Avalon City

Chapter 2

A man strides in, and the air in the room seems to change, almost as if charged with danger. A towel is draped over his broad, hard-looking shoulders, revealing a body of perfection - chiseled like an ancient sculpture, revealed in its full glory. He's dressed only in black shorts, his muscles rippling as he moves. I stare at him, from his abs to his toned arms. His olive tan is dusted with a thin layer of sweat as if he has just come from a training session, and his short black hair falls messily onto his forehead.

At this moment, he seems more like a stone-cold deity than just a human — one that I'm not worthy to match. I feel so exposed; all my imperfections are laid bare as if I had nothing to cover myself up with apart from a scrap of fabric. My heart pounds harder as he enters.

I'm startled, frozen on the spot, when this stranger suddenly walks into the bathroom. It's early, and I didn't expect anyone to be here at this hour.

He turns and shuts the door behind him, but not before looking over his shoulder at me. He strides towards the shower cubicles with purpose, and only then does he notice me lingering in the corner. He stops in his tracks, and my heart skips a beat as his gaze sweeps over me from my head to my bare toes. His eyes linger on the slight curve of my legs beneath the towel, and I blush nervously as our gazes meet for a fleeting second.

He’s as surprised to see me here as I am to have him appear at this early hour of the morning, yet that doesn’t stop him from checking me out. I feel flushed under his gaze, feeling more exposed than ever before, with only a thin scrap of fabric covering me up. Finally, he averts his gaze.

"Sorry…. I didn't see you. I hope I didn't startle you," he mumbles, looking down.

Not only that, but I can't miss the sly smile spreading across his face. He's not sorry for checking me out, and I can't really accuse him of anything because I did the same when he walked in.

"No, you didn't startle me. Though I wasn't expecting anyone else to be up so early," I reply, reaching for my clothes.

"I have an early start this morning. I wanted to get in before the masses," he explains, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

It's strange; I don't recognize him from campus. He may be new. Our campus is small, and it's easy to remember faces. Yet I know I haven't seen this man before.

I pull on my hoodie and jeans, all the while feeling his gaze on me. It's intense, heating up my skin and thickening the air. I don't get it, I think to myself. Isn't he here to shower? He's still staring at me. I pull my jeans under my towel and shirt over my head before peeling the towel off. My clothes stick to my skin from not having a chance to dry myself properly.

"I have the same starting times; what's your major?" I ask, trying to change the topic.

But he doesn't answer, just smiles at me, seeming amused. It's a little unsettling, but I shrug it off.

He finally breaks the silence. "Oh, I'm not studying. I work here part time and stay on campus when I have to work."

I glance at him, and his eyes wander over me again. Suddenly, I feel like prey under his gaze. My cheeks flush with embarrassment at assuming he was a student here, yet despite making a fool of myself. There's a part of me that's drawn to him. I mentally scold myself, questioning why I'm so affected by this stranger.

As soon as he looks away, I gather my things. "It was nice to meet you," I mumble, trying to avoid his gaze. Moving toward the door, he steps into my path. I want to shrink under his gaze. There was something quite off about him. His entire aura is intense, demanding attention. I would like to move away from him, but I can’t bring myself to take a step. My mind is screaming at me to run, that he is dangerous, but my body is telling me to move closer, to run my hands over his bare chest. What the f**k is wrong with me? I mentally scold myself.

I didn’t understand how he is having so much influence over me; embarrassed, I want to run, but I couldn’t move my feet like they are glued to the floor when his intense gaze moves away from my terrified one. I come back to my senses.

He grabs my arm, stopping my departure. "I hope to see you again, Avery," he murmurs as he releases my arm. I startle at his words. I don't remember telling him my name.

Darting past him, he has a silly smirk on his face. I open the door and step into the corridor. Away from his sight, I feel more relaxed. I run back to the dorm, quickly unlocking the door and stepping into the familiar surroundings of my hallway. Dropping my keys on the hallway table, I turn to shut the door. Only it won’t close. Something has caught it.

A hand is pushing the door inward. My heart skips a beat, my hand still pressing firmly on the door. Is it the man from the showers? Did he follow me? The hand pushes again, this time harder, opening it. Taking a step back, frightened. I desperately look for something to defend myself, panic taking over. It is Becca! She walks in and almost walks straight into my frozen frame.

She notices my state and takes a step back. "You look like you've seen a ghost," she states. Yet, I am trying to calm my racing heart. "Are you okay?". I try to brush it off, but the encounter with the stranger still lingers in my mind and, for some reason, has left me rattled. Am I just overthinking, or was there something truly unsettling about him? I know I should trust my instincts, as my mother always said, and they're screaming at me that that man is dangerous.

My anxiety blows everything out of proportion, but being an empath, I can't help but be affected by his energy.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just wasn’t expecting anyone to open the door as I closed it,” I laugh nervously while shaking my head. Becca walks past me and into the room across from mine. Laying on the bed, she places her hands behind her head. I follow, standing in Becca’s door frame.

“Well, my classes don’t start till ten. Can you wake me when you leave?” she asks, knowing my classes always start earlier than hers.

“Sure,” I reply before walking back to my room and stripping my clothes off to get dressed properly. I didn’t put my bra and panties on before I ran out of the amenities.

Throwing my clothes on the bed and standing in my room naked. I quickly find my underwear and bra that were rolled in the towel and put them on. It is only just past 630 am. I still had plenty of time before my chemistry class at 8: 30, so I decide to make myself a cup of coffee and look over my notes.

However, while standing in the kitchen. I can't shake the feeling of his gaze lingering on me. I give myself a mental shake, chiding myself for entertaining such ridiculous, disproportionate thoughts.

I find my underwear, cunningly concealed within the towel, and quickly pull them on. The clock shows it's just past six; my chemistry class doesn't start until eight, giving me plenty of time to make some coffee and review my notes.

Our dorm kitchen, while small, is certainly appreciated. Becca and I are fortunate to have more than a single room, as is common for most students. Instead, we have a comfortable apartment-style dorm with a sitting room, separate bedrooms, a kitchen, and a toilet. We may not have a shower, but at least we're not sprinting for the bathroom every time nature calls.

My parents, who were thrilled about my acceptance into the university, generously footed the extra bill for this upgraded living arrangement. My mother, an apothecary shop owner serving the local witch community, and my father, an orthodontist with his own practice near campus, were adamant about me having a complete university experience.

As a witch myself, I wouldn't have minded staying at home, especially since the campus is only a twenty-minute drive. Yet, they wanted to give me space and independence before my life will drastically change on my twenty-first birthday. That's when my elemental powers will fully manifest, and I will officially join our family's Coven, the Faewood Coven.

Becca has been my best friend since we were seven years old. Our families are next-door neighbors, and our bond grew inseparable over the years. Despite the significant difference between us—she's human, I'm a witch—our families treat us like sisters.

With a hot cup of coffee in hand, I settle onto the sofa to tackle my notes, a smile forming as I recall our shared memories. I'm focusing on the task at hand—reminders of holiday assignments and deadlines. With the two-week break starting the day after tomorrow, everyone, including me, is eager for some rest.

I miss my parents and plan to visit them during the break, although I won't be staying. Over the past two years, living independently with Becca, I've learned to cherish my privacy. They said this independence would bolster my mental health, and they were right.

Initially, the thought of moving out was daunting, but now, I know it was the best decision for me.