Aurelia avoided Julian's eyes.
Not because they were just attractive—but because looking felt like he would look right through her if he caught her looking... But she did admit to her heart; Julian's eyes were deadly attractive just as everything about him was.
Julian twisted the door knob,"Do you need your coat Aurelia?",he grabbed her coat and looked at her.
She nodded once, quick and contained, then reached for her coat. Their fingers brushed, his hands were very warm,"uhh...Thanks Ju..Julian", she carefully took her coat and their eyes met for a second before Aurelia lowered her gaze immediately and bowed.
A beautiful habit.
The fabric slid smoothly over her model like shoulders as she slipped it on, muscle memory precise, practiced. She noticed the door Julian had opened and softly walked past him and out into the corridor without a word.
Julian followed.
The hallway was long, paneled in pale stone and stained glass, morning light spilling in from tall windows. Their footsteps were soft. Measured.
Aurelia barely reached his shoulder.
He noticed.
Not in the way men usually did—not lingering, not obvious. Just a quiet adjustment of his stride so she didn't have to rush to keep up.
Neither of them spoke. But Julian looked down at her from the corner of his eye.
"Hmm. She's so tiny-- Damn!! Julian get a grip on yourself... But she's cute...Kind of...Hmm..."
Students passed by in clusters—laughing, arguing, already belonging. Whispers trailed, subtle glances flicking toward her then away. Julian registered them all. He always did.
At the stairwell, he paused just long enough to hold the door open.
"Careful," he said quietly—not instructive, just considerate.
"It's just a staircase" she replied softly.
Julian Pursed his lips to control a smile and nodded.
The stairwell spiraled downward, footsteps echoing softly. For a moment, all she could hear was the rhythm of movement and the faint rustle of her sleeve brushing his arm when the turn narrowed.
Julian glanced down at her again.
Not at her face.
At the necklace—now tucked safely beneath fabric.
He looked away just as quickly.
"You don't have to talk," he said after a beat. "I think I'm boring you, It's just that I'm-".
"No", she interrupted him politely,"You're reserved. I know Julian, so am I, and... It's honestly nice that you don't talk," after a beat,"You're... sweet".
Julian, who was going to argue, just stopped and stared at her in disbelief,"I am??", he smiled lowkey and looked down to hide it,"Thanks Aurelia. By the way let's get going or we'll be late".
The doors at the bottom opened onto the courtyard—sunlight, voices, life waiting to swallow her whole.
Orientation banners fluttered gently overhead. All black, grey and ashy shades.
Julian stopped beside her.
Waiting.
"Ladies first". He said politely and gestured forward.
Aurelia shyly and quietly bowed to Julian in thanks and stepped forward beside him into the grand hall.
The doors opened fully.
Conversation dipped.
Not stopped—dipped.
Heads turned. Slowly. Almost unwillingly.
She felt it before she saw it—the subtle pull of attention, the way eyes lingered a fraction too long, the way whispers bent toward their path. The hall was wide and elegant, rows of seats curving upward beneath arched ceilings, light spilling down like it had been staged for her.
She walked calmly. Gracefully. As if she'd been here a lot of times.
Julian matched her pace effortlessly.
She briefly looked up at him.
He was looking straight ahead.
Not ignoring her—containing himself.
The effect was worse.
A group of boys near the front row fell silent as she passed. One leaned forward instinctively, elbow nudging his friend. Another straightened his jacket as if she might glance his way.
Aurelia didn't.
She was afraid of crowds. Or worse, what it had in them.
People.
A girl whispered something sharp and fast, eyes narrowing—not at her, but at Julian.
Because of course she noticed.
Julian felt it all. The stares. The shift. The curiosity.
He didn't acknowledge a single one.
Only when they reached the aisle did he speak—quiet, low, meant just for her to hear.
"Front rows are quieter," he said. "Less… speculation."
A pause.
"But the middle gives you options."
"What options?," she looked around and back up at him.
"You know... If you wanna give a shot at making friends," he looked down at her, and then his mouth barely curved, "Although you don't seem the type, so tell me? Where do we sit?"
He stopped walking.
Let her choose.
Behind her, someone murmured, "Who is she? Whitaker's girl?"
Someone else answered, "No idot!! She's an Ashbourne."
The name traveled.
"Julian...,' she looked at the girl and back at him with wide eyes and her pretty lips parted,"How?? How do they know me?".
Julian glanced down—not at her face, but just beside it. Close enough to feel deliberate.
"You'll be watched," he said evenly. "Not for what you do."
A beat.
"For how you exist."
And still—
He did not look at her.
She hesitated, the noise and attention pressing in too close, too fast. Her voice dropped instinctively, choosing him as shelter without fully realizing she had.
"Julian. I am... Uncomfortable here," she said while looking here and there, Julian looked at her intently, "I don't like being in large crowds. We should take the front rows as you said they're quieter".
As she spoke, she shifted—just a step—until she was nearly behind him, her shoulder brushing the line of his back. Not clinging. Not dramatic, just safe.
But unmistakable.
Julian stiffened for half a second.
Then—
He adjusted.
Subtly.
He stepped forward, placing himself between her and the crowd without a word, his body angling just enough to block the worst of the stares. It was instinctive. Protective. Practiced.
"As you wish," he said sweetly.
His hand lifted—not to touch her—but to gesture forward, creating a clear path. People moved without realizing why. Space opened. Noise softened.
She walked beside him now, shielded.
"Thanks and... I'm sorry for being a coward," she sheepishly said while putting her hands in the pockets of her coat.
"Don't say that Aurelia!" he said seriously,"Not liking crowds or... people doesn't define you as a coward. You're braver than you think. Okay? It's totally fine. I also avoid larger gatherings. It's glad to know someone else does too," he looked down at her and smiled.
Aurelia smiled back and noticed how his eyes creased at the corners. Beautifully.
