I stepped out of my dormitory, intrigued by the unusual activity in the gym. With practice scheduled for the following day, it seemed odd that something was happening there now. As I approached, my attention was immediately drawn to Arya, and a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. There was something about her presence that stirred a warm feeling in my chest, a sensation I wasn't accustomed to.
My eyes followed her as she interacted with her organization members, her laughter carrying through the air like a melodic tune. It was a sound I hadn't heard before, and it held a certain charm that I couldn't ignore. But then, a figure joined her – Jose, the same person I had encountered earlier. They engaged in conversation, and to my surprise, Arya laughed. That simple sight seemed to ignite something within me – a pang of jealousy that I tried to suppress.
Why did the idea of her laughing with him bother me so much? I scowled, forcing my features back into their customary cold demeanor. I reminded myself that Arya was just a classmate – someone I had barely interacted with beyond our recent project. Gaslighting myself, I scoffed inwardly, convincing myself that her interactions with Jose meant nothing to me.
I entertained the notion that she might be like other girls, seeking attention by feigning interest in something she didn't truly care about. It was an easy explanation, a way to distance myself from the disconcerting emotions that had surged within me.
As they exited the gym together, I decided to intercept them at the entrance. My motive was unclear even to myself, but I found myself needing to speak with Arya again. When I arrived, I caught both of them off guard. Before they could react, I spoke, my voice coming out more authoritative than I intended.
"I need Arya for something," I stated, my grip firm as I took hold of her arm, pulling her slightly closer to my side.
Jose's confusion was palpable as he questioned, "Do you know her?" His voice held a mix of suspicion and curiosity.
Arya's eyes reflected her confusion, and she instinctively pulled her arm away from my grasp. Her voice was tinged with curiosity as she inquired, "Help? What do you need help with?"
Jose's expression shifted, his friendly demeanor giving way to cold seriousness. "I hope you're not causing her any trouble," he stated, the edge in his voice pricking at my pride.
Arya intervened; her voice calm yet decisive. "He's just a classmate," she clarified, her words laced with a hint of frustration. "We're working on a project together."
Jose's nod was brief, his eyes locking onto mine with a guarded intensity. I could feel his scrutiny, his unspoken challenge hanging heavy in the air. His skepticism was evident, and I found myself being pulled into an unspoken battle of wills.
Before their conversation could delve further, I cut in, my attention shifting to Jose as I asked, "Where's Betty?" It was a diversionary tactic, an attempt to shift the focus away from the tension between us.
Jose's response was sharp, his words carrying a thinly veiled insult that tested my patience. "Betty's where people go when they don't want to deal with unnecessary complications," he retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
My fingers clenched at my sides, frustration and anger simmering beneath the surface. Who was he to speak to me in such a manner? His audacity was infuriating, and for a moment, I struggled to contain the emotions bubbling within me.
Arya's intervention was a welcome respite, her voice calm yet assertive. "I should go," she interjected, addressing both of us. "We have a photoshoot to finish."
My fingers clenched at my sides, irritation flickering within me. Who was he to speak to me like that?
As they decided to leave, I watched them walk away – Jose's annoyance evident, Arya's perplexity unmistakable. I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a tangled web of emotions that was far from untangling. Anger simmered within me, bubbling beneath the surface as I tried to make sense of my emotions.
Walking away from the scene, my steps were heavy with contemplation. Why did seeing Arya with Jose affect me so deeply? I prided myself on being a master of detachment, an expert at keeping people at arm's length. Emotions were mere distractions, complications that I had managed to shield myself from – until now.
There was something about her – something that was unraveling my carefully constructed walls, exposing the vulnerability I had long suppressed. It wasn't just the fact that she was beautiful, though that was undeniable. It was more than that. It was the genuine laughter that seemed to come effortlessly from her, the way her eyes lit up with curiosity, and the unabashed enthusiasm she carried with her.
As much as I tried to push it away, her image lingered in my mind. The way she had smiled at Jose, the ease with which they interacted – it gnawed at me. Why did it matter to me? Why did I care so much? I had never cared about someone's interactions before. But there was something about her that had shattered the ice around my heart, even if just a little.
I had always prided myself on being unaffected, on having control over my emotions. And yet, a sense of restlessness had settled within me, a turmoil that I couldn't shake off. It was as if a storm was brewing beneath the surface, threatening to break free and engulf me in its chaos.
I clenched my fists, frustration and confusion warring within me. The encounter with Jose had only heightened the unease I felt. Was it jealousy? No, that couldn't be it. I didn't care about such trivial matters. But then why did it bother me so much to see Arya with him?
With a heavy sigh, I shoved my hands into my pockets, attempting to clear my mind. The truth was, I couldn't explain the emotions that were stirring within me. It was as if I was on the precipice of something unknown, something I had never experienced before. And the uncertainty of it all was both exhilarating and terrifying.
I had to remind myself that I was Nicolo Murillo – cold, unapproachable, and detached. But as I walked through the campus, the image of Arya's laughter and her genuine smile refused to fade. It was as if, in her presence, I was becoming someone I didn't recognize – someone who felt, who cared.
The storm within me continued to brew, and as much as I fought against it, I couldn't deny that Arya Dalton had become a force that was reshaping the very core of my being. Whether I liked it or not, the walls I had built were starting to crumble, and I was left grappling with emotions that I had spent a lifetime avoiding.