Chapter 8 - Roses | The Heir's Obsession Web Novel By Aimi Hikaru

He knew her secret before she even spoke it.

She looked at the courtyard instead.

Through the archway beside them, she could see the small stone courtyard that opened onto the rose beds.

Deep red. Almost black in the morning light.

They grew wilder there than they did at the gate. Thick bushes, tall stems, petals that looked like they'd been soaked in blood and left to dry. They were beautiful in the way a knife was beautiful. In the way he was beautiful.

Beautiful.

Alive.

Waiting.

"I guess you love those roses."

His voice came from beside her.

Low and even. Not mocking or flirting. Just observing.

And Qistina felt her body react before her mind could stop it.

She knew that voice. She'd heard it in lectures, in hallways, in the way he spoke to professors and students and everyone in between. The kind of voice that made people listen without knowing why.

But at this distance, something else stirred within her.

It made her aware of him. Physically. In a way she didn't want to be.

He was tall.

Tall enough that standing beside her, she had to tilt her head up just to see his shoulder. Tall enough that everyone else in the corridor suddenly looked smaller, and that he took up space without trying.

And he was built for it, lean in the shoulders, solid in the chest, with long limbs and the body of someone who'd trained for years in boxing, martial arts, and endurance. He moved like a fighter and stood like a weapon.

Even standing still.

She glanced at him once, catching only the side of his face, before lowering her gaze again.

Sharp features. A jaw that cut. Black hair, thick, falling over his forehead like he'd run his fingers through it too many times. He did that when he was thinking.

She knew that. She'd seen him do it a hundred times without ever wanting to.

And she hated that she knew it.

His eyes were the part she never got used to.

Hazel. Dark in low light. Almost gold when the sun hit them. But it wasn't the color that made them dangerous.

It was the way they moved.

He noticed everything. Every exit. Every lie. Every flinch. When Raffa Fathurrahman looked at you, you felt it, not as a threat, but as a fact.

He was seeing you.

He was cataloguing you.

He was deciding what to do with what he saw.

Her eyes caught on the small scar on his jaw.

She'd never asked about it.

She didn't need to.

She knew where it came from.

She'd been there when it happened.

"How did you know?" Qistina asked carefully. She suddenly felt curious.

Raffa returned her gaze. "Know what?"

"That I love roses?" The girl's eyes narrowed.

"It's not that hard, Qis. I can simply guess..." Raffa moved closer, whispering something into Qistina's ear.

"From the way you look at it."

Qistina was stunned. The tone of his voice was intentionally teasing. It wasn't a mocking tone. It sounded slightly different from before. Slowly, she tilted her head up and looked at the man's face. Raffa was still staring at her with an expression that was hard to read.

It only lasted a second before Qistina looked away.

"Watch where you go next time." That was all he said.

No apology, edge, and demand. He simply dropped the words in that low, flat voice of his, then walked away.

He turned and walked past her, past the roses and the courtyard, past the students who had suddenly remembered how to move. Slowly, the corridor came back to life.

Qistina stood where she was.

Still.

Breathing.

Watch where you go next time.

It wasn't a threat.

It wasn't a warning.

It was something else entirely, something she couldn't name. Something that made her heart race and her skin feel too tight.

She hated it.

She hated him.

She'd spent two years hating him.

And yet, for one second, just one, standing in that corridor with the roses burning red in the courtyard behind her, she'd wanted to ask him a question. What happened that night? What exactly happened during that first semester? What happened two years ago?

Yeah, it's been two years... since that happened. She just can't forget it until now. Maybe, forever. For the rest of her life.

She hadn't.

She'd never.

She'd rather forget. She closed her eyes.

And the memory came anyway.

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The Heir's Obsession Web Novel By Aimi Hikaru.