're into—it ends here. And him?" His hand twitched. His entire posture screamed violence. "He's not just some random pretty thing. He's the reason I'm still breathing. The only reason I haven't torn this entire world apart yet."
His smile curled, sharp like the edge of a blade. "Now bleed for even thinking you could take him away from me." Then—The punch landed so hard it echoed, sharp against the silence of the empty street. Logan flew backwards, crashing into the ground like dead weight. But Nathiel wasn't done. He marched forward, grabbed Logan by the collar, and slammed his fist down again. Another hit. Another crunch. The look in his eyes was beyond human—it was fury in pure form.
"Nathiel! Stop!" I gasped, hands over my mouth, frozen in shock. "You'll kill him! Please!" His fist halted mid-air, his chest heaving, knuckles dripping with blood. Logan lay limp, knocked out cold. And then—Police sirens. Finally.
"What a timing." Nathiel stood up slowly, rolling eyes at the police arriving late, shaking his bruised hand, wiping it with a napkin like it was a nuisance, before turning back to me with that soft, familiar expression again.
"You okay?" His eyes scanned me, hands trembling despite his calm voice. "He didn't touch you, did he?"
I blinked quickly, heart racing, still holding onto his shirt. "No. No—I'm okay..."
Officers rushed forward, surrounding Logan, who was barely conscious now.
"We've been tracking his gang for weeks," one of them muttered. "Finally caught him. And it's thanks to you, young man."
But another officer frowned at the state
Logan was in. "You didn't have to go that far, you Almost killed him."
Nathiel locked eyes with him, voice quiet—but lethal. "It's called self-defense. Officer, What was I supposed to do? Let him take the only thing in this world that matters to me?"
The officer stared, swallowed, and finally nodded, backing off.
As they cuffed Logan and dragged him away, I finally realized the whole truth—Logan's gang had been using dating apps to lure people—boys, girls, anyone they thought they could sell or abuse. And I was almost one of them. But not anymore. I was safe. Because Nathiel came for me. And this time. he wasn't letting go.
After the officers left, Nathiel finally took a deep breath before hugging me again, tightly, almost like he was afraid I'd disappear. His face pressed into my neck, his breathing still uneven.
I hugged him back gently, patting his back to calm him.
"...Calm down. I'm fine now..." I whispered, giving him a small smile. He nodded, silent.
For a second, I thought maybe he just needed time to process everything... until I heard it—small, broken sniffles against my skin.
My heart dropped.
I gently broke the hug, cupping his face.
"Nathiel...?"
His face was lowered, but when he finally looked up at me—my breath hitched. His eyes were blood-red, tears spilling over as his lips trembled slightly. Nathiel... was crying.
"Oh my god... what happened? Are you—are you hurt?!" I asked, panicked, already scanning him for bruises or wounds.
But then he clutched his chest tightly with one hand, kneeling down as if he couldn't take the weight anymore.
"It... it hurts here... so bad..." he whispered shakily, his voice cracking.
My heart squeezed painfully at the sight. I dropped to my knees in front of him, grabbing his shoulders.
"Where? Did he hit you—should we go to a hospital?!" I asked, not remembering Logan ever raising hands on him, cause well Nathiel was too scary. Too powerful for him to do anything.
But Nathiel shook his head fast.
"No... not that kind of hurt..." His hand pressed harder against his chest, his whole body trembling now. "It's here... because... because I almost lost you...! Damn it! I couldn't protect you properly..." he broke off, letting out a choked sob.
"H-Hey... what are you saying...?" I touched his cheek, wiping his tears. "You did protect me—you came at the right time, you saved me, you were incredible—" but he shook his head again, jaw clenched.
"No... but what if I hadn't? Just thinking about it... that I could've lost you... it's tearing me apart. It's like someone's ripping my heart out... I've never... felt anything like this before..." His breath shuddered, but then... his trembling hand came up to cup my face gently, eyes locked into mine. "But now... now that I'm holding you... it feels like I got my heart back."
My lips parted to speak, but before I could say anything, he leaned forward suddenly—pressing his lips to mine. His kiss was desperate, trembling, tasting of salt and tears. His emotions poured into me through that kiss.
When he finally broke it, he rested his forehead on mine, whispering softly through his heavy breaths, voice rough and raw—"Lucan... I like you... No—hell, I love you. God, I love you... It hurts how much I love you..."
My eyes widened, heart stuttering.
"Are you... joking...?" I whispered, voice breaking.
"Never. I've never been more serious about anything in my damn life. You're... you're the only reason I'm still breathing. You're my strength and my weakness, and I don't care if I sound pathetic—I need you. I fought tonight not because I'm brave, but because I needed to be the one holding you right now. Please... be mine."
His words—raw, trembling, desperate—hit me like a wave. I blinked rapidly, before tears finally spilled down my cheeks.
"What... what took you so long...?" I sobbed, my fists weakly hitting his chest. "I thought... I thought I'd have to bury this love forever... I thought it was going to stay one-sided..."
Nathiel's eyes widened before softening completely. He smiled through his tears, bringing his lips to my cheeks, kissing away every drop of sadness. "I'm sorry.. I'm so damn sorry I made you wait this long.., I love you, I love you so much it's crazy..."
I threw my arms around him, hugging him tighter than I ever had, feeling the way his heart pounded against mine.
Love, really is the strongest thing. No matter how broken, scared, or late, it always finds its way home.