It was late at night when Noah hurriedly ushered Vivian through the front door of her dorm building. His eyes flickered rapidly, scanning the shadows around them, his grip firm as he pulled Vivian tightly against him.

  “Aren’t you overacting a little?” Vivian hissed quietly.

  “Maybe you’re underacting,” Noah murmured back, his voice low, teasing. “You should let me kiss you here up against this wall. It’s what a normal person would do.”

  Vivian rolled her eyes. “It’s concerning that someone studying math doesn’t understand the meaning of ‘normal’,” she muttered dryly, gently extracting herself from his hold and leading the way to her dorm room.

  Inside, Vivian immediately began packing, carefully sorting clothes into two separate bags—one containing essentials for their actual disappearance, the other a decoy. Noah crossed the small space to the window, deliberately pulling aside the curtain to peer cautiously outside. He lingered there for a few deliberate moments, eyes scanning the darkness, before turning back toward her.

  His gaze fell on a framed photograph sitting on Vivian’s bedside table. “Are you taking this?” he asked quietly.

  Vivian paused, looking up from her packing to consider the photograph thoughtfully. Her parents' smiling faces stared back at her, frozen in a happier past. After a moment, she shook her head slowly. “No,” she said softly. The people smiling in that picture wouldn’t recognize the person she was becoming; she didn't want them to see.

  When she finished packing, they stepped out into the quiet hallway together. Vivian paused at the threshold, her eyes sweeping slowly across the familiar corridor. It felt like she was taking a snapshot in her mind, holding onto something that had always seemed ordinary but was now suddenly precious. A subtle ache settled in her chest as the realization fully hit her: after tonight, this ordinary life she had imagined for herself was over. Noah watched her quietly, sensing the quiet shift in her. After a beat, Vivian sighed softly, squared her shoulders, and moved forward.

  They left without another word.

  Sliding into Noah’s car, Vivian’s voice was quiet yet steady as she asked, “Do you think they saw us?”

  Noah didn’t hesitate. “I’m sure they did.”

  Vivian nodded slowly, accepting it.

  Noah’s expression shifted, a playful edge surfacing suddenly. “Important question.”

  Vivian looked over at him expectantly.

  “Dinner?” he asked lightly. “Taiwan beef noodles?”

  Vivian couldn’t help but laugh, the sound surprisingly genuine amidst the tension. “You are obsessed with noodles! That’s all you have in your apartment.”

  “I’m just a simple man, Viv,” Noah grinned easily.

  Over the next two days, Noah focused entirely on preparations for their disappearance, meticulously arranging new identities. Vivian remembered the moment vividly—stepping into a nondescript public library, the musty scent of books heavy in the quiet air. They had navigated toward the back, hidden by tall, packed shelves, where a portly man with thinning brown hair and glasses sat at a corner desk reading. Noah had left Vivian by the nearest shelf, silently instructing her to stay still with a glance. She watched carefully as Noah passed behind the man, smoothly dropping a glasses case stuffed with cash onto the desk and retrieving an identical one lying there. The man never even lifted his eyes from his book. It was seamless, practiced, and swift. Moments later, Noah returned casually, took Vivian by the arm, and led her away without breaking stride.

  Now, on the night before their planned exit, Vivian sat quietly by the window in Noah’s apartment, gazing out at the starless, ink-black sky. She knew the men from Red Phoenix were watching, but that was exactly the point. There was no reason to hide. Tonight, she just wanted a moment beneath the open sky.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Her thoughts drifted to the only two people she genuinely cared about: Vince, gone forever, and Serena, missing. The rest—acquaintances, classmates—had never truly mattered to her. Vivian had never been good with people, not like Serena. Numbers were her strength, and the number of people she loved now stood at exactly one. Serena Lau, missing.

  Tomorrow, Vivian Jiang would officially die. The realization settled heavy and final within her. No one else would care or notice, except perhaps Lucas—and even that would likely be minimal. She felt a brief stab of guilt at not informing Lucas, but justified it by telling herself that freeing him from the responsibility of protecting her might speed up his search for Serena.

