Beneath The Crimson Gaze

The days following Alishia's bold move to sit with Arthur at lunch were... different. Every glance from her classmates felt heavier, every whispered comment louder. She had always been at the center of attention, but now the stares and murmurs weren't just about her. They were about him too.

Arthur, however, seemed completely unbothered. He continued with his usual quiet routine, slipping in and out of class without a word to anyone but her. It was as though the rest of the world didn't exist for him.

Sophie was quick to pounce on Alishia during their study session that evening.

"Okay, spill," Sophie demanded, flipping her notebook shut. "You're sitting with him now? At lunch?"

Alishia sighed, setting her pencil down. "It's not a big deal, Sophie. He's... nice. And honestly, I think people misunderstand him."

Sophie raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Nice? Alishia, you're talking about Arthur Virelith. He's practically a ghost. I didn't even know he could speak until last week."

Alishia frowned, her mind flashing to the quiet, contemplative boy she was slowly beginning to understand. "Maybe people just don't take the time to know him."

Sophie tilted her head, studying her friend. "You've got it bad, don't you?"

Alishia felt her cheeks heat up. "I do not!"

The next morning, Alishia found herself lingering outside the school gates. It wasn't intentional—at least, that's what she told herself. But when she spotted Arthur walking up the path, his white hair catching the morning sunlight, her heart quickened.

He noticed her immediately, pausing as their eyes met. "Waiting for someone?" he asked, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Alishia shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Maybe."

Arthur chuckled softly and fell into step beside her. They walked together in comfortable silence, the chatter of other students fading into the background.

"You're really okay with people talking about us?" he asked suddenly, his tone light but his eyes serious.

Alishia looked at him, surprised. "Why wouldn't I be? Let them talk."

He glanced at her, something unreadable flickering in his crimson eyes. "You're braver than I thought."

During English class, Alishia found it harder than ever to focus. Arthur sat behind her, and she was acutely aware of his presence. Every time he shifted in his seat or leaned forward, her heart skipped a beat.

"Miss White," the teacher's voice cut through her thoughts, "would you care to share your thoughts on the symbolism in this passage?"

Alishia's face burned as she stumbled through an answer, her classmates' muffled laughter echoing in her ears.

After class, Arthur caught up to her in the hallway. "Tough question," he said, his tone teasing.

"Don't start," she groaned, but she couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips.

"Here," he said, handing her a folded piece of paper.

She unfolded it to find a note, written in his neat, precise handwriting: "The symbolism represents hidden truths. You'd know a thing or two about that."

Alishia looked up at him, her cheeks warming. "Very funny."

Arthur's smirk widened. "I try."

That evening, as Alishia sat on her balcony, Max curled up at her feet, she noticed movement next door. Arthur was out on his balcony, leaning against the railing with a book in hand.

"Long day?" she called over, surprising even herself.

He looked up, his expression softening. "Something like that."

"You read a lot," she observed.

He nodded. "It's an escape. You'd be surprised what you can learn from stories."

Alishia leaned forward, resting her chin on her arms. "What's your favorite?"

Arthur thought for a moment, then said, "Probably one where the hero finds something—or someone—they didn't know they needed."

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she couldn't help but wonder: was he talking about a book? Or something more?