Hello everyone,How are you
I am Esha Afrin And my book the killer lover.
Chapter:1
The rain had just stopped when Ariana stepped out of the university library. The sky was still gray, and tiny drops of water clung to her hair. She adjusted the strap of her bag and began walking toward the bus stop, unaware that this ordinary evening would change her life forever.
Ariana was simple. She didn't believe in dramatic love stories. She believed in peace, in soft laughter, in small happiness. Her world was made of books, dreams, and quiet evenings.
But that evening… something felt different.
As she waited at the nearly empty bus stop, she noticed someone standing a few feet away.
He was tall. Calm. Dressed in black.
His eyes were fixed on her — not in a rude way, but intensely. As if he was studying her.
When their eyes met, Ariana quickly looked away.
"Sorry," a deep voice said gently. "I didn't mean to stare."
She looked up again.
He smiled.
And that was the first time she saw Adrian.
"I just thought you looked lost in your thoughts," he added.
"I wasn't," Ariana replied softly. "Just tired."
"Long day?"
"Very."
There was something about him — his voice was calm, controlled. His smile was perfect, but his eyes… his eyes held something unreadable.
The bus was late.
Minutes passed.
They kept talking.
Adrian was surprisingly easy to talk to. He asked about her studies. Her favorite books. Her dreams. He listened carefully — too carefully.
"No one listens like you do," Ariana said without thinking.
Adrian's smile deepened.
"I listen when something is important," he replied.
She laughed lightly. "Am I important?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked straight into her eyes and said quietly:
"You will be."
A strange chill ran down her spine.
But she ignored it.
The bus finally arrived. It was crowded. Ariana struggled to get in, but Adrian held her hand gently to help her step up.
His touch was warm.
Safe.
Or at least it felt safe.
Inside the bus, they stood close because of the crowd. Too close. Ariana could feel his breath near her ear.
"You shouldn't travel alone this late," Adrian whispered.
"I do it every day."
"Still," he said softly. "The world isn't safe."
She smiled. "I can take care of myself."
Adrian's expression changed for just a second.
"I know," he said. "But you shouldn't have to."
When her stop arrived, she stepped down. She turned around to thank him—
But he hadn't gotten off the bus.
He was still inside.
Watching her.
And even as the bus moved away, his eyes never left her.
That night, Ariana couldn't sleep properly.
She didn't know why.
Maybe it was the way he looked at her.
Not like a stranger.
Not like a friend.
But like someone who had already decided something.
The next day at university, Ariana was walking through the campus garden when she froze.
He was there.
Leaning casually against a tree.
As if he had always belonged there.
"You?" she said, surprised.
Adrian smiled. "You forgot to tell me your favorite coffee."
"How did you know I'd be here?"
"You mentioned your class schedule yesterday."
Ariana paused.
She did.
But she didn't expect him to remember.
"You remember everything?" she asked jokingly.
Adrian stepped closer.
"Only the things that matter."
Again, that feeling.
Warm.
Intense.
Heavy.
Something inside her whispered that this was too fast. Too sudden.
But her heart… her heart felt excited.
That afternoon, they had coffee together.
They laughed.
They shared stories.
Adrian seemed perfect — thoughtful, intelligent, protective.
When another male student approached Ariana to greet her, Adrian's jaw tightened slightly.
It was small.
Almost invisible.
But it was there.
Later, as they walked together, Adrian said casually:
"He seems very interested in you."
"He's just a friend."
"I don't like the way he looks at you."
Ariana laughed. "You're jealous already?"
Adrian stopped walking.
He looked at her seriously.
"I don't share what's mine."
The words were spoken softly.
But they didn't sound like a joke.
Ariana's smile faded for a second.
"What do you mean?" she asked lightly.
Adrian quickly smiled again.
"I'm kidding."
But his eyes said something else.
Something darker.
That night, Ariana received a message from an unknown number.
Unknown:
Did you reach home safely?
Her heart skipped.
Ariana:
Who is this?
The reply came instantly.
Someone who cares about you.
A second message followed.
Sleep well, Ariana.
She didn't remember giving Adrian her number.
Yet somehow… he had it.
And somewhere, in the quiet darkness of his room, Adrian stared at his phone screen, smiling softly.
On his wall were photographs.
Photographs of Ariana.
At the bus stop.
At the library.
In the campus garden.
He gently touched one picture and whispered:
"You don't know it yet…
but you belong to me."
And outside, the wind began to blow harder.
Because sometimes…
The most dangerous love stories don't begin with hatred.
They begin with a smile.