The first day of school. Most people would call it exciting. I called it another Monday. My alarm rang at exactly 6:30 a.m. I reached over, silenced it, and climbed out of bed with a quiet sigh. Sunlight spilled through the curtains as I pulled on my school uniform, smoothing out the wrinkles before looking in the mirror. My long, jet-black hair fell perfectly straight, reaching all the way to my waist. A thin scar crossed my left eye, while a smaller one rested near the corner of my lip. They weren’t something I tried to hide anymore. They were simply part of me. After brushing my hair, I headed downstairs. “Morning,” my mom greeted with a smile as she placed breakfast on the table. “Dad.” “Morning, sweetheart,” he replied over his newspaper. Breakfast was the same as always—toast, eggs, and tea. Quiet. Comfortable. Once I finished eating, I grabbed my school bag. “I’m leaving.” “Have a good first day!” Mom called. “Stay safe,” Dad added. “I will.” I slipped on my shoes, closed the front door behind me, and started the familiar walk toward school. The streets buzzed with students chatting excitedly about the new semester. When I reached the school gates, something made me stop. Someone was standing there. A tall man dressed in black stood beside the entrance with perfect posture, his hands resting behind his back as students passed without earning so much as a glance from him. Then his eyes met mine. For a single moment, the world around me seemed to disappear. His jawline was sharp enough to carve stone, every feature of his face impossibly refined. Long black hair fell neatly past his shoulders, framing skin so pale it almost seemed untouched by the sun. A pair of thin glasses rested perfectly on the bridge of his nose, giving him an air of quiet sophistication despite the intimidating aura surrounding him. But it was his eyes that held me. An unusual mixture of crimson, amber, and burnt orange stared back at me with unsettling calm. They weren’t cold. They were unreadable. The kind of eyes that made you feel as though he could see through every lie, every secret, every fear hidden beneath your expression. He didn’t smile. He didn’t frown. He simply watched. For a brief second, neither of us looked away. I was the first to break eye contact. “…Weird.” I muttered the word under my breath before walking past him and into the school. He said nothing. Not because he couldn’t. Because he had no reason to. He never wasted words, and he never spoke unless someone addressed him with the respect he believed was due. but what she didn’t knew that man was a vampire