Whispers followed anyway.
"Is she with him?"
"Who is he?"
Julian didn't acknowledge any of it.
At the front rows, he stopped and pulled out a chair for her—not exaggerated, not showy. Just correct. Polite in a way that felt old, deliberate, intimate.
Once she was seated, he took the chair beside her.
Closer than necessary.
Still not looking at her.
But when someone behind leaned forward to get a better view—
Julian crossed one leg calmly.
Blocking the line of sight.
"Front rows," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Are the best".
"No doubt!" Aurelia said as she adjusted herself.
Julian suddenly exclaimed,"No doubt! oh... It's a song too you know?"
Aurelia looked at him and her eyes glimmered,"No Doubt by Enhypen??"
She couldn't contain her excitement at the mention of her favourite boy band.
"Yes! Exactly," Julian nodded a bit happily at her excitement,"Oh!! The orientation lecture's about to start. We'll discuss Enhypen later," he added with an acknowledged smile. Guess they both know and like Enhypen.
The lecture hall settled.
Lights dimmed slightly.
And only then—only when the attention shifted forward—did Julian finally glance at her after a while.
Controlled.
Softened.
Aurelia exhaled, shoulders finally lowering just a fraction.
"It's starting now!" she said while looking straight ahead attentively like a kindergartener on their first say at school.
For the first time since they'd entered the hall—
He looked at her properly.
Not assessing.Not guarded.
Just… present.
His light brown eyes met her green ones as she breifly looked, steady and unreadable, but something in them shifted—like a door not fully opening, only unlocked. The noise of the hall faded into a low hum, awareness narrowing to the space between their seats.
Too close.
Too quiet.
She broke it first, gaze flicking away as heat crept up her neck.
"It looks fun!" she said bouncing her knee up and down.
Julian inclined his head slightly, the ghost of a smile touching his mouth—not amused, not flirtatious.
Acknowledging.
"Yes," he said softly. "It is."
The lights dimmed further.
The lecturer stepped onto the stage.
Pens were lifted. Screens glowed.
But Julian didn't move his arm away from where it rested near hers.
Didn't lean back.
Didn't pull away.
And once—just once—during the opening remarks, she felt the faint brush of his sleeve against hers.
Unavoidable.
Intentional.
Then he looked forward again.
Composed.
Untouched.
As if the moment hadn't mattered.
As if it hadn't.
The lecture hall settled into a hush as the professor stepped forward.
Professor Hale.
Mid-forties, sharp suit, sharper presence. The kind of man who commanded attention without asking for it. His eyes skimmed the room the way someone used to being listened to would—brief, efficient—
Then they paused.
On Aurelia.
Just a fraction too long.
Not inappropriate.Not obvious.
But intentional.
Julian noticed instantly.
So did several of the men scattered across the rows who had already been stealing glances her way. A few straightened. One leaned forward like he might finally be noticed.
Professor Hale cleared his throat.
"Welcome," he began, voice smooth, practiced. "This course separates memorization from comprehension."
His gaze drifted again.
Back to her.
"And comprehension," he continued, "requires courage."
A ripple of attention followed his line of sight. Aurelia felt it like a current—eyes shifting, curiosity sharpening.
Julian didn't move.
But his jaw tightened.
The professor gestured toward the projected slide. "A simple question, then."
He didn't look at the raised hands.
Didn't acknowledge the eager ones.
His eyes found her. Again. Now Aurelia's blood was actually starting to boil.
"Miss Ashbourne."
The hall stilled.
Julian glanced at her—brief, encouraging, calm.
Professor Hale tilted his head slightly, studying her with open interest.
"Your thoughts?"
Behind her, a few men exchanged looks—annoyed, curious, impressed.
"Me?" she said as she rose from her seat,"Well honestly sir, I don't have any special thoughts... yet. But maybe as the lecture proceeds and you share your amazing insight. I'm sure I'll have a lot of thoughts," Aurelia replied nonchalantly, but there was irritation laced in her voice.
Something subtle changed in his expression—not desire, not softness—
Respect.
When she finished, he nodded once. Slowly.
"Well said," he replied. "That's… rare clarity."
A pause.
Then—his gaze shifted sharply.
To the left.
To the right.
He caught two men still staring at her, not at the screen.
His expression hardened.
A glare—brief but unmistakable.
They looked away instantly.
Professor Hale returned his attention to the lecture like nothing had happened.
Julian leaned back slightly, eyes forward—but his voice dropped just enough for her.
"Looks like you've made an impression," he murmured.
The lecture moved on—but the room hadn't forgotten.
And neither had the people watching her now with new calculations.
She leaned slightly toward him, voice dropping despite herself, eyes still fixed forward.
"Sure. A bit too much. You know every guys staring like... like I am- Never mind," Aurelia rolled her eyes and sank in her seat.
Julian didn't look at her when he answered.
He kept his gaze on the lecturer, posture relaxed, voice low—smooth enough that only she could hear.
"Like you don't belong to the room," he finished quietly.
A pause.
"Like the room belongs to you."
His sleeve brushed hers again—barely there, accidental enough to be deniable. He still didn't turn his head, but the corner of his mouth lifted just slightly, restrained, knowing.
"Maybe. Maybe I do own the room Julian. I know I have a presence!" Aurelia scoffed and smiled to herself.
"They'll stare," he continued, and chuckled lowkey, unhurried. "People do when something unsettles their balance."
"Guess I am too distracting. Now aren't I Julian? But people should learn to have some sanity," Aurelia shook her head in disbelief and slight arrogance of course.
The professor cleared his throat at the front.
Julian leaned back an inch, reclaiming composure.
"Maybe," he added softly, "they'll learn."
The lecture resumed in earnest.
Pens scratched paper.
Screens glowed.
And yet—the attention never quite left her.
Not from the hall.
Not from him.
