Adrian didn't tell anyone at school about the nightmares.
He didn't plan to.
School was… different.
It was where things were normal.
Where people didn't know.
Where no one looked at him like they were trying to figure him out.
At least—
That's what he thought.
—
The day started like any other.
Adrian walked in with Alessio, went to class, and sat down without drawing attention to himself.
He focused on his work.
Answered when he was asked.
Didn't rush.
Didn't panic.
From the outside, nothing looked wrong.
But inside—
He was still a little tired.
Still a little slow.
Not like before.
Just enough to notice.
—
It happened during break.
Adrian was at his desk, going over something in his notebook when someone stopped beside him.
"You always sit here?"
Adrian looked up.
It was a girl from his class.
He had seen her before, but they hadn't really talked.
"…Yeah," he said.
She nodded, then leaned slightly against the desk next to his.
"You're quiet."
Adrian looked back down at his notebook.
"…Sometimes."
She didn't leave.
That was new.
Most people didn't stay long if he didn't talk much.
"You don't talk unless someone talks to you first," she added.
Adrian frowned slightly.
"…Is that a problem?"
She shook her head.
"No. Just something I noticed."
Adrian didn't respond.
He didn't know what to say to that.
After a few seconds, she said,
"You're different from when you first came."
That made him look up again.
"…What do you mean?"
She shrugged.
"You used to look like you were about to run away all the time."
Adrian froze slightly.
Not visibly.
But inside, something tightened.
"…I didn't," he said.
She tilted her head.
"You kind of did."
Adrian looked away.
"…I don't anymore."
"I know," she said.
That part confused him.
He looked back at her.
"…How?"
She shrugged again.
"You sit differently. You look at people now. You actually answer questions."
Adrian didn't realize those things had changed.
"…That's normal."
"Yeah," she said. "But you didn't do it before."
Adrian didn't like how much she noticed.
"…Why are you paying attention to that?" he asked.
She smiled slightly.
"I notice things."
Adrian didn't respond.
For a second, he thought about leaving.
But he didn't.
He stayed where he was.
—
She didn't move either.
After a moment, she said,
"You still react sometimes."
Adrian's grip on his pencil tightened slightly.
"…To what?"
"Sounds. People getting too close. Stuff like that."
Adrian felt that same tight feeling again.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Just… awareness.
"…It's nothing," he said.
She didn't agree.
"It's not nothing."
Adrian looked at her.
"…Why does it matter to you?"
She paused for a second.
Then said simply,
"Because it looks like something matters to you."
That answer didn't make things easier.
It made things harder.
Adrian looked away again.
"…It's not your business."
She nodded.
"Okay."
But she didn't leave.
That was the problem.
—
Adrian closed his notebook.
"…Why are you still here?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"You want me to leave?"
Adrian hesitated.
"…I didn't say that."
"Then I'll stay," she said.
Adrian exhaled quietly.
"…You ask too many questions."
She smiled slightly.
"You don't answer enough."
Adrian almost said something back.
But stopped.
Because she wasn't wrong.
—
After a moment, she spoke again.
"You don't have to tell me anything."
Adrian looked at her.
"…Then why ask?"
"Because sometimes people want to say things but don't know how," she said.
Adrian didn't respond.
But something about that stayed with him.
—
The bell rang, and she finally moved.
"See you," she said before walking away.
Adrian watched her for a second.
Then looked back down at his notebook.
He didn't write anything.
He just sat there.
Thinking.
—
At lunch, Alessio noticed something was off.
"You're thinking too much again," he said.
Adrian looked at him.
"…Someone talked to me."
Alessio raised an eyebrow.
"That's normal."
"…Not like this."
Alessio leaned forward slightly.
"What do you mean?"
Adrian hesitated.
"…She noticed things."
Alessio's expression changed slightly.
"What things?"
Adrian looked down at his tray.
"…How I act. How I react."
Alessio didn't like that.
"What did you say?"
"…Nothing," Adrian replied. "I told her it's not her business."
Alessio nodded.
"Good."
Adrian frowned slightly.
"…She didn't push."
"That's also good."
Adrian didn't respond immediately.
"…She said I've changed."
Alessio leaned back.
"You have."
Adrian looked at him.
"…It's obvious?"
"Yeah."
Adrian didn't know how to feel about that.
—
After school, Adrian thought about it again.
The way she spoke.
The things she noticed.
The fact that she didn't leave even when he didn't give her much.
It wasn't like the others.
It wasn't judgment.
It wasn't pressure.
It was just… observation.
And that made it harder to ignore.
—
Back at the mansion, Adrian didn't bring it up immediately.
He sat in the living room, listening to the others, trying to focus on something else.
But it stayed in his mind.
After a while, he spoke.
"…Someone noticed things about me."
Nico looked at him.
"At school?"
Adrian nodded.
"…Yeah."
Dante frowned slightly.
"What kind of things?"
Adrian hesitated.
"…The way I react. The way I used to act before."
The room went quieter.
Marco looked at him.
"And what did you do?"
"…Nothing," Adrian said. "I didn't tell her anything."
Marco nodded.
"That's fine."
Adrian looked down at his hands.
"…She wasn't being rude."
"That doesn't mean you owe her anything," Marco replied.
Adrian nodded slowly.
"…I know."
—
Later that night, Adrian sat in his room again.
This time, he opened his notebook.
He stared at the page for a while before writing.
Someone noticed
He paused.
Then added—
I didn't tell her anything
He tapped the pen lightly against the page.
Then wrote one more line.
I didn't want to
He stared at it.
That part was true.
He didn't want to explain.
Didn't want to go into it.
Didn't want to say things out loud to someone who didn't understand.
But—
There was something else.
Something small.
Something he didn't expect.
He added one last line.
But I didn't feel scared when she asked
Adrian leaned back slightly, looking at the words.
That was new.
Before, something like that would have made him shut down.
Leave.
Avoid.
But this time—
He stayed.
He answered.
Even if it wasn't much.
And that meant something.
—
When he went to bed that night, he thought about it again.
Not the questions.
Not the attention.
Just the feeling.
He wasn't as closed off as before.
Not completely.
But less.
"…I didn't run," he said quietly.
And for him—
That mattered more than anything she had said.