When he called me Blossom.

CHAPTER ONE

ST.VERENA ACADEMY

Rain made St. Verena Academy look holier than it actually was.
The tall cathedral windows glowed gold against the storm, students crowded beneath black umbrellas, and somewhere near the entrance, two girls were already crying over a breakup dramatic enough to deserve background music.
Diana Vale walked past all of it without slowing down.
New school.
Same rich people.
Same fake smiles.
Same exhausting hierarchy.
Her boots echoed against the marble floors as conversations lowered around her.
Not because they knew her.
Because they recognized the surname.
Vale.
That name had already spread through the school before she even arrived.
Transfers were interesting.
Rich transfers were dangerous.
And daughters of broken families?
Those became entertainment.> The classroom went quieter the moment Diana Vale stepped inside.

Not silent.

Just distracted enough to notice her.

She moved with the kind of confidence that didn’t ask for attention yet somehow demanded it anyway. Long dark brown hair fell in soft waves down her back, slightly damp from the rain outside. Her school blazer hung loosely over her shoulders, sleeves pushed up carelessly like she had better things to do than follow dress code rules. But still she wore those nerdy spectacles hoping that nobody will catch her attention

Sharp eyes scanned the room once — calm, unreadable, intelligent. The kind of eyes that looked like they noticed everything and trusted nothing.

Her beauty wasn’t delicate.

It was dangerous in quieter ways.

A sharp jawline softened by glossed lips. Smooth skin. A figure elegant enough to turn heads without trying. Even standing beneath the harsh classroom lights, she looked expensive somehow — like she belonged in old photographs and bad decisions.

Some girls stared because they felt threatened.
Some boys stared because they forgot how not to.

Diana noticed both.

She simply didn’t care. Despite the slightly nerdy spectacles she wore, hoping nobody would pay too much attention to her, there was still something impossible to ignore about Diana Vale.

Maybe it was the confidence in the way she walked.
Maybe it was the sharpness hidden behind her quiet expression.
Or maybe it was the kind of beauty that didn’t need effort to become dangerous.

Most of the class stared for only a few seconds before pretending not to.

But the guy sitting near the back window never looked away. Her eyes were the kind people remembered accidentally.

Dark brown under the classroom lights, almost black whenever the clouds covered the sun. Sharp enough to feel like a warning, yet strangely unreadable at the same time.

They carried a quiet intelligence that made it seem like Diana was always observing more than she admitted. Even behind her nerdy spectacles, her gaze felt intense — calm, patient, and slightly dangerous.

The kind of eyes that looked like they could keep secrets forever.
  Ms. Fang adjusted the papers in her hands before looking up at the class.

“Settle down,” she said sharply, though the whispers continued for a few more seconds anyway.

Her eyes shifted toward Diana.

“Since everyone seems so interested,” Ms. Fang sighed, “why don’t you introduce yourself?”

Every gaze in the classroom turned toward her again.

Diana remained calm.

She adjusted her spectacles slightly before speaking in a smooth, almost indifferent voice.

“Diana Vale.”

That was it.

A few students waited for more.

None came.

Ms. Fang raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Diana looked at her politely.

“And… that’s my name.”

A few students laughed quietly.

Someone near the back muttered, “Damn.”

But across the classroom, the boy near the window still hadn’t looked away from her once.  

Ms. Fang pinched the bridge of her nose like she already regretted this semester.

“Right,” she muttered dryly. “You can take the empty seat near the window.”

Diana followed her gaze.

The only empty seat in the classroom sat directly beside the quiet boy in the back row.

Of course it did.

Soft whispers immediately spread across the room.

“She’s sitting next to him?”
“Good luck.”
“This should be entertaining.”

Diana ignored every single one of them and walked toward the seat calmly, her shoes echoing softly against the floor.

The boy didn’t move as she sat down beside him.

Up close, he looked even more unreadable. Black hair falling carelessly over his forehead. Sleeves rolled up slightly. A faint scar near his eyebrow.

He smelled like rain and cigarette smoke hidden beneath expensive cologne.

Diana placed her notebook down.

“You know,” she said quietly while opening her pen, “staring at people this much is usually considered creepy.”

For the first time since she entered the classroom, the corner of his mouth moved slightly.

Not quite a smile.

Worse.

Interest.