She looked up at Julian after a few minutes of awkward silence passed, her gaze lingering a second longer than intended.
Then another.
The noise of the hall faded—not fully, just enough to blur.
Julian noticed.
He always did.
Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hands and placed them on either side of her head—not gripping, not possessive. Just firm enough to guide. Grounding. Familiar in a way that suggested this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this… just the first time with her.
He turned her face gently forward.
His voice followed—low, close, meant only for her.
"So focused," he murmured near her ear, breath warm but restrained, "yet so easily distracted."
The words sent a quiet spark through you—uninvited, undeniable.
Her stomach did a double flip.
His hands withdrew immediately, as if nothing had happened. As if it hadn't been instinct. As if it hadn't meant something.
Julian straightened, eyes back on the lecturer, posture composed once more.
Unbothered.
Like he hadn't just unraveled her concentration with a sentence.
"Y...Yeah sorry," she stumbled upon her words, she sure did something weirdly not-so-herself coded.
The professor continued speaking.
Pens scratched paper.
But the air between her seat and his still felt charged—like a held breath that hadn't been released.
And for the rest of the lecture—
She was painfully aware of how close he sat. Of how easily he'd moved her .Of how natural it had felt.
She tried—really tried—to focus on the lecture.
The slide changed. The professor spoke. Notes were taken.
And yet—
Every time Aurelia looked up, Professor Hale's gaze found her again. Not decent, but rather lingering..
Her concentration slipped.
She leaned toward Julian without fully realizing it, voice barely more than breath.
"Julian I have a bad feeling that professor Hale—"
Julian didn't turn his head.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't let her finish.
"He's staring at you," he murmured quietly, as if reading the thought straight from her mind. "Not just looking, I know," he actually gritted his teeth and exhaled.
A pause.
"And not crossing any lines," he added calmly. "Yet."
Her breath caught.
Julian finally glanced at her then—not long, just enough to ground her.
"He does that," he continued softly. "With people who don't need validation but unsettle him anyway."
At the front, Professor Hale cleared his throat again, shifting his stance.
Julian leaned back in his seat, one arm resting casually along the back of the chair, posture relaxed but unmistakably aware.
"He won't call on you again today, I do hope so," Julian said. "He's already made his point."
As if on cue, the professor turned away, directing his attention to another section of the hall.
The pressure eased.
Julian didn't look smug.
Just certain.
"Yeah. I hope so too Julian," she murmured quietly.
The words steadied something in her.
The lecture went on.
But now—
She knew she wasn't imagining things.
And she now knew Julian noticed everything.
She couldn't control her curiosity, despite knowing that curiosity kills the cat.
"HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT I AM GOING TO SAY?"
Her whisper carried more force than sound.
Julian finally turned to her.
Really turned.
Up close, his composure didn't crack—but something sharpened. His eyes met hers steadily, unflinching, taking in the flush of her cheeks, the spark of irritation, the way she looked even cuter in her sweet anger.
He leaned in—not invading, not retreating—just close enough that the rest of the hall disappeared.
"Because," he said quietly, voice low and even,"Aurelia you announce your thoughts before speaking and I'm serious Aurelia, don't stare like that," he looked away shyly," Your eyes actually... i don't know... your eyebrows and eyes move.."
A pause.
"What the hell are you saying Julian?" Aurelia makes a perplexed face and her eyes. YES those eyes speak just as Julian said,"My eyes and eyebrows move??"
"Maybe because," he added, softer now, "you don't hide when you're uncomfortable. You show."
The words landed heavier than your anger.
Julian's gaze flicked briefly to your lips—just once—then back to your eyes. Controlled. Disciplined.
"You did it just now," he continued. "You do it when you're overwhelmed. Curious. Cornered."
The professor spoke at the front, oblivious.
Julian leaned back slightly, reclaiming distance but not detachment.
"It's not magic," he finished calmly. "It's attention."
Then—almost as an afterthought—
"And I pay it",
She folded her arms and turned her face away from him, irritation simmering just beneath composure.
"Tsk Tsk Tsk...i am so done with this orientation shitt."
Julian didn't respond right away.
He let the silence take it.
From where he sat, he could see the line of her profile—the way her chin lifted when she was annoyed, the way she held herself like she'd learned early not to ask for space but to claim it. She was beautiful, yes—but that wasn't the dangerous part.
It was the intelligence behind her reactions.The refusal to shrink.The way she felt everything deeply and still chose restraint.
He liked that more than he should.
He kept his expression neutral, eyes forward, even as something quiet and unwanted settled in his chest. Interest—not sudden, not reckless—but deliberate. The kind that crept in when he wasn't focused.
She wasn't just a distraction.
She was a complication.
Julian adjusted his posture, giving her distance without withdrawing entirely.
"You can leave after the break, if you think this lecture is boring. Because that's what I think," he said calmly, not looking at her. "No one will stop you."
A pause.
"But," he added, voice lower, gentler, "don't confuse discomfort with insignificance."
The lecturer's voice droned on.
Julian glanced at her once more—brief, careful.
She was still turned away.
Still upset.
Still… compelling.
And for the first time in a long while, Julian Whitaker found himself thinking something inconvenient and unplanned:
This is going to be a problem.
She turned back toward him, irritation melted into something quieter, more vulnerable. Her voice dropped, careful, sincere.
"Hey? Julian? Did I overreact a little? I am sorry for that..."
You tried to catch his eyes.
He didn't let you—at first.
Julian kept his gaze forward, jaw tightening slightly as if he were reminiscing something internal. Not annoyed. Not cold.
Measured.
Then, slowly, he exhaled.
"You didn't overreact," he said calmly. "You reacted."
He finally turned to her.
Just enough.
His eyes softened—not indulgent, not teasing—honest. And for a brief moment, the composed exterior slipped, revealing something warmer beneath it.
