Novels by Starwhite

Alicia’s eyes scanned Kevin’s room. It was smaller than the one she shared with Raymond, and the contrast inside was almost comical. Two beds. Two worlds.Her gaze drifted slowly across the space, absorbing every detail like she had stumbled into a live exhibition of clashing personalities.One side screamed look at me, posters of half-naked girls plastered across the walls, bold colors fighting for attention. The bedsheet was a violent red, the pillowcases patterned with loud flames, as if the owner had decided to turn teenage rebellion into interior décor. A faint whiff of cheap cologne clung to the air there, clashing with the lingering musk of sweat.The other side was… nothing. Plain. The walls painted in a dull nude shade, no serious decorations. A desk stood neatly against the wall, books stacked with precise care, the kind of arrangement that screamed control freak. The bedsheets were gray, simple, ironed smooth without a single wrinkle. It was so neat it almost annoyed her.A

The night was still young, frogs croaking so loud outside it almost felt like a chorus. Alicia had just finished her bath, she’d spent far too long in the bathroom, but she didn’t notice. Dressed in her pajamas, she stepped into the room, her face unreadable, and sank onto the reading table with her phone in hand. She didn’t want to think about what she had seen. Instead, she texted her mum, claiming she was adapting well to campus life and eating properly. A harmless little lie.For a few minutes, she scrolled through social media, letting the random feed distract her. When it stopped working, she sighed, tossed her phone aside, and stretched out on the bed she unfortunately shared with Raymond. The porter had promised “adjustments” soon, but for now, she was stuck. Lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, it hit her that she hadn’t eaten dinner. Not that she had the appetite anyway, Raymond had already killed that earlier. Turning to the side where he usually slept, her chest tigh

Alicia slipped through the back door of the lecture room, heart pounding in her chest like she had just committed a crime. The room was already half full, the lecturer, was scribbling furiously on the whiteboard with one hand while speaking in a thick, rolling accent that swallowed some words and clipped others.She held her breath, praying he wouldn’t turn around.The back door was a blessing. If she had dared to walk in through the front, she might have been roasted alive by his sharp eyes. Instead, she ducked her head, walked quickly along the wall, and slid into the nearest seat.Her pulse thumped in her ears. With quick fingers, she dug into her bag, pulling out her notebook and pen, arranging them neatly on the desk as if her level of preparedness could erase the fact that she was late.It was only after a moment when the panic had receded that she noticed the person sitting beside her.A familiar jawline. Familiar hair. Familiar sharp eyes that seemed to make her intrigued even

Raymond stepped out of the room like a man who owned the building. His strides were steady, his expression unreadable, and yet students melted out of his path without needing a word. Some drifted into corners, pretending to be engaged in conversation. Others simply crossed to the far end of the corridor, too wary to brush against him. He didn’t stop until he reached the porter’s office. The porter, with his perpetually dull eyes and bored expression looked up. A flicker of recognition passed through those lifeless eyes, and without a single question, he understood. The warden. With a quiet creak, he pushed open a door cleverly concealed behind the wall of shelves. At first glance, it looked like nothing more than the background of the office. To the untrained eye, one wouldn’t even suspect a passage was there. “Thanks, Thomas,” Raymond murmured. He slipped through, into a different world. The hidden office gleamed. Polished wood, expensive furniture, neatly arranged books in

The first light of dawn crept through the dormitory hallway, spilling pale gold across the tiles. The building was quiet, save for the shuffle of early risers with heavy steps.Then he appeared.Raymond Ashford.His return was striking. His shirt was wrinkled, sleeve torn at the seam, dark hair tousled across his forehead. The faint smell of earth and pine clung to him, sharp as if the forest itself followed him back. His stride was steady, his expression unreadable, but his shoulders carried a quiet authority.And people noticed.A boy flattened against the lockers as Raymond passed. A girl crossed the hall to avoid him. Another whispered to her friend, both ducking their heads. They didn’t know why, couldn’t explain it, but his aura screamed danger.He ignored them, heading straight to his room.Inside, Alicia was awake, cross-legged on the bed, hair in a messy bun, pen tucked behind her ear. She looked up when the door opened.“Oh.” Her lips curved into a smirk. “So you do live her

Dragging herself out of sleep, Alicia blinked at the early light spilling through the narrow dorm window. For a moment, she forgot where she was. Then the memory of yesterday hit her like a splash of cold water, the humiliating encounter with the porter, the argument with Raymond, the ridiculous pillow wall, and the fact that she was stuck in this room with him.‎‎She groaned into her pillow. Day one, and I’m already exhausted.‎‎A sound from the other side of the room caught her attention. Raymond was sitting up, hair tousled but still annoyingly perfect, scrolling on his phone like the world revolved around him.‎‎“You’re up early,” she muttered, throwing the blanket aside.‎‎“Some of us actually have discipline,” he shot back without looking at her.‎‎Alicia rolled her eyes and grabbed her towel. “And some of us have hygiene. Bathroom’s mine first.”‎‎She hopped off the bed before he could argue, slipping into the bathroom with a triumphant grin.‎‎Steam soon fogged the mirr