Antonio's POV
It all began with a story—one my mother told as if it were folklore. She spoke of a young girl she'd once treated in a quiet town years ago. A girl who came in with a scraped knee but left a lasting impression not because of her injury, but because of the way she clutched a sketchbook as if it were her soul. "She was something else, Antonio," my mom had said. "Eyes full of wonder, hands full of dreams. She'll grow into someone unforgettable." I never forgot those words.
So when I came across her name on a class list my cousin accidentally showed me—Selene—I paused. And days later, when I saw her on the street, exactly like my mother had described, sketchbook peeking out of her bag, head full of clouds and thoughts, I knew it was her. I was on my way to enroll in a completely different school, but something in me shifted. I couldn't let this be just another moment. I needed to speak to her. To meet her. So, I… planned it.
The dogs weren't strays. They were harmless, owned by a friend of mine who owed me a favor. I asked him to walk them near her path at the exact time. I made sure they'd bark—not bite, never bite—but just enough to startle her, to create a reason for me to run in, to rescue the girl I'd been curious about for far too long. When she looked at me, breathless and flushed, thanking me with those eyes—my heart did something it hadn't done before. And from there, it was easier than I imagined. She opened up. We talked about dreams, art, fashion, and life. We laughed. She introduced her friend to me. And by the end, we exchanged numbers.
She doesn't know this yet. That our first meeting wasn't fate—it was me, hopelessly captivated by her aura before I even truly knew her. I planned it all, but not to manipulate her. I just needed a chance. A moment to be near the girl my mother couldn't forget, and neither could I.
Atasha's POV ...
It had been days since that chaotic dog incident, yet it replayed in my head with perfect clarity. The timing… the way Antonio had appeared like some prince from an offbeat fairytale—it felt too perfect. Too cinematic. I didn't question it then, swept up in the gratitude and butterflies fluttering in my chest. But now, the puzzle pieces were trying to fit themselves into a clearer picture.
I couldn't ignore how composed he had been that day—not even a flinch. Most people would panic or at least act surprised, but not Antonio. He had walked straight into the situation like he had rehearsed it. And the way he asked questions about me—my sketchbook, my school, my favorite places in the town—he already seemed to know more than a stranger should.
I brushed off the thoughts, but doubt lingered in the back of my mind like a whisper in a quiet room. I stared at my phone where our conversation thread lit up. He was so charming, so attentive, it made my heart flutter—but there was a shadow behind it all. Something told me there was more to that meeting than he let on. Still, I didn't ask. I couldn't. Because a part of me was afraid of what the truth might be.