"You're allowed that," he continued quietly. "Especially here."
"Yeah I know. It's okay with you, but you know I had to clear it from my side," she said apologetically and smiled.
The corner of his mouth lifted, faint but unmistakable.
"And for the record," he added, voice low, "you don't need to apologize for being perceptive."
The professor adjusted the slides.
"I hope Orientation ends soon," he said. "If you want to discover the campus, I'll take you,," he looked at her thoughtfully because he knew the lecture was damn boring.
Choice.
His gaze flicked to her once more—steady now.
"You're getting bored to be honest, your face says it alll," Julian couldn't help but chuckle and he cleared his throat afterward.
Aurelia looked up at him and smiled.
Her green, gorgeous eyes fluttered as she smiled—soft, unguarded—and two deep dimples appeared, the kind that didn't ask for attention but took it anyway. She nodded, small and earnest, like she were sealing something fragile.
"Okay, Okay!! I get it, your actually bored and so am I," she scrunched her nose in annoyance,"We'll leave. But promise me u wont leave me halfway through this 4 hour lecture??"
Julian froze.
Just for a heartbeat.
Because the way she said it—quiet, hopeful, half-joking—
It didn't sound like a request about a lecture at all.
He didn't smile immediately.
Instead, he studied her, as if weighing how much truth to allow into the moment. Then he nodded once—slow, deliberate.
"I won't," he said simply.
Just certainty.
He shifted slightly in his seat, angling toward her—not close enough to overwhelm, close enough to stay.
"And if it gets unbearable," he added, voice low, almost fond,
"Yup! I am certain you will suffer with me," Aurelia giggled and shook her head.
The lecture droned on.
Slides changed.
Time stretched.
But Julian stayed exactly where he was.
Didn't check the clock. Didn't shift away. Didn't leave.
The lecture had slipped into that slow, rhythmic phase—slides dense, professor pacing, attention thinning.
Julian leaned back slightly in his seat.
Then—without turning his head—he spoke.
Low. Close. For her alone.
"Do you always pretend you're unbothered," he murmured, "or is today special?"
Before she could fully react, he continued, voice quieter still.
"You do this thing," he added, "where you smile when you're overwhelmed. It's… convincing. Almost."
Around you, people were pretending not to listen.
Failing.
Two rows behind, a boy nudged his friend and whispered something. A girl across the aisle glanced back twice—first at Aurelia, then at Julian—then leaned toward her phone.
Julian noticed. Of course he did.
He didn't stop.
"You notice way too much Julian," she shrugged and looked up at him,"I don't even know if i do whatever you say i do, but i do know if your saying it then it must be true,"
Julian chuckled at her way too honest remarks.
"Fine, tell me something harmless," he said softly. "Your favorite place to think."
The professor cleared his throat loudly.
Julian didn't even look up.
"And don't lie," he added, barely moving his lips, "You hesitate before you do Lady".
"What??! Oh heavens. Okay," she let out an exasperated sigh because knew way too much.
A ripple passed through the hall.
"Julian, I honestly hate how everyone's looking at us like... we're you know?" Aurelia looked around before answering to his question.
Julian finally turned his head a fraction—just enough that his shoulder brushed hers again.
"Relax," he said gently. "They're watching because they're curious."
"I'm asking because I am."
The slide changed.
The professor glanced in their direction, eyes narrowing briefly—not annoyed, just… aware.
Julian leaned back again, composed, unreadable to everyone else.
She tilted herr head slightly toward him, voice light but deliberate, choosing deflection over surrender.
"Well! You tell me... about yourself???" Aurelia mischievously grinned and put her palms beneath her chin.
Julian's breath hitched.
He clearly wasn't expecting her to fire back.
He was already regretting asking her something.
She wasn't letting go of him any sooner and he knew.
She's going to end me with that look... Focus Julian Whitaker He thought as he plastered a fake smile and sighed.
For a moment, he said nothing—eyes still forward, expression neutral to anyone watching. Then he leaned in, close enough that his voice brushed her ear without touching it.
"I don't usually tell," he murmured.
"But since you asked…"
He glanced sideways at her—not fully, just enough to see the curve of her smile, the curiosity waiting behind it.
"I like quiet places," he continued softly. "Libraries that smell like old paper. Rooftops after midnight. Conversations people aren't meant to overhear."
"Hmm... Interesting. You're an introvert I can already tell," she looked at him thoughtfully and nodded,"Go on".
Someone two rows ahead turned around.
A girl near the aisle whispered something sharp, eyes flicking between her and him.
Julian didn't lower his voice.
"Yeah, just like you, I dislike crowds," he added, "but I tolerate them when there's a reason," he paused and looked at Aurelia,"A reason like taking a new roomie to a crowded orientation!" He smiled.
"Yeah I get it," Aurelia nodded at his last statement.
"And I don't enjoy being watched," he said calmly, "unless I decide it's worth it."
The professor cleared his throat pointedly.
Julian leaned back, composure restored, eyes back on the lecture like nothing intimate had just been shared.
"The professor is gonna sue us for this conversation," she added,"But just so you know, You're interesting".
But his knee brushed hers under the desk.
Aurelia felt it and they both looked at eachother, sharing the brief contact without any words, but a simple touch.
"Yeah maybe I am, to those who find me interesting," Julian shrugged as if he didn't really agree with her thought.
Your turn," he said quietly, without looking.
Around them, the hall buzzed—subtle, electric.
Julian Whittaker didn't seem inclined to stop them.
"Well. I like staying alone. But i like to know people, at the same time I'm you know afraid of knowing too much and as i told you earlier, I don't like crowds," she took a deep breath and clicked the ratchet of her pen, "But as you said, sometimes we do have to bare crowds and people even when we don't really want to," Aurelia started drawing spiral shapes on her palm with the pen.
Julian listened without interrupting—really listened.
