Finding light in the darkest places—through love

Evelyn hated the spotlight.

It was an unspoken rule in her life to avoid drawing attention.

She stuck to the back of the classroom, avoided conversations that lasted more than a few seconds, and never—under any circumstances—became the topic of discussion.

So, of course, Adrian had to ruin that too.

It started in the middle of their literature class.

Their professor had just finished an overly dramatic reading of a Shakespearean sonnet when he clapped his hands together and smiled at the class.

"Alright, let's try something fun,"

he said.

"I want you to analyze the next poem with a partner. Pick someone and get to work."

Evelyn instinctively tensed. Group work was the worst.

Usually, she could slide into the background, pretend to be invisible, and let everyone else sort themselves out.

Not this time.

Before she could so much as blink, Adrian had already dropped into the empty seat beside her, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Guess we're partners," he announced.

Evelyn stared at him, horrified.

"Why?"

He leaned on his elbow, smirking.

"Because you're you."

"That's not an answer."

"It is to me."

She exhaled sharply.

"There were literally ten other people you could've partnered with."

"And yet, here we are."

She wanted to strangle him.

Instead, she gritted her teeth and turned her attention to the poem in front of them.

It was some overly romantic nonsense about love and fate—exactly the kind of thing Adrian would find amusing.

"So, what do you think it means?"

she asked, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible.

He hummed, tapping his pen against his chin.

"I think it means the poet was madly in love and kind of dramatic about it."

She gave him a look.

"That's your analysis?"

He grinned. "What? It's true."

She groaned.

"We're going to fail."

He laughed, leaning closer.

"Alright, alright. I'll try harder. But only if you promise not to look at me like you're planning my murder."

"No promises."

They spent the next ten minutes discussing the poem—or rather, Evelyn discussed it while Adrian occasionally threw in commentary that was equal parts frustrating and oddly insightful.

Despite her annoyance, she couldn't deny that he actually listened when she spoke, even if he didn't take things seriously.

She was almost enjoying herself.

Until she realized people were staring.

It wasn't obvious at first.

Just a few glances here and there.

But as the minutes passed, she noticed it more and more—the way whispers spread across the room, the way some of the girls exchanged looks and giggled behind their hands.

Evelyn's stomach dropped.

It was happening again.

She'd spent years perfecting the art of being invisible, but Adrian was the kind of person who naturally drew attention.

And right now, he was sitting beside her, talking to her, smiling at her like she was someone worth noticing.

She clenched her fists beneath the desk.

Adrian must've noticed the change in her posture because his smirk faded slightly.

"You okay?"

She swallowed, trying to keep her voice even.

"People are looking."

He blinked, then glanced around the room as if noticing for the first time.

"Huh. Guess they are."

Her chest tightened.

"This is exactly why I don't—"

"Hey."

His voice was softer now, less teasing.

"Ignore them."

She stared at him as if he'd just suggested breathing underwater.

"That's easy for you to say."

He studied her for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

And then, to her complete horror, he did something she never expected.

He turned to face the room, completely casual, and said,

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

The entire class fell silent.

Evelyn wanted to sink into the floor.

Someone let out a snort, and then the tension broke as people turned away, pretending they hadn't been staring in the first place.

The whispers died down, and soon, the class went back to their assignments as if nothing had happened.

Evelyn gaped at him.

"What. Was. That."

He shrugged.

"Problem solved."

"You just made it worse!"

"Did I?"

He smirked.

"Look around. No one's staring anymore."

She hesitated, realizing he was right. But still.

"That was mortifying."

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Maybe. But now they know you're not someone to mess with."

She wasn't sure whether to be grateful or strangle him.

She settled for groaning into her hands.

Adrian just laughed.

"You're welcome."