All Chapters of MOONLIGHT MYSTIQUE : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The campus of Halewood University didn’t just breathe with privilege—it choked you with it. The ivory towers gleamed in the sun, smug with their history, their gates always half-open, as though welcoming only those who already belonged. The students glided across the courtyard in curated cliques—sons of businessmen, heirs to corporations, prodigies sculpted for greatness. And then there was me. Eliot Navarro. Scholarship kid. Nobody in the grand order of Halewood. The moment I stepped off the bus, dragging my battered duffel bag across the cobbled path, I felt their eyes. Sharp. Judging. Some mocking. A few curious. But all carried the same unspoken question: What the hell are you doing here? I squared my shoulders. Let them stare. I wasn’t here to blend in. I was here to prove I deserved every square inch of this campus. That’s when I saw him. Leaning against the black marble fountain, surrounded by his entourage like a king with his court, was the kind of boy who didn’t nee

“Get out,” I snapped. Damien leaned against the door, his storm-gray eyes sweeping across my tiny dorm room like it was some fascinating exhibit. His presence filled the space, too large, too sharp, too consuming. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” he drawled, glancing at my battered duffel bag and secondhand books. “Very… humble. Almost tragic.” I clenched my jaw. “You can mock me somewhere else.” “Who says I’m mocking?” He pushed off the door and stepped closer, deliberate, predatory. “There’s something… intoxicating about watching a lion pretending he’s a house cat.” “I’m not interested in your metaphors.” “Liar.” That single word struck harder than it should have. His tone wasn’t mocking this time—it was soft, certain, like he could peel back my skin and read every secret underneath. I backed up instinctively until my legs hit the edge of the bed. He didn’t stop. He closed the distance until his body nearly brushed mine, his heat sinking into me like fire through g

Theo had a way of making everything seem less suffocating. He wasn’t flawless like the rest of Halewood’s golden heirs. He wasn’t dripping with arrogance, wasn’t weighed down by his family name. He was messy. He laughed too loud, ate like he hadn’t seen food in weeks, and seemed to exist in perpetual disarray. And somehow, that chaos felt… safe. In a campus full of masks and sharpened smiles, Theo was the only one who didn’t pretend. We started sitting together in lectures. Meeting in the library. Sharing late-night coffee runs when assignments buried us alive. With him, I could breathe. I could almost forget about Damien’s storm-gray eyes, the way they followed me like a shadow stitched to my skin. Almost. Because Damien never let me forget for long. --- It was small things at first. A seat saved for me in class, even though I hadn’t asked. Theo joking about taking me to a party—Damien suddenly “showing up” at that exact café, sliding into the booth beside me without invi

At first, I thought it was coincidence. Theo was late to class one morning, storming in ten minutes after the lecture had started, hair messier than usual, muttering curses under his breath. He flopped down beside me, shoving a crumpled paper into his bag. “What happened to you?” I whispered. “Nothing,” he said, brushing it off. “Just—lost my assignment. Had to redo it last minute.” But I saw the frustration in his eyes. The next day, he spilled coffee on his shirt—except he hadn’t bought coffee. Someone else had bumped into him, deliberate and too forceful to be an accident. Theo had laughed it off, but his hands had curled into fists. Then came the worst. We were in the middle of lunch when Theo’s phone buzzed. He read the screen, face paling, then shoved it into his pocket. “You okay?” I asked. “Yeah. Just… forgot about a tutoring session.” He stood quickly, tray half-finished. “I’ll catch you later.” But his smile was brittle. His eyes were tight. And when I caught a g

The next morning, I tried to act like nothing had happened.Like Damien hadn’t been in my room. Like he hadn’t pressed me against the door, his voice dripping with possession, his touch searing into my skin. I told myself I could bury it, bury him.But the problem with storms is that pretending they aren’t there doesn’t make them disappear. They only grow darker, heavier, waiting to break.---Theo was already in his seat when I slid into class. He looked up with that easy grin, holding out a muffin like a peace offering.“You look like hell,” he said.“Didn’t sleep much,” I muttered, taking it anyway.He watched me for a second too long, worry creasing his brow. I wanted to tell him. About the whispers in the dark. About Damien’s hand on my jaw. About how his voice lingered in my head, calling me mine. But the words stuck in my throat.And then, as if summoned by my silence, the air shifted.The lecture hall fell quiet, a ripple of tension spreading through the rows. I didn’t need to