  Her gaze shifted down to her bandaged hand. The stitches would need removing soon, but she had no doubt Noah had already accounted for it. The memory of confronting Mochi surged back vividly—the cold clarity she’d felt as she plunged the knife into Mochi’s thigh, how right it had felt, how simple.

  “This can’t be normal,” she murmured quietly to herself, sipping her tea. Maybe it was still shock from Vince’s murder. And Vince’s killer’s murder, Jay Lin.

  Vivian’s eyes hardened at the memory: the blood on the hammer, splattered across the walls, the furniture, pooling beneath Jay Lin’s lifeless body. She couldn’t recall the precise moment she’d killed him, only that same cold certainty from the night she’d confronted Mochi.

  Her reflection stared hollowly back from the glass—thin, pale, eyes wide and haunted, scratches faintly marking her cheeks, a faint yellow bruise the last trace of Sammy’s blow. It felt unsettling to barely recognize herself and yet know with absolute certainty that this was who she was becoming.

  “Scared?” Noah’s quiet voice broke gently through her thoughts.

  Vivian tilted her head, catching a glimpse of Noah behind her. He leaned against the wall, his grey singlet and slacks draping over a lean, athletic frame. Damp dark hair clung to his forehead, and his eyes rested on her, gaze steady.

  Vivian shook her head slowly. “No, not really. Is that weird?”

  Noah approached silently, coming to stand just behind her. Carefully, he circled his arms around her waist, pulling her close until his head rested gently in the curve of her shoulder and neck.

  Vivian felt the immediate warmth radiating from his body, her senses filled with the clean scent of soap, shampoo, and something distinctly Noah. His presence felt grounding yet dangerously comforting, and she tensed slightly, startled by her own reluctant response to him.

  “For the audience we have, my doting girlfriend,” Noah explained softly, his lips grazing lightly against her neck.

  Vivian forced herself not to inhale sharply as his breath ghosted across her skin, sending a sharp, heated shiver down her spine. Her stomach clenched, warmth pooling uncomfortably, yet she kept her breathing steady, determined not to give herself away.

  Noah let his nose trace a slow, deliberate line down her neck, smiling slightly against her skin when he felt her instinctively lean into the touch before quickly regaining herself. Vivian felt a flush rise from her neck to her face, her jaw tightening slightly as she resisted the urge to push him away.

  “I don’t think it’s abnormal,” Noah murmured against her skin, amused. “But as you know, my idea of normal is a bit fucked up.”

  Vivian forced a falsely sweet smile as she turned to face him, carefully stepping out of his arms and away from the window, before letting the smile fall away. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

  Noah retreated and sank into the couch, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “Viv,” he murmured, “if I were really enjoying myself, I’d tie you to that bed and explore every inch of you—slowly—until you’re trembling too hard to pretend you don’t want it.”

  Before she could stop herself, Vivian’s mind spiraled into the scene: ropes biting into her wrists, Noah’s lips tracing a slow line down her throat —she forced herself to stop. He had been baiting her for the last few days, watching her squirm every time he said something dark or inappropriate. That didn’t surprise her, he had been the same ever since he let his mask of the perfect student fall away the night Vince was murdered. What surprised her, though, was how it was starting to get under her skin.

  Vivian forced herself to be calm, topping up her tea from the hot water dispenser, the cup steady in her hands. Deliberately, she shifted her thoughts to the plan.

  “You think tomorrow will work?” she asked quietly.

  “Probably.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Then we die together. Still want to do it?” His tone was casual, as if they were making plans for brunch, masking his own uncertainty about where she stood in all of this.

  Vivian met his gaze directly. Noah felt his stomach twist, a dark thrill curling through him as he recognized the chilling look in her eyes from the night Vince had died, from the night Sammy had attacked her, from when she’d stabbed Mochi: cold, certain, deadly.

  “Yes,” she said softly, and to Noah, it sounded like the sweetest promise.