Chapter 3: Sparks in the Quadrangle

After leaving Adrian’s office, Elara forced herself to focus. She walked to the library, settling into a quiet corner with her notes. For a while, she managed it; studying, highlighting, scribbling reminders, but even there, her mind kept wandering back to him.

The tilt of his head, the way he’d studied her hands, the small, deliberate smile at the end. She pushed it aside, telling herself it was just a fleeting thought.

When she finished, she met Nyra at the quadrangle. The sun was soft, the air warm, and students lounged lazily on the grass.

They grabbed drinks and joined a few friends, laughing and talking about nothing in particular. Elara participated, but her mind lingered elsewhere.

Every time someone walked by, she half-expected to see him there, as if he might suddenly appear and disturb the normal rhythm of her day.

Later, she returned to her apartment. Dinner was quiet, she ate quickly, mechanically, and then her phone rang. It was her mother.

They chatted briefly, the conversation light, ordinary, full of concern for classes and her well-being. Elara smiled, laughed, reassured her mom, but even then, her thoughts kept drifting back.

Meanwhile, Adrian finished his first long day on campus. His office was tidy, his notes stacked neatly on his drsk as he turned the light off and locked the door securely.

The stroll to his apartment was short, and even though it was on campus, the residential area reserved for staff was quiet.

As he walked up into the lobby of his apartment building, his phone rang, and he answered it without looking at the caller ID, distracted by an envelope in his assigned mailbox.

"Hello? Adrian?" It was his mother.

He tore his eyes briefly from the envelope wsitinh for him snd spent a few minutes talking to his mother, her voice warm and familiar. After he hung up, he walked back to the mailbox and picked up the envelope.

Sighing, he stuffed the envelope under his arm and dug in his pocket for his keys. The door swung open silently but slammed shut, locking automatically.

He flicked the switch on before tossing his briefcase keys and phone on the centre Island that divided the living room from the kitchen.

Nonchalantly, he strolled into the kitchen, opened a drawer, and took out a small knife before snatching the letter still hoisted under his arm.

Slicing the envelope open, he saw a letter and a postcard signed, Greg Moore. Adrian couldn't remember the last time he saw his dad and he was perfectly fine when the man kept his distance, so why was he now trying to reconnect with the son he abandoned decades ago.

His tossed the postcard on the table and scanned the content of the letter, nothing oarticularly catching his eye, so he tossed that too.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he walked to the living room and sunk unto the closest sofa, his head throbbing a bit, his mind racing a mile an hour.

Suddenly, he flew to his feet as he realised the thoughts swimming in his head were not on his father. His mind had been elsewhere, on the student who had lingered in his office, who had stayed on his mind longer than he wanted.

For both of them, the day ended ordinary, but neither could shake the quiet pull, the sense that something had started that neither could fully name, or escape.

That night, Elara lay awake longer than she meant to. Just…thinking.

She told herself it was harmless. A passing distraction. The kind that showed up unexpectedly and disappeared just as easily once life moved on. She had felt things before and survived them. This would be no different.

By the time she turned off the light, she was certain of it. The feeling would pass.

Two days later, it hadn’t.

Elara’s steps felt unusually heavy as she left her apartment that afternoon. She had spent a while trying to convince herself that Adrian Moore was nothing more than a fleeting curiosity; a student observing a young, attractive professor, but the thought refused to let her be.

Her chest still fluttered when she recalled the way he had studied her hands, the slight tilt of his head, the measured smile he’d given her before she left his office.

She shook her head, trying to push the image aside. It’s nothing, she told herself. Just a professor. Just a fleeting impression.

Move on! she screamed internally.

Even so, she found herself wandering toward the quadrangle, where Nyra had promised to meet her. Maybe being around friends would help clear her mind, push him to the back of her thoughts.

When she arrived, the usual scene unfolded: groups of students sprawled across the grass, Frisbees bouncing, guitars strumming, the low hum of conversations mingling with occasional bursts of laughter. Nyra was already there, lounging against a tree, smiling as she waved Elara over.

“There you are,” Nyra said.

“You look…preoccupied. Everything okay?”

Elara forced a small smile. “Just studying,” she said, trying to sound casual, though her chest tightened at the memory of Adrian.

Nyra raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Studying,” she said, clearly unconvinced, but she let it go.

“Come on, let’s grab a drink. At least pretend the sun isn’t melting your brain.”

They sat on the edge of the fountain, sipping lightly from their bottles, joking with a few friends who wandered by. For a few minutes, Elara managed to focus on them, laughing at jokes and responding to casual questions, but her eyes kept flicking toward the path that led across the quad.

And then he appeared.

Adrian Moore.

Not in a classroom. Not behind the lectern. Just walking through the quadrangle, carrying a stack of papers, his posture relaxed yet commanding.

He caught sight of her almost immediately, and for the briefest moment, she thought her heart had stopped.

He slowed, adjusting the papers in his arms. Then, almost casually, he approached their group.

“Elara,” he said, a hint of warmth in his voice.

She blinked, scrambling for composure. “Professor Moore,” she managed, her voice steadier than she felt.

He glanced around the small circle of friends, giving them a polite nod, then focused entirely on her. “Mind if I…sit?” he asked, indicating a spot next to her on the fountain’s edge.

“Uh, no. Sure,” she said, shifting slightly to make room, her pulse suddenly loud in her ears.

For a moment, they said nothing. Adrian’s gaze was steady...observing. And it was terrifying in the most exciting way.

Nyra noticed, giving a small, knowing smirk. “Go ahead, genius,” she whispered. “Talk to him. Don’t overthink it.”

Elara forced herself to look away from Adrian and toward Nyra. “I’m not—uh, I mean, it’s fine,” she muttered.

Adrian’s lips curved ever so slightly. “You always spend so much time in the library?” he asked casually, gesturing to the stack of notes at her side.

“Mostly,” she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Trying to stay on top of readings.”

He nodded. “Impressive,” he said.

Then, as if on a whim, he added, “Most students I meet seem to think studying is optional.”

Elara blinked, caught off guard by the remark, and laughed. He's funny too?

They lingered in conversation, small talk first, classes, assignments, the usual campus minutiae.

And yet, with every word, the tension between them thickened, unspoken but undeniable.