Her words seemed to settle into him rather than pass through.
When she started drawing slow spirals into her own palm, his gaze dipped there for half a second before returning forward. His jaw tightened, just slightly, like he was holding something back.
"Mm," he murmured, low and thoughtful. "That makes sense."
He leaned closer again—not rushed, not careless. This time his tone softened, losing that teasing edge, turning almost… careful.
"Wanting people at a distance," he said. "Close enough to understand them. Far enough not to be hurt by them."
"That's not fear," he added quietly. "That's self-preservation."
The pen paused in her hand.
Julian's attention felt carved out just for her, like the rest of the room had been muted.
"I noticed," he continued, barely above a whisper, "you only get tense when people crowd you."
She was speechless, lost for words at how much he could see in her.
Then after almost a long thought he added, "Aurelia look at me?"
She looked up, "What is it Julian?"
His knee brushed hers again, more deliberate this time—but he didn't move it away.
"Am i crowding you?"
"No Julian, You could never!" Aurelia almost wasn't ready for that question.
"Then why are you so...?" His gaze flicked to the drawings on her palm.
Aurelia followed his gaze and bit her lower lip.
"So... what?" she wanted him to finish the sentence.
"So tensed Aurelia?" He twisted the ring on his middle finger,"Am i bothering you too much, you know I actually don't talk much with people".
"Julian," her brows creased and her lips parted,"You're not crowding or bothering me? If you were... I wouldn't have ever talked to you," she shook her head in disbelief,"And I'm not tensed at all Julian, At least not because of you".
Julian let out a relieved sigh.
Aurelia raked her hair back and looked at him,"I'm honestly very relaxed with you Julian".
"So, you relax when you choose who's near," Julian looked at hair fall back. Not a question, rather a statement.
He finally turned his head and looked at her fully now.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"Means you chose to sit here... With me," he replied.
Not a question. An observation.
For a split second, something unguarded crossed his face—interest, yes, but also restraint. As if he were reminding himself not to go further.
"Julian I--," Aurelia fumbled.
Then the professor snapped, "Miss Ashbourne."
Julian's eyes flicked to the front instantly, posture straightening, expression unreadable again.
But his hand moved—brief, subtle—covering the pen in her palm to still it.
"Looks like he caught us," he whispered, so softly it felt like he was saying something beautiful and not that statement.
He adjusted his glasses slowly, eyes settling on her with an intensity that felt… personal. Not inappropriate—no—but far too focused for a first-day orientation.
"Hmm," he said, voice smooth, authoritative. "Miss Ashbourne, what's being discussed between you and Mister Whitaker that's so important that you aren't paying attention to me?"
A few heads turned. More than a few, actually.
He glanced at the slide behind him, then back at Aurelia who was now standing in her seat.
"Since you're attentive now," he continued, "perhaps you'd care to answer."
A faint, almost imperceptible curve touched his lips.
"Yes professor," Aurelia replied and glanced back at Julian who was very calm.
"In pre-med ethics—what do we prioritize when logic and emotion come into conflict?"
Julian's hand slipped away from hers the moment the question was asked, but his presence didn't retreat. If anything, he leaned back just enough to give her space—like he trusted her to own it.
Still, from the corner of his eye, he watched.
Closely.
Around her, whispers stirred—Who is she? Someone behind her shifted, clearly annoyed. Someone else leaned forward, interested.
Aurelia got into a deep thought.
Professor Hale tilted his head slightly at the sight of her."No rush," he added. "Take your time."
Julian murmured under his breath, not looking at her this time:
"Say what you believe. Not what they want."
She nodded.
A pause.
And for just a second, she could swear Professor Hale's gaze flicked to Julian—sharp, measuring—before returning to her again.
The room waited.
All eyes on Aurelia Disa Ashbourne.
Aurelia inhaled and looked straight into Professor Hale's eyes.
"Well, honestly. To me, In pre-medical and clinical ethics, the goal is not to prioritize logic over emotion or vice versa, but rather to integrate both reason and emotion in the decision-making process to ensure balanced and ethically sound outcomes. The aim is to achieve a professional balance, also called as a detached concern, mister professor".
Aurelia didn't let her gaze falter for even a second while answering.
For a moment, Professor Hale simply looked at her.
Not the polite glance he'd given others. Not the assessing look of a lecturer ticking boxes.
This was sharper. Interested.
He clasped his hands behind his back and took a slow step closer down the aisle, stopping just short of her row.
"Logic," he repeated, thoughtfully."A dangerous thing to rely on alone."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
"But," he added, eyes never leaving you, "your reasoning is… disciplined."
His gaze flicked briefly to her hands in a graceful manner—then back to her face.
"Emotion clouds judgment," he continued, clearly building off your answer, "yet logic without empathy produces physicians who cure bodies and neglect people."
Aurelia almost rolled her eyes.
Then, softer—almost pointed—
"Still, Miss Ashbourne, your awareness of perspective tells me you're not as detached as you claim."
A pause.
"Well answered."
Julian smiled to himself, proud of Aurelia for some reason.
A few students exchanged looks. Someone scoffed quietly. Someone else looked impressed despite themselves.
Julian's elbow shifted as hers brushed his hair again as she sat. This time, he didn't move away.
Instead, he leaned in just enough that only he could hear.
"You stood," he murmured. "Did you notice?"
There was something faintly amused in his tone. Something approving.
"Yeah. So?" she looked confused at the question as she adjusted her coat.
"You do that when you're confident," Julian narrowed his eyes in amusement, a ghost of a smile on his lips," And you my dear, were very confident and... right in your answer. Simply amazing!"
"Hmm. I know, I always know," she shrugged and smiled at his keen observation.
Professor Hale turned back toward the podium, but not before his gaze flicked—once—toward Julian again. This time, it lingered a fraction too long.
"As we proceed," Hale said to the room, "I expect that level of thoughtfulness from everyone."
