Vivian tugged absently at the hem of her plain T-shirt, glancing down to make sure her slacks weren’t wrinkled or stained. She’d chosen the outfit with stubborn intent, determinedly casual: a stark reminder to both of them that this was anything but a date. Her hair was gathered hastily into a messy ponytail, intentionally neglectful, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

  Yet, as she waited outside her dormitory, Vivian couldn’t quite shake the unease twisting through her stomach. She straightened when she saw Noah approach, his stride relaxed and confident. He was dressed simply in a dark T-shirt and jeans, glasses perched comfortably on his nose. His face wore an easy smile, familiar from the countless times she’d seen it in class debates. If anyone else saw him now, they would never suspect the darkness lurking beneath.

  Noah slowed as he approached, pausing just long enough for his eyes to sweep over her outfit. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he adjusted his glasses, his expression open, disarmingly natural.

  “You didn’t have to dress up for me, Viv,” he said lightly, voice pleasant, almost warm. There was a subtle weight on those last two words, “for me,” as if he were sharing a secret joke. His smile softened slightly, becoming more intimate, unsettlingly intrusive. “I prefer it like this anyway.”

  Vivian felt her spine stiffen involuntarily, muscles tightening defensively as his words registered. Noah’s eyes were too sharp behind his lenses, catching every flicker of discomfort she tried desperately to conceal.

  “After all,” he continued quietly, almost as if he was speaking to himself, “the less you try, the more it feels like I’m the only one who sees what’s underneath.”

  She jerked her head up sharply, eyes blazing, anger burning hot and fast in her chest. Questions spiraled rapidly through her mind: how closely had he been watching her? Had he left something in her dorm room—a hidden camera? Something that allowed him to glimpse parts of her he had no business seeing?

  Her reaction was immediate and fierce, bringing a genuine, disarming laugh from Noah. It was a warm, human sound, completely contradictory to what Vivian knew about him now.

  “Relax, Viv,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. “I’m just messing with you. You make it too easy.” He tilted his head toward the street behind them. “My car’s parked around the corner. Let’s go.”

  He started walking, leaving Vivian standing briefly frozen in place, pulse still racing with indignation and unease. She swallowed, glaring at his retreating figure before reluctantly moving to follow.

  Vivian walked alongside Noah in tense silence, her eyes subtly scanning their surroundings. She wondered briefly if Lucas was somewhere nearby, hidden from view but watching every step she took. The thought was simultaneously comforting and unsettling. She tried not to dwell on it, forcing herself to maintain composure despite Noah's quiet, watchful presence.

  When they rounded the corner, Noah gestured toward his car—a dark gray Honda Accord, meticulously clean but entirely unremarkable. He opened the passenger door for her with exaggerated courtesy, flashing a wink that made her fingers curl into fists at her sides. Vivian hesitated only for a fraction of a second, forcing down the urge to slap him and instead slid wordlessly into the passenger seat.

  As he closed the door and circled to the driver's side, Vivian took in the car’s stark interior. The seats were dark leather, worn but immaculate. There were no personal touches inside—no air fresheners, no clutter, not even loose change. It felt more like a rental car. It was as if Noah never allowed the space to become his, never permitted anything to leave a trace of his presence behind.

  Noah started the engine, and the car moved smoothly into traffic, the low hum filling the silence. He drove in a careful, deliberate manner, eyes fixed ahead, calm and focused. Vivian watched him discreetly, noting how effortlessly he handled the vehicle, how he seemed utterly in control, unaffected by her presence. Soft instrumental music played quietly in the background, barely audible yet somehow reinforcing the sterile silence between them.

  When they finally arrived at his building, Noah pulled into the underground car park. He parked without comment and turned off the engine, the silence between them growing heavier. Vivian stepped out quickly, eager to escape the confined space, her gaze flicking around the shadowed parking lot.

  Noah walked ahead to the elevator, pressing the button with casual familiarity. Vivian joined him silently, her pulse quickening as the doors slid shut, closing them into the cramped, enclosed space together. He glanced at her briefly, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, eyes darkening subtly behind his glasses.

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  "You know," Noah said softly, his voice dangerously smooth, "it's funny how elevators always make me wonder just how much I could do before the doors open again." He tilted his head, regarding her with a quiet intensity, his expression dark beneath the faint smile. "How long do you think it would take before you'd stop fighting me?"

  Vivian went rigid, her fingers tightening involuntarily at her sides. She met his gaze with a fierce, defiant glare, her heart hammering painfully against her ribs. Noah's lips twitched, amusement flickering briefly across his features.

