CHAPTER 13: WARM, MAGNETIC.

"Luca..."

His name barely left my lips, yet it felt heavier than any sentence I’d spoken all day.

He was so close. Too close.

I could feel the heat of his breath against my cheek, and the way it tangled with mine made my chest tighten in the strangest way. It wasn’t just how near he was, it was him. Luca.

That pull. That intense, untamed energy that always burned in the space between us whenever he stared at me.

It felt dangerous.

And it made me afraid in a way that made me feel like if I let him in just an inch more, I’d lose parts of myself to him.

Why did he always look at me like that? Like he could see past my thoughts and straight into the hollow places I kept hidden from everyone.

He stood there like he was made to look at me only, and somehow I was the only thing he couldn’t unsee.

And the worst part? I didn’t want him to look away.

I hated how much I liked the way he saw me.

And his paintings.

God, I loved them.

I wanted to step inside the canvas and curl into the stories he’d painted. To understand what each one meant to him. To ask how long he’d been carrying these wolves in his mind before he let them out.

I wondered if anyone else had seen this part of him before.

Probably not. He said it was his hideout.

Yet he brought me here. Me.

There was something wild about the way he painted, like his soul couldn’t bear to stay quiet, so it screamed onto canvas instead.

I’d never seen anything like it. The wolves, the sky, the way he made the moon bleed in the night, capturing everything in the strokes of his brushes... it was haunting and intimate and beautiful in a way I didn’t have words for.

It was like every stroke carried a secret he’d never spoken out loud. But I saw it. I felt it. The longing, the rage, the loneliness. The hope buried beneath it all.

He’d painted pain like he knew it intimately.

Maybe we weren’t so different after all.

I wanted to ask him about every piece, why the eyes of that wolf were glassy with grief, or why the cliff beneath the alpha crumbled like it couldn’t hold him anymore. I wanted to understand how he made the forest look like it was breathing.

I wanted to know him, and that terrified me.

Because I knew deep down, this wasn’t some teenage crush. This wasn’t just admiration or curiosity. This was something that could change everything for us.

My heart beat faster the longer I stood in front of him.

Not because he was beautiful, though he was, but because he made me feel something that wasn’t numbness. Since the past month, finally, I didn’t feel like I was just floating through my days pretending to be fine.

I felt seen.

My fingers itched to reach for his hand. To touch something, anything, to ground myself.

But I stayed still.

Held in place by his eyes and that low, humming silence between us.

What was he waiting for?

What was I?

I wanted to step away and yet move closer all at once.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

He unsettled me.

How was that possible?

He’s just a boy, Bella.

But he didn’t feel like just a boy.

Maybe that’s what scared me the most.

Not that he was dangerous.

But that I wanted to know why he had such an effect on me.

I was still locked in place when I felt him move closer again, his quiet presence folding into mine like dusk swallowing sunlight.

"Your eyes," he murmured, and I flinched a bit. He said it like he’d been thinking about them for a while.

I tilted my head and looked at him more. He was right in front of me now. I could see deep into his eyes. His was almost the same color as mine. Just a shade or two darker.

"Sharp green," he said, as if reciting some sacred words. "Like they could slice through steel. Or read my soul if I had one."

"You’re dramatic," I whispered, though the breath caught in my throat. "You don’t have a soul?"

He shook his head. "Nope. I don’t."

A lie. A big one.

If he didn’t have a soul, then what was this magnetic ache pulling at mine? What was this silence between us that felt alive, like it had a heartbeat of its own?

I held his gaze a second longer, daring him not to look away. He didn’t.

His mouth tilted in a small, crooked smile, almost amused.

"You think I’m lying," he said softly.

"You are lying."

He let out a breath.

Then he lifted his hand slowly, slow enough that I could’ve stopped him if I wanted to. But I didn’t.

He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. His thumb grazed just below my eye, trailing down to my jawline.

I felt it everywhere. That simple touch burning through my skin like warmth blooming in the coldest part of winter. I was standing still, but it felt like I was falling. Floating.

"I’ve never seen green like yours," he said softly. "It’s... wild. Untamed. Like the forest in the best part of spring."

My heart thudded. My lips parted.

And then he leaned in.

It didn’t happen fast. It was slow and deliberate, like he was giving me every second to pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

He was close now, too close, and my back was nearly against the edge of the torn canvas. Its frayed edges rustled softly behind me like wind through dead leaves.

I should’ve stepped away. Put some space between us. Said something sharp to cut through the softness building in my chest.

But I didn’t.

His thumb traced just beneath my cheekbone. I didn’t breathe. Neither did he.

"I think your eyes are dangerous," he murmured.

And then, as if pulled by a force older than both of us, his forehead leaned into mine, gentle, reverent.

His breath brushed my lips.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered.

But I didn’t.

I didn’t say a word.

Because I’d already tipped over the edge.

So I rose the last inch.

And he met me there.

The kiss was nothing like I imagined.

His lips met mine, and the world stilled.

It wasn’t fireworks or explosions, it was deeper than that. It was a slow-burning match in a room full of oxygen. His mouth was warm and searching, patient but hungry. His hand moved to the back of my neck, anchoring me gently, while my own hands, useless and unsure, found the edges of his shirt.

Every inch of my skin was alive, singing. My mind went blank except for him. Him. Him.

His kiss told me things his mouth never said. Things like I see you. I want to know everything you’ve never told anyone. You’re not invisible to me.

I gripped his shirt more, twisting the fabric, anchoring myself to something real.

He deepened the kiss, just barely. His other hand curled around my waist, steady and sure, grounding me even as my heart turned to liquid in my chest.

And then—

Clatter.

A metal object crashed to the floor near the back shelf, and something fell over with a heavy thud. A whoosh of cold air snaked through the room, brushing past our cheeks like a warning.

Luca pulled away instantly, his breath ragged, eyes still searching mine. His thumb lingered at the corner of my mouth for a beat too long.

I blinked, catching myself, trying to remember where I was, who I was, what the hell just happened.

"What was that?" I whispered, my voice embarrassingly hoarse.

He glanced toward the shadows. "Probably something fell. This place is old."

But I shook my head, the intimacy of the moment cracked like ice beneath our feet. "We should go, Luca."

He straightened, raking a hand through his dark hair. "Yeah... yeah. You’re right. We should probably head back to our dorm rooms."

But neither of us moved for a second.

Then I stepped back, and he followed.

We pushed the door open together, and I squinted into the golden-orange light of the evening.

Dusk.

Dusk? We were only in there for about thirty minutes.

Luca pulled his phone from his back pocket. He stared at it. "It’s 6:28."

I checked mine. Same.

"When did time fly that fast?" I asked, trying to sound casual, even though my lips were still tingling from his kiss.

He didn’t answer at first. Just gave me this small, crooked smile.

"Maybe it only felt fast because we were made for each other’s company."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling like an idiot.

We started walking down the hall, side by side again, but everything felt different now, warmer and charged.

And maybe... just maybe... I didn’t mind the way it warmed me too.