A beat.
"And Miss Ashbourne—do remain engaged."
She nodded and rolled her eyes as he looked away.
Julian controlled a laugh at that.
He turned turned his head toward her, eyes lowered slightly, voice barely a breath:
"Careful," he said."You just made enemies… and admirers."
His knee brushed hers "again"—this time unmistakably intentional and this time Aurelia looked at him.
"Yeah. Guess I made too many frenemies on my first day," Aurelia scoffed proudly.
Only then, realisation hit her like a truck and her hands flew to her mouth, "Julian... Your hair, I'm so so so sorry. I--"
Julian's reaction was… immediate.
At the soft panic in her voice—and the way her elbow had very clearly disrupted his carefully untidy waves—his lips twitched before he could stop it.
He lifted a hand to his hair, fingers combing through it once, slow and deliberate. The mess only made it worse. Or better. Definitely better.
"My hair?" he murmured, glancing sideways at her now, finally. His eyes held a quiet amusement. "Relax. It survives worse than elbows."
"Oh thank goodness! I thought I messed it, thought you'd turn into an enemy," she exhaled and raked her hair again.
Then his tone shifted—lower, closer, teasing but not unkind.
"And yes," he continued, "you really made enemies, but not me."
He leaned in just enough that his shoulder brushed hers, voice dropping so only she could hear.
"As for admirers—"his gaze flicked briefly to the rows behind her, then to the front where Professor Hale was definitely pretending not to look—
"—people tend to admire confidence that doesn't ask for permission."
His eyes returned to her then, softer this time.
"And you," he added quietly, "don't even realize when you have it."
She couldn't help controlling the butterflies he gave her, yet she remained calm on the outside.
"Oh! Am I trouble then?" she asked softly.
He noticed her fluster—how her fingers fidgeted, how her posture tucked in just a little after standing so boldly.
Julian leaned back a fraction, giving her air again.
"Breathe," he said gently. "You're doing fine."
The lecture went on as usual, but she could feel it now—that subtle shift in attention. A few glances stolen her way. A whisper cut short when she looked up.
Julian followed her gaze once more, then murmured—half warning, half promise:
"Stick with me today, Aurelia."
A beat.
"I'll handle the staring."
"I know you will Julian, You have been doing it all this time," she looked down and bit her lip to hide her blush.
Julian noticed her blush and he couldn't help but bite back a smile and he looked down at his hands, his hair shielding the view of his.
They both were terribly flustered.
Two people who never actually talked like this before.
After a short while someone a few rows ahead turned around far too slowly—eyes lingering on Aurelia with unmistakable interest.
Julian noticed.
His jaw tightened and he gave the poor guy a death stare.
Aurelia noticed and she tried drawing Julian's attention back.
"By the way Julian, are you sure you can handle all that staring and... me?" she looked at guy Julian scared and back at Julian.
Julian stilled.
Just for half a second.
Then—slowly—he turned his head toward her.
Up close, his expression wasn't teasing anymore. It was controlled. Focused. Like he was choosing his next move very carefully.
"…Handle you?" he repeated softly.
She nodded adorably and clapsed her hands infront of her face and close to his hair, she was desperate to fix his hair now.
His gaze flicked to her hand, still hovering near his hair, then back to her eyes. There was something unreadable there now—interest layered with restraint.
He leaned in, but not enough to scandalize. Just enough that his voice dropped into something meant only for her.
"I said I'd handle the staring," he corrected calmly."You," he added after a beat, "I wouldn't dare handle."
"Oh? So now you can handle a simple girl?" Aurelia's lips curved into half a smile.
A corner of his mouth curved too—not a smirk, not quite a smile. Something subtler.
"Your not just any girl, you're... YOU, and I definitely can't handle you, and for the record," he continued, lifting a hand and lightly fixing one strand of his hair she'd disturbed—slow, deliberate—"I don't mind when it's you."
The words landed softly. Dangerous because of how quiet they were.
"Challenge accepted, I'll keep ruining those pretty hair now," she chuckled and shook her head.
He closed his eyes and smiled.
Then, as if sensing the moment tipping too far, he leaned back again, eyes forward, posture composed.
"But," he murmured, almost amused now,"if you keep looking at me like that, Aurelia, people will get the wrong idea."
A pause.
"And I won't stop them."
From the front, Professor Hale cleared his throat pointedly and continued the lecture a little louder than necessary.
"Yeah yeah. Whatever mister Julian Whitaker!" she rolled her eyes,"And what exactly do you mean by you won't stop them? huh?"
Julian let out a soft breath—almost a laugh, but quieter, restrained.
He turned to her again,"Yeah yeah," he mimicked her.
Then—that line.
"Mister?" he repeated, eyebrow lifting just a little. "Careful. Say it like that again and I'll start thinking you're doing it on purpose."
But when she asked what he meant—really asked—his expression shifted. The playful edge dulled into something honest.
"I meant…" he lowered his voice even further, eyes flicking briefly to the professor, then back to her,"I won't correct people for noticing what's already there."
Her breath hitched and she suddenly avoided his eyes.
A beat.
"And because," he continued quietly, "you're noticeable. Whether you try to be or not."
His shoulders angled slightly toward her—protective, subtle.
"hmm...," she replied, she was too lost for words.
Julian could sense her hesitation.
"If assumptions bother you," he said, "I'll shut them down."
Then, after a pause, almost thoughtfully:
"But if they don't…"his gaze held hers for a second too long,"…I won't interfere."
Aurelia gulped and she was getting sick of the knots forming in her stomach everytime he looked at her a bit longer.
Julian's presence felt steadier now—less teasing, more there. Like he'd made up his mind about something and wasn't announcing it out loud.
Professor Hale's pen tapped sharply on the podium.
Julian leaned back just enough to look neutral to the room—then murmured, barely moving his lips:
"Tell me if I cross a line."
