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The week dragged on at a snail's pace, and I hadn't seen Clyde since our tense encounter. Although the guilt still lingered, I was relieved to find that my interactions with Brenda had returned to normal. Mira, curious about the outcome, asked me how my meeting with Clyde had gone, since I had mentioned it to her beforehand. I brushed it off with a casual 'it went fine,' not wanting to delve into the complicated emotions that still swirled inside me.

Of course, I couldn't confide in Mira about the palpable sexual tension that had crackled between Clyde and me - a tension I had likely exaggerated in my own mind, anyway.

Thankfully, life had returned to normal. Brenda and I went about our routine, attending school and sitting together in class as usual. But then, after the lecture, our instructor surprised us by pulling out a box and asking each student to draw out a paper. My curiosity piqued, I wondered what this unexpected exercise was about.

It took a while, but eventually, every student had drawn a paper from the box. Mine read 'Romanticism' in bold letters, while Brenda's paper said 'Victorian Period'. As we compared our slips, confusion spread across the room - each of us had been assigned a different literary topic. The class buzzed with whispers and puzzled glances, wondering what our instructor had in store for us.

"Hello, everyone!" The lecturer's voice cut through the chatter, and we responded in unison, "Hello, sir!"

He paused, surveying the room before dropping the bombshell: "You are one hundred and twenty students, and I had sixty topics in this box. As fate would have it, two of you will find that you've picked the same topic. Your task is to find your partner and work together to study and prepare a presentation. And, to make it even more... exciting," he said with a hint of a smile, "you'll be presenting in front of the whole class in two weeks' time."

The collective groan that filled the room was a clear indication that we all shared a common dread - public speaking!

As soon as the lecturer stepped out, the room erupted into chaos. Everyone scrambled to find their partners, shouting topics and scanning the crowd. Some resourceful students took to typing their topics into the departmental group chat, hoping their partners would see and connect with them. I followed suit, typing 'Romanticism' into the chat, and Brenda did the same with 'Victorian Period'. The noise level rose as people started calling out to each other, trying to locate their matches amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces.

Not long after, my phone buzzed with an incoming message from an unknown number: 'My topic is Romanticism too. Where are you?'

I replied, 'In front of the class,' and stood up, scanning the room for a familiar face. As I waited, I spotted someone scanning the crowd with a hint of confusion - could it—?

I quickly unlocked my phone and dialed the unknown number. The guy's phone in front of me rang, and he looked down at it in surprise before answering. I waved him over, and he nodded, making his way through the crowd towards me.

I nudged Brenda excitedly. "Guess who my partner is?" I asked, nodding discreetly towards the guy approaching us.

Brenda's eyes widened in surprise. "Angel Michael?" she whispered, her voice full of disbelief.

I chuckled and shook my head, still grinning. It was indeed the same guy who had gallantly saved me from falling - what a coincidence!

"Hi," I said with a friendly smile as he finally reached me. He returned the greeting with a simple 'Hi' of his own, his expression neutral. I noticed he didn't seem to recognize me, so I didn't bother reminding him of our previous encounter. Standing at the same height, our eyes met directly.

"How are we going to start?" I asked, trying to hide my exhaustion. The stress of the day had taken its toll, and all I wanted to do was go home and collapse into bed.

My partner suggested, "Maybe we should go home, do some personal research, and meet up next time?"

Could he read minds?

I nodded in agreement, relieved at the prospect of escaping the chaos. And just like that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me to wonder when and where we'd meet again.

I furrowed my brow, feeling a bit perplexed by my partner's sudden departure.

Meanwhile, Brenda was engrossed in a lively conversation with a pretty girl wearing glasses, likely her partner. They seemed to be getting along famously, laughing and gesticulating animatedly. I waited for a few moments, then Brenda excused herself and walked over to me.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," Brenda said, "I'm heading to Sofia's place to discuss our topics. Looks like you're on your own for the walk home today!"

I pouted playfully, and she chuckled, flashing a cheerful grin. "Bye!" she called out, already turning to leave, leaving me to make my way home solo.

By the time I arrived home, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. I headed straight to the bathroom to wash off the day's fatigue, emerging feeling refreshed after a warm shower. I slipped into a comfortable white t-shirt and began to towel-dry my hair when suddenly, a knock at the door broke the silence.

I let out a sigh and, without much hesitation, made my way to the door. I opened it to find Clyde standing there, his presence catching me off guard. I stood frozen, unsure of what to say or do, as he confidently walked in and closed the door behind him, making himself at home as if he owned the place.

I snapped out of my trance-like state, my eyes narrowing. "What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, trying to keep my tone firm.

Clyde's response was casual, "I came to see Brenda," but my gaze was fixed on how he'd made himself at home, sitting comfortably on my bed as if he had every right to be there. The incongruity between his words and actions only added to my growing unease.

"Brenda's not around," I informed him, trying to sound firm. "Didn't she tell you?"

But Clyde just shrugged, "I didn't tell her I was coming."

He stood up, his movements fluid, and approached me, his eyes locked on mine. I tilted my head back slightly, meeting his gaze, and was reminded that he was one of those guys who had a height advantage over me, his tall frame looming just a little too close for comfort.

I was acutely aware that I was alone in the apartment, with no Mira or Brenda to provide a buffer. And to make matters worse, I was face to face with Clyde, my ex-boyfriend, the one I had once loved with all my heart. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized the precarious situation I was in. This was not good, not good at all.

"Clyde, I think it's time for you to leave,"I said firmly, attempting to move towards the door.

But he swiftly grasped my wrist, his grip tight and unyielding. I spun back around, my eyes flashing with irritation. "What do you want, Clyde? What game are you playing?" I demanded, trying to shake off his hold, my voice rising in annoyance.

He released his grip, his eyes never leaving mine. "Nothing, I just want to talk," he said, his voice low and even.

I crossed my arms, skepticism etched on my face. "About what?" I asked, my tone firm.

He took a step closer, his eyes piercing. "You know you never really told me why you broke up with me. After a night together, I woke up to an empty bed and a cold text from you, saying it was over. No explanation, no nothing."

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I simply wasn't feeling you anymore," I said, my voice even.

But his eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint sparking in their depths. I instinctively took a step back, but he moved in closer, his body inches from mine. I felt trapped, unable to move, as his warmth enveloped me. I inhaled deeply, and his familiar scent filled my nostrils, transporting me back to memories I thought I'd long left behind.

I trembled as I felt a strong thrill of tension. "We both know that's not true," Clyde whispered, his breath hot against my ear as he leaned in closer, his words sending a flutter through my chest. His proximity was suffocating, yet mesmerizing, making my heart race with a mix of fear and anticipation...

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