Mikhail’s POV

I shouldn’t have saved her.

That thought haunted me the whole night. My hands were still sore from throwing Andre into the wall. My chest still burned from the way her eyes widened when she saw me. Elara.

She wasn’t supposed to know. She wasn’t supposed to see.

I leaned against my desk, staring at the sheets of music scattered around. Notes written in ink, notes written in blood. All of them hers. I hated it. I hated how every melody turned into her voice, her laugh, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the halls.

She was ruining me. And yet, I couldn’t stay away.

The next morning, she cornered me.

“Mikhail,” she said, breathless, her eyes wide. “It was you, wasn’t it? Last night. You—”

I cut her off before she could finish. My voice came out sharp, cold. “You’re imagining things. Stay out of trouble.”

Her face fell, but she didn’t back down. That was the problem with her. Elara never backed down.

“Why do you always do that?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Push me away like you don’t care—when I know you do.”

I clenched my fists. If she knew how close to the truth she was, she would run. She would hate me.

“Because you don’t understand,” I snapped. “And you never will.”

I walked away, but her voice followed me down the hall, heavy, breaking something inside me.

Pearl was worse that day. I watched her from across the room, the way her eyes darted to her phone, the way her lips curved whenever a new Gossip Girl post appeared. She thought no one noticed. But I did.

Elara didn’t deserve it. And Pearl—her so-called friend—was feeding the fire.

I should’ve told her. I should’ve warned her. But I didn’t. I stayed silent. Because once I started protecting her openly, there would be no turning back.

And I couldn’t afford to care that much.

Damien was different too. I noticed the way he hovered around her, his eyes too sharp, too controlling. He acted like a guardian, but there was something else behind it. Something darker.

“You’re reckless,” he told her after class, his voice like iron. “One mistake and you’ll ruin everything.”

I wanted to rip him away from her, but I stood still. My jaw ached from clenching. Elara lowered her head, but her hands trembled at her sides. She hated the way he spoke to her. I knew it.

Then there was Noah. Always smiling, always warm. I caught him with her in the courtyard, his hand brushing hers, his voice soft. She laughed, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

The sight twisted something deep inside me. Rage. Fear. Longing. I hated all of it.

I left before she could see me watching.

That night, I worked on my music. I thought being alone would quiet the storm inside me. It didn’t. The more I tried to shut her out, the more her face came back. Her hands on the keys. Her voice saying my name. The way she had looked at me when I saved her.

I didn’t notice the door open until it was too late.

She stepped into my room, eyes scanning the scattered sheets. Her fingers brushed the piano, touching the notes I had written.

“You write about me,” she whispered.

Her voice wasn’t accusing. It was soft. Almost broken.

I stood too fast, grabbing the sheets from her hands. “Get out.”

“No,” she said, her eyes locking onto mine. “Not until you tell me the truth.”

I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to shove her out. But the words caught in my throat.

“You don’t understand,” I finally said, my voice cracking in a way I hated. “You don’t know what it’s like to live with nothing. To fight every day just to breathe. To be—” I stopped, biting my tongue. Too much. I had said too much.

Her face softened. “Mikhail…”

Something inside me snapped. I slammed the sheets onto the piano, the sound echoing through the room. “Get out!”

Her eyes filled with tears. She flinched but didn’t move. That hurt more than anything. She should’ve left. She should’ve hated me. But instead, she stood there, trembling, refusing to break.

I turned away, because if I looked at her one more second, I would fall apart.

Later, when the halls were empty, I walked outside. The night air was sharp, biting at my skin. I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes.

She was going to destroy me.

I had built my life on walls, on silence, on control. And then she came, with her fire and her pain, burning through everything I had tried to bury.

I hated her for it. And yet, I knew I would burn with her if it meant she kept standing.

Word spread fast about Andre and his friends. Rumors said they were beaten, bones cracked, bodies left bloody in the dark. Everyone whispered. No one knew who did it.

But I saw the way Elara looked at me. The suspicion in her eyes. The fear.

She was right. And she was wrong.

I did it for her. But I also did it for myself. Because no one would ever hurt her like that again. Not while I was still breathing.

She tried to thank me once more the next day. I cut her off again. I told her I wanted nothing to do with her.

But her eyes told me she didn’t believe me anymore.

And that was what scared me most.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I walked through the halls, my footsteps silent, my thoughts louder than ever.

When I reached the practice room, I froze.

The light was on. The door cracked.

And inside, Elara sat at the piano, her fingers trembling over the keys.

She was crying.

Not loudly. Not broken. Just soft, quiet tears sliding down her face as she played a melody I didn’t recognize.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t polished. But it was raw. Honest. Hers.

I should have left.

Instead, I stood in the shadows, listening. My chest tightened with every note, with every tear.

I realized then what I had known all along.

She wasn’t just breaking me.

She was becoming the only thing holding me together.

I turned away, forcing myself to leave before she saw me.

But as I stepped into the dark, I caught movement at the end of the hall.

A figure watching her too. Not me. Not Noah. Not Damien.

Someone else.

Their eyes glinted in the dark, full of something I didn’t like.

I froze, every muscle tensing.

Elara wasn’t alone.

And neither was I.