"Sure," she replied softly.
A subtle flirt.
Aurelia was noticing Professor Hale's staring and stolen glances from the start of the lecture and it was almost to be over now, and it kept bothering her.
"Julian, do you see how this Haley Baley keeps staring. Or am i just hallucinating?"
The moment settled—charged, quiet, unresolved.
He waited—just long enough for your annoyance to settle into the space
"What? Professor Hale, yeah," he said quietly. "I've been noticing too, you know"
Only then did he glance forward—just once—to confirm what she was saying.
"…You're not wrong," he admitted under his breath. "Hale's been staring since you stood up."
There was slight jealousy in Julian's tone.
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice even more.
"But listen to me for a second."
His eyes returned to hers, calm but firm now.
"You didn't invite it. And it doesn't mean anything you don't want it to."
A pause.
"And the assumptions?" he continued softly. "They're not about us doing something wrong."
His gaze flicked briefly to where his knee still rested near hers, then back up.
"They're about people filling the sparking silence with stories."
"Maybe I shouldn't focus too much on the attention I'm getting," Aurelia nodded at Julian's statements.
Professor Hale cleared his throat again—too loud, too deliberate—and asked another question to the hall, eyes still drifting her way.
Julian noticed. Of course he did.
He shifted just enough to block part of that line of sight, not obvious, not confrontational—just instinctive.
"If it's making you uncomfortable," he said quietly, "we can switch seats after the break."
Then, gentler—almost teasing to cut the tension—
"But don't pretend the lecture isn't important just because someone forgot how to be subtle."
A beat.
"Sure Julian," she says softly, agreeing with his thoughts. He was very thoughtful.
"And Aurelia?"His voice softened again.
"Hmm?" she looked up.
"What do you say about you know, leaving this lecture and about my too thoughtful thoughts. Hmm?" he asked rather hesitatingly.
His question was like a door to freedom for Aurelia.
"I swear to God, I never understand what you're saying because it's way beyond my level of understanding," she confessed, "And... Can we Please please pleasee leave this lecture," she almost sounded like begging and Julian couldn't help but find it adorable.
Julian's reaction was instant.
But serious in a way that made it clear he'd stopped treating this as casual five minutes ago.
He turned fully toward her, brows knitting—not annoyed at her, but at the situation.
"Alright," he said quietly. No hesitation. "Then we're leaving."
Aurelia's lips parted and she almost hugged him but she restrained that thought and whispered,"Thanks Julian, you're amazing".
Julian's eyes widened a fraction and he could swear his stomach felt funny.
No arguing.
He glanced toward the front once more. Professor Hale's eyes were, again, where they shouldn't be.
Julian's jaw tightened.
"Grab your things," he murmured, already shifting in his seat. "Don't look at him."
He stood first—deliberately, calmly—placing himself between her and the front of the hall as he did. From the outside, it looked polite. Normal.
From where she was sitting, it felt protective.
"Let's go Julian," she said while adjusting her clothes.
When she stood, he leaned in just enough to whisper:
"You don't owe anyone your discomfort for their curiosity."
She smiled and nodded.
A few students noticed them leaving. Whispers followed. Someone scoffed. Someone stared.
Julian didn't care.
As they moved into the aisle, Professor Hale's voice cut through the room—
"Mr. Whittaker?"
Aurelia stopped dead in her tracks and looked up at at Julian.
Julian didn't stop walking.
"Orientation materials are online," he replied evenly, not turning around. "My roommate isn't feeling well."
Not a lie. Just… selective truth.
He grabbed Aurelia's hand and got her moving.
He is simply hot and amazing, Aurelia couldn't help but stare at him in awe.
The doors closed behind them with a soft but final thud.
The hallway outside felt cooler. Quieter. Safer.
Julian exhaled slowly, then looked down at her.
The height difference was differencing.
Aurelia reached just about his collar bone and she craned her neck to look up at him and he bent his head down to talk to her.
This was HOT. They both knew.
"You okay?" he asked—not rushed, not hovering, just trying to ease the sparks between them.
"Uh.. Yeah, Thanks again Julian," she said as she kept looking up and she then rubbed her neck. It was a pain in the neck to keep looking up at him.
Julian noticed her, and softly apologetically said:
"Sorry I didn't pull us out sooner Aurelia".
"It's nothing to be sorry about Julian," she said softly.
They were alone now. Just the two of them. Footsteps echoing faintly in the distance.
And for the first time since they arrived…
The pressure lifted.
They kept walking along the corridor until...
Aurelia spotted a mirror and stopped.
Julian paused too when she stopped.
She stared at her reflection and almost absentmindedly muttered,"It hurts to be this beautiful, why did you do this mom...". Didn't joke. He just… waited.
When she whispered that—so quietly it felt like she hadn't meant anyone else to hear it—his reflection met hers in the mirror before his eyes met her.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then, softly:
"That sounds exhausting."
"It is..." she murmured while still looking at her reflection.
He leaned one shoulder against the wall beside the mirror, careful to keep space between them—present, not crowding.
"People think being beautiful is a privilege," he continued in a low voice. "But they forget it turns you into something public. Something discussed. Watched."
His gaze stayed on her reflection, not her face—like he didn't want to add to that weight.
She kept listening.
"You didn't ask for that," he said. "And you're allowed to hate the parts of it that make you feel unsafe."
A beat.
Then, lighter—gentler, trying to ground her:
"For what it's worth… it's not your face that unsettles people."
He finally looked at her then, eyes steady.
"It's the way you don't shrink."
She finally looked at him.
Footsteps echoed faintly somewhere down the corridor. A door closed. The world kept moving.
Julian straightened, slipping his hands into his pockets. He knew he couldn't handle her eyes on him.
"Do you want to sit somewhere quiet for a minute?" he asked. "Or walk it off."
