Seraphina
Seraphina's heels clicked sharply on the marble floor of St. Ravenwood Academy, each step precise, measured, like a metronome keeping perfect time. Eyes followed her everywhere, whispers flowing behind her like a river of curiosity. Ice Queen. That was what they called her. Top of her class, untouchable, perfectly composed. She didn't care. Being noticed had never been the goal, it was being invisible in the right ways while keeping control.
Her bag swung lightly against her shoulder as she navigated the crowded hall, dodging a group of chattering students. Some tried to catch her eye. Most didn't dare. She liked it that way. She liked the clarity of being above the noise, untangled from the drama.
That's when she saw him. Damian.
He leaned casually against the lockers, one hand in his pocket, that infamous smirk playing at his lips like he owned the entire hall. She'd heard of him, of course, rich, smart, charming, impossibly self-assured. A boy everyone admired, but one she'd carefully avoided noticing.
And now he was here. Watching.
"Seraphina," he called, voice smooth, teasing, like a challenge wrapped in silk. "Still walking like you own the place?"
She paused, eyebrow arched, lips pressing into a thin line. "And you are?" she replied coolly, keeping her voice steady, perfectly indifferent.
"Damian," he said, giving a slight bow that only halfheartedly respected her space. "I've heard of you… thought I should see for myself if the stories were true."
She scoffed softly, brushing past him, heels clicking sharply against the floor. Her mask of control never faltered. He was just another distraction. A flirty, obnoxious distraction. Nothing more.
By the time she reached her first class, Seraphina had already sorted her notebooks, sharpened her pencils, and memorized her schedule for the day. Routine was her armor; it kept everything predictable, everything safe. Damian was a wrinkle in that routine, small, irritating, maybe even dangerous, but he wasn't worth thinking about.
Except, she realized as she sat at her desk, he had noticed her. Not the mask she wore, but the real her. And that… was unsettling. She didn't like being unsettled.
The morning passed in a blur of lectures and calculations. Seraphina excelled, as always, answering every question, acing every exercise. Her classmates watched, some in awe, some in quiet jealousy. Damian was nowhere to be seen. She felt a flicker of relief, maybe he'd already forgotten her.
But then, at lunch, she spotted him again. Across the crowded cafeteria, his eyes found hers instantly, and that damn smirk was back. She turned to her usual table, pretending not to notice, but a subtle awareness settled in her chest: he was watching.
A part of her hated it. Another part… was strangely intrigued.
By the time the bell rang for the afternoon classes, Seraphina reminded herself, firmly, that Damian was irrelevant. Just a rich, flirty shadow. A passing distraction. She had her grades, her control, her perfectly structured life. That was all that mattered.
Yet, as she packed her bag, a tiny spark of irritation, and curiosity, lingered. She didn't trust it. She didn't want to. But somehow, she already knew: Damian wasn't going to disappear so easily.