Haider’s POV:

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She was clumsy at this. Awkward. Almost like she hadn’t kissed before. Her lips were stiff, her body rigid in my arms until I took control. That only spurred me on more. I felt a surge of something hot and primal and protective, an urge to teach her, to show her what it felt like to truly be kissed.

I plundered her mouth with a feverish intensity, my tongue a curious, demanding probe. And she let out sounds I never imagined woulde out of her mouth. A soft, breathless gasp, a low moan that was half- pleasure and half–surprise. The sounds were intoxicating, a song that I wanted to hear again and again.

I wanted to eat her up. My heart was beating so fast, a frantic, thunderous drum against my ribs, that I wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear it.

My mind was in such a chaotic, overwhelming fog that I didn’t even realize when she couldn’t breathe and had to push me away, her hands pressing against my chest. I pulled back, my own chest heaving, my lungs. burning. My eyes widened when I met her red–rimmed ones. For the first time, I was seeing actual emotion in her eyes. Not just annoyance, anger, or frustration. Not the cold, deadpan stare I had grown so used to. She looked like she’d been ravaged. Her lips were swollen and red, her cheeks a flushed, feverish pink, and her eyes were wide with a raw, unfiltered shock. She was out of breath, her chest rising and falling in quick, frantic motions, as if she had just run a marathon.

I pursed my lips, both of us breathing hard, the silence loud and pulsing between us. I looked down at her, she looked positively wrecked, making me want to groan, making me want to make a mess out of her even

more.

But then I noticed her hand moving down. Her fingers, slightly trembling, were a feather–light touch against my erection. I groaned. God, as much as I wanted this, as much as I wanted this so bad, I had to make her

stop.

“Stop,” I said softly, my voice a quiet, desperate plea. I grasped her hand, my fingers a firm, insistent grip on hers. She stiffened, a frown settling on her face as she looked up with a clear question in her eyes. Why?

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” I asked, the words gentle. It was a question, but it was also a statement. It was a feeling, a deep, intuitive sense I had gotten from her awkwardness, from the way she had reacted to the kiss.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know?” she questioned.

I let out a soft chuckle. “Just a feeling.” I moved forward, unable to help myself. I couldn’t resist. I had to touch her again. I rubbed her lower lip with my thumb, a gentle, soothing motion. “Was that also your first kiss?” I questioned, my voice a soft murmur. She frowned, a crease forming between her brows, as if the question was absurd.

Most people would lie. They would feel too shy, too embarrassed to admit it. But she didn’t. She was always blunt, always honest, a refreshing thing for me, in a world of pleasantries and white lies. And that’s what I seemed ito /ireally like about her. She was a breath of fresh air, a cold, icy one, but a fresh one nheless. “Yes. Was I bad?” she questioned, her voice getting serious.

I smiled, a warm, genuine smile that reached my eyes. I shook my head, my hand still on her cheek, my thumb still tracing the soft line of her lip. “No. You were great… the best.” The words were true. She was. She

b14:39 /bMonb, /bbSep /b22

was the most honest, most raw, most real person I had ever met.

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“Then what’s the issue?” she questioned, her voice sounding confused. She was still sitting on the library floor, her back against the bookshelf, and the scene was so surreal that it felt like a dream.

I huffed, trying to calm myself, trying to will my erection to go down. “Doing this at the back of the library is already too dangerous. We might get expelled if we get caught… not to mention.” I gazed at her. “You’re a virgin. You shouldn’t do this with just anyone.”

She frowned then, this time with a hint of annoyance. She pushed my hand back, an almost angry motion. “I can do whatever I want with anyone. Who are you to tell me, and it’s not like I nned to go all the way.” She paused then, a frown on her face as she looked around the quiet, empty corner of the library. She shook her head, a soft, defeated motion. “Well, you’re still right about getting caught.” She finished. It was astounding how she could shift her emotions so easily. She had gone from shock and anger to a quiet, logical eptance in a matter of seconds. It was uncanny. It was as if she were a chameleon, her emotions a carefully constructed facade.

“Are you upset with me?” I grabbed her arm as she moved to get up. I slowly pulled her up with me.

She frowned. “Why would I be?” she said, sounding bewildered.

I stiffened. Wow. That kinda hurt. Like it didn’t matter to her. “Are you like this with everyone? Or is it just with me?” I asked. It sounded stupid. I didn’t know why I asked that question. It was the question of a desperate, insecure boy. But I had to know. I had to know if this was just a weird, bizarre moment between two strangers, or if it was something more.

She fixed her hoodie which had be crooked, and also her hair, which was a disheveled mess. She looked at me, her eyes nk and unreadable. It took her a while to answer, as if she didn’t know what I meant. As if my question was in anguage she didn’t speak.

But when she finally spoke, what came out of her mouth utterly baffled me.

“I’m like this with everyone, Haider. So you should really stop looking at me with those puppy dog eyes.” She said, her lips set in a straight line. Her voice was t, emotionless.

“Puppy… dog eyes?” I couldn’t help but question. The words were bizarre, almostical. I had never been described that way before. I was a man. A confident man. I didn’t have puppy dog eyes. Did I?

She nodded. “Yes. I thought it was just my illusion before. But I noticed it today as well. The constant worried look on your facei. /iYou always look like you’re trying to please me, I’m not a good candidate if you’re looking for a fling. What I did earlier was just help you out in return for a bite.”

She turned, her back to me, and it looked like she was going to walk away, to leave me here. My heart jolted, a sudden, sharp, painful thing. A fling? She thought this was a fling to me?

I grabbed her arm, my fingers tight, desperate to hold. “Lisichka.” The word was a quiet, almost–silent plea. “Isn’t this a little prejudice of you? Just because I am good–looking and speak nicely, you think I am a yboy? How many other girls have you seen me flirt with?” I knew my voice sounded hurt, sounded bruised. I just

couldn’t mask it.

She nced back. Then she looked at my hand. “I have touch aversion.” she said, her voice t.

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?

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I pursed my lips, a cold, sharp de of guilt twisting in my stomach. I slowly let igo/i, my fingers hesitant. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I didn’t tell you.” She said, then she paused, her eyes, for a brief moment, softening with a sh of something akin to regret. “You’re right about the prejudice part. I apologize. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

At her apology, I couldn’t help but feel a little taken aback. Even my mom never apologized this quickly. My parents, as perfect as they seemed, were also stubborn as hell. There was really no room for misunderstandings with her, was there? She was as blunt as a two–by–four, and there was no gray area, no pleasantries, no little white lies. It was a frightening, exhrating thing. And it only made me want to double my efforts.

But then she continued. “However, how do you expect me not to misunderstand when you start giving me nicknames when we just met? Little fox, really?” She deadpanned, and I couldn’t help but feel heat rise up my neck from embarrassment. “You…. just reminded me of it. I’m sorry if you didn’t like me calling you that.”

She shook her head then, her eyes distant. “It’s not that I like or dislike it, Haider. That’s what I am trying to tell you. I don’t feel such emotions.” I frowned. Her words were not making any sense.

“What do you mean?” I paused. Was this a metaphor? A strange way of saying she was emotionally unavable? Why? Was it because she was a vampire and I was a human?

“I’m a psychopath.” she said, and my brows reached my forehead. “A… what?”