Just an offer—given like he expected her to choose for yourself.
"Hmm... Take me wherever feels right..." she quietly said as she exhaled.
Julian's lips curved—not into a grin, not into a smirk.
Somewhere far off, Taylor Swift's Love story played;
That you were Romeo, you were throwin' pebblesAnd my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"And I was cryin' on the staircaseBeggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said
Romeo, take me somewhere we can be aloneI'll be waiting, all there's left to do is runYou'll be the prince and I'll be the princessIt's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"
Aurelia started singing along with it..
"I said Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone..."
Julian's breath hitched at her beautiful voice.
He instinctively stopped walking to just listen.
her voice was like a warm, soft blanket wrapping around him.
She stopped and then turned to him.
"Julian?" she placed a hand on his arm,"You okay?"
Something quieter.
"Y...yeah Aurelia!" he regained his senses and replied too quickly,"I'm absolutely fine, what would happen to me? See I'm good as ever!"
He sounded so fake that Aurelia looked him with her mouth a bit open and a weird look on her face.
"Err... You sure about that? You seem weird, I don't know?", her hand then flew to her mouth and she shook her head,"Did i sound awful while singing?"
He looked away for a second, like he needed the space to answer honestly.
"Aurelia...You... You sound amazing, I...I... I don't have any words to describe it," he ran his hands thru his hair,"You're really gorgeous and you also sound more beautiful than any girl I've seen your age".
Julian looked at her shyly, avoiding eye contact and he rubbed the back of his neck.
Aurelia's lashes fluttered slowly as if she could feel his words straight into her.
Heat crept up Aurelia's neck and she looked away immediately.
"Oh... well. Julian I-I..Thanks, You said too much," she was too flustered to say any further.
An awkward silence filled the tension between them.
Aurelia decided to break it,"You know Julian, you must be the first guy to not be very overwhelmed by my beauty," she smiled softly and fidgeted with her pretty fingers,"You just stated the obvious normally, thanks for not being intimidated".
"Intimidated?" he echoed softly. Then he shook his head once, almost to himself."No."
He turned back to her, expression open now—unguarded in a way she hadn't seen from him yet.
"I noticed," he said calmly. "I just didn't make it your problem."
A pause.
"Beauty doesn't scare me," he added. "What people do with it does."
His gaze held hers, steady but warm, like he wasn't trying to impress her—just be clear.
"And for the record," he went on, lighter now, a hint of dry humor slipping in,"I'm not brave. I just don't confuse attraction with authority."
"Yeah, you're impressively composed Julian,"she smiled and nodded at his submission,"And you've got a very dry sense of humor that somehow still sounds good".
She chuckled lightly.
They were still by the mirror, Aurelia was half-aware of herself, half-aware of him. Julian shifted slightly closer—not enough to crowd her, just enough that she didn't feel alone in her reflection anymore.
"You don't need someone who's dazzled," he said."You just need someone who stays rational when people lose their minds".
(It was a hot statement).
Then, almost as an afterthought—quiet, unclaimed:
"I'm good at that."
Aurelia's breath hitched once more, he confessed nothing without confessing anything.
The hallway felt calmer now. Like the tension had drained out of the walls.
Aurelia nodded,"Yeah Julian, you're the only one".
Julian glanced down at his watch to avoid her gaze, he was very flustered and he didn't want her to get any ideas about how he was starting to feel.
"We've got time before my next class," he said. "Coffee? Or fresh air?"
He didn't say with me.
He didn't need to.
He knew Aurelia would never say no. He had a great sense of judgement when it came to her because they both shared the same personality.
"Let's go for coffee Julian," she said softly.
And almost immediately she added without a second thought:
"Julian, you might catch me staring at my reflection in spoons, mirrors, anything that reflects," she looked up at him,"I actually look like my mom, so i...see her in myself. I hope you get what I am saying".
Julian slowed his step immediately when she said that.
Not abruptly—just enough to match her soft short steps that were nothing compared to his long strides.
"Oh," he said quietly. Not surprised. Not awkward. Just… gentle.
He didn't look at her reflection in the mirrors on the walls this time. He looked at her.
"That makes sense," he added after a beat. "More than you probably think."
"You think so?" she sounded disagreed with his statement,"I've been called weird things for looking into mirrors and things too long".
They stepped outside together—the doors opening to a wash of cool air, muted sunlight, trees lining the quad. The noise softened. The space breathed.
Julian stopped near the railing, resting his forearms there, giving her the option to speak—or not.
"When someone you never really knew and loved, now lives in your face," he said softly, choosing his words with care, "mirrors stop being about vanity."
A pause.
"They become proof."
He glanced out across the grounds, then back to her—not staring, not studying. Just present.
"You're not looking because you admire yourself," he continued. "You're looking because you're trying to recognize her."
"You actually understand me alot Julian," she softly smiled at his careful observation and his deep thoughts. She now understood that he saw things from a perspective people normally deny.
He simply nodded.
The breeze moved a few strands of her hair. Julian didn't reach for them. He didn't need to.
"If you ever want," he said, voice steady,"you can talk about her like she's real. Not like a story you're supposed to summarize."
"I promise I will," she said as if she was handing him an important piece of her.
He then spoke, lightly—so she didn't feel exposed:
"And if you ever catch your reflection in a spoon," he added, a hint of warmth slipping in,"I promise not to judge."
"I know you'll never judge me for it Julian," she confessed softly,"You know, you're really amazing!"
Julian composed himself and just managed a soft smile at her statement.
The campus stretched wide and quiet in front of them.
No eyes. No pressure. Just air.
Julian tilted his head slightly, curiosity soft—not prying.
"Did people ever tell you what she was like?"
A pause.
Aurelia looked at him and her eyes turned soft in a bad way and her bottom lip almost trembled, and he could swear he saw see water appearing in her very beautiful eyes.
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