  "Relax," he said with an easy chuckle, the tension dissolving into unsettling warmth. "I'm kidding. Probably."

  The elevator opened with a quiet ding onto a carpeted hallway, muted and impersonal, echoing the sterile nature of the car and the drive. Noah led her down the corridor to his studio apartment, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let her enter first.

  Vivian paused in the doorway, her eyes adjusting to the carefully organized space before her. Everything was precise, controlled—dark hardwood floors, minimalist gray walls, a neatly made bed positioned near wide windows. A sleek, black leather couch sat opposite a television he clearly seldom used, the remote placed with near-surgical precision on the glass coffee table. The kitchen area was compact but immaculately clean, featuring neatly labeled jars and a pristine espresso machine. There was no clutter, no warmth, no evidence that someone actually lived here beyond the bare essentials. Even the books lining the single shelf appeared unread, carefully arranged more for display than use.

  She stepped further into the room, feeling an unexpected sense of intrusion despite his invitation. Noah closed the door softly behind them, and Vivian felt her breath catch slightly, her awareness of him sharpening. The apartment matched Noah's personality perfectly—deliberate, calculated, and unsettlingly empty.

  "Make yourself at home," he said quietly, voice tinged with subtle irony as if he already knew how impossible that was.

  Vivian met his gaze steadily, refusing to let him see her unease, determined not to give him the satisfaction. Whatever game Noah thought he was playing, she would play along—for now. She had her own agenda, her own reasons for stepping willingly into his carefully controlled world.

  And she would not forget them.

  “Make yourself at home,” he said quietly, voice tinged with subtle irony as if he already knew how impossible that was.

  Vivian met his gaze steadily, refusing to let him see her unease, determined not to give him the satisfaction. Whatever game Noah thought he was playing, she would play along—for now. She had her own agenda, her own reasons for stepping willingly into his carefully controlled world.

  Noah motioned casually toward the black leather couch as he turned toward the kitchen, and Vivian moved stiffly to sit down. The couch felt cold and impersonal beneath her, its sleek leather surface more rigid than inviting, amplifying the sterile silence of the room. The proximity of Noah’s neatly made bed was unsettling, looming close enough to feel intimate in a way that made her pulse quicken uncomfortably. She tried not to glance at it, tried to focus instead on the stark, meticulously arranged space around her, but her mind betrayed her, replaying the teasing, innuendo-laden joke he'd whispered in the elevator. Her cheeks heated involuntarily as she swallowed, her throat tightening with nerves she refused to acknowledge.

  Noah returned swiftly, a glass of water in hand. He extended it toward her without comment, the brief contact of his fingers against hers sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. Vivian accepted the glass carefully, her grip tighter than necessary as she brought it to her lips, taking a slow sip to steady herself. Meanwhile, Noah moved fluidly to the bedside table, sliding open a drawer with familiarity and control. Her eyes tracked his movements cautiously, wary yet desperate to see the phone she had come for.

  He retrieved it calmly—a small, innocuous device that held answers she needed, and he knew it. Noah turned slowly back to face her, his gaze dark and inscrutable behind the thin frames of his glasses. She felt a sudden surge of vulnerability under his scrutiny, but refused to let it show, meeting his stare with all the defiance she could muster.

  Crossing the short distance between them, he settled onto the couch beside her, intentionally too close, his thigh brushing against hers in an almost possessive gesture. Vivian’s spine stiffened, nerves sparking from the point of contact, hyper-aware of the heat radiating from his body, the faint, clean scent of soap mixed subtly with something deeper, earthier.

  Without warning, Noah leaned forward until their faces were mere inches apart, so close their noses brushed lightly. Vivian’s breath caught involuntarily, heart pounding painfully against her ribs, though she remained perfectly still, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of flinching. His eyes flicked down momentarily, a slow smirk spreading across his lips—one part amusement, two parts dark pleasure—as if savoring her forced composure.

  Then, with slow, deliberate ease, he dropped the phone into her lap, the sudden weight startling her despite herself. He did not retreat, holding his position so close that his quiet breath ghosted over her skin, every word a subtle caress.

  “Here you go, Viv,” he murmured softly, voice low and intimate. “Everything you’ve been waiting for.”

  Vivian fought to keep her breathing steady, her fingers clenching the phone tightly enough to turn her knuckles white. Noah remained immovable, savoring the charged silence between them, his expression a challenge, daring her to move first, daring her to break the fragile stalemate of tension that stretched taut and dangerous between them.