The room was too quiet, too still—like it was holding its breath.
Adrian sat on the edge of his office couch, tie loose, eyes darkened with something unreadable. Isabel stood by the bookshelf, arms crossed, the tension between them humming like static.
"You haven't said anything since we got here," she whispered, her voice barely holding together. "You just... shut down on me."
He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "What do you want me to say, Isabel? That I'm okay? I'm not. Not when I know Daniel is still around. Not when I saw the look on your face when he touched you."
"It meant nothing!" Her voice cracked. "He just showed up and—Adrian, I froze. You don't know what it's like, what he used to—"
"I do know," Adrian cut in, standing now. "I know you're scared, and I know he's poison. But I can't protect you if you keep shutting me out."
"I'm not shutting you out," she said softly, her shoulders sagging. "I'm trying to protect you."
Their eyes locked. The silence returned, thicker this time.
Then he crossed the room in three steps and kissed her. It wasn't gentle. It was the kind of kiss that tore everything open—grief, want, rage, need. She melted into him, her fingers curling into his shirt, grounding herself. His arms were wrapped around her like she was the last real thing left in a crumbling world.
"I'm yours," he breathed against her lips, forehead pressed to hers. "Even when I shouldn't be."
"I don't care about the rules anymore," she whispered. "I just want you."
Their clothes fell in a trail toward the couch. Skin met skin, their passion fierce and messy, like two people trying to drown out everything except each other. There were no titles here. No Professor. No student. Just Adrian and Isabel—burning, breaking, belonging.
Afterward, they lay tangled together, the silence now peaceful, healing.
"Are we being reckless?" Isabel asked, head resting on his chest.
"Absolutely," Adrian replied, brushing hair from her cheek. "But I'd rather be reckless with you than safe without you."
---
Elsewhere, Vanessa sat on the floor of Zara's studio, watching her paint.
"I missed this," Vanessa said softly.
Zara looked up, a warm smile tugging at her lips. "Us?"
"No... well, yes. But I meant this—you, creating, the way your face lights up."
Zara wiped her hands and walked over. "I heard about Isabel's ex causing trouble. You okay?"
Vanessa nodded slowly. "I'm worried for her. But I'm also... confused about us."
"Because of Jude?" Zara asked gently.
Vanessa didn't respond right away. She stared out the window, words tangled in her throat.
"I never expected to feel something for someone else. Let alone... a guy."
Zara's smile dimmed, but she nodded. "Then maybe it's time you figure that out. I want you to be happy—even if it's not with me."
Vanessa's chest ached. "You've always been too good to me."
"And I always will be," Zara said, kissing her forehead before stepping away.
---
Meanwhile, Jude paced in the campus courtyard, phone in hand. He'd seen Vanessa with Zara. Again.
He didn't have a right to be jealous. But he was. And it hurt more than he expected.
He looked up and saw Vanessa approaching. She gave him a tired smile.
"I owe you an explanation," she said. "About everything."
He nodded, heart thudding. "I'm listening."
And somewhere, just beyond their pain, a new kind of beginning stirred.