Chapter 11: Definitely Not Curious About Him
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This was starting to feel like a freaking experiment, like someone was watching to see how long we could both pretend to be alone in this dorm.
To act like the other didn’t even exist.
On one side, Damien remained where he’d been since he sat down at his desk, sitting straight with unwavering focus, the only sign of time passing being the soft sound of pages turning.
On the other side, I was still unpacking what remained of my life into a space that didn’t yet feel like mine. I moved carefully, making sure not to cross any sudden invisible boundaries that might provoke another terse command from Mr. Stick Up His Ass over there.
I kept telling myself I wasn’t paying attention to him.
But I couldn’t help it.
Not openly, of course, but in those small, unintentional glances that sneak out between movements and breaths, as if my mind needed to ensure he was still there. It was like a part of me hadn’t accepted that this was real and needed to see it again.
His shoulders didn’t relax, his posture never shifted, and he didn’t break his concentration for even a second, as if he resided in a different version of time, one that didn’t allow for distraction or fatigue.
It was off-putting in a way I couldn’t quite articulate. Logically, there was nothing wrong with it, nothing that could be pinpointed as abnormal, but still, it felt... off.
It seemed like he’d meticulously crafted how he existed in this space and fully committed to it...down to the angle of his spine and the stillness of his hands.
I folded the last of my clothes and put them aside, resting my hands briefly against the edge of my bed as I exhaled softly, my eyes drifting toward him before I could stop them.
He looked just as he had ten minutes ago.
Probably just as he had an hour ago.
There was something intense about him, something lurking just beneath the surface that felt constant and unyielding. He seemed like the kind of person who didn’t just think, but overthought; who didn’t simply work, but pushed himself beyond the limits others recognized.
He was probably the type to treat exhaustion like it was merely a suggestion, ignoring it as he carried on.
Who studies like this on the first week of the semester?
Definitely not me, and I was a goddamn, self proclaimed genius thank you very much.
The thought crept in easily, settling in my mind with a mix of disbelief and an unwanted curiosity I didn’t want to entertain. I wasn’t interested in being curious about him...it felt like a misstep to let my thoughts wander in that direction.
Because it wasn’t just that he was studying.
It was how he was doing it.
As if nothing else mattered. Like the rest of the room, including me, had simply faded away the moment he opened that book. It felt like total absorption was something he could switch on and leave running indefinitely without it costing him anything.
I looked away again, shaking my head slightly as I sat on the edge of my bed, allowing the quiet to wrap around me this time.
Maybe that’s how people like him lived. Structured, disciplined, unnecessarily intense and definitely wealthy.
Definitely accustomed to getting what they desired without needing to explain themselves to anyone, because no one had ever made them do so.
I sighed quietly through my nose, leaning back slightly and stretching out my legs. My body was finally starting to recognize just how exhausted I really was. The kind of exhaustion that had slowly built throughout the day and was now settling in behind my eyes and into my shoulders—as though it had been waiting for permission to be acknowledged.
Time moved slowly after that.
At some point, I stopped pretending I wasn’t tired. There was no reason to put on a show of alertness for someone who wasn’t even looking at me.
And I probably shouldn’t be so interested and curious in someone who didn’t give two shits about me or people like me.
I lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment, tracing the faint patterns of light and shadow that flickered there before turning slightly onto my side, letting my gaze wander across the room without thinking.
Whether he was actually human or not wasn’t my concern. He’d made that abundantly clear with a single printed sheet of paper.
Reality had a way of pulling me back, whether I wanted it to or not.
My mind drifted, not to him...but to everything else, to the hospital.
And to the bills waiting to be paid, the ones I kept in a folder on my phone because viewing numbers on a screen felt less permanent than seeing them printed on paper. Somehow, it made them seem more manageable, even when they weren’t.
To the message I had seen earlier that I hadn’t dealt with yet. It settled in the back of my mind, steady and unavoidable, like a weight I’d learned to carry without much thought during the day. Yet here, in the stillness, with nothing else to distract me, it became sharper and harder to ignore.
My dad.
He was the reason I worked so much, picked up every extra shift I could, smiled through exhaustion because tired didn’t get to be an excuse when someone else depended on you to keep going.
The reason I couldn’t afford to let anything slide, the reason I didn’t get to just... exist like this.
I would rather die than to lose another family member, rather die of exhaustion than be alone.
I looked around the room again, taking in the polished surfaces, the expensive furniture...all the quiet comfort of a place that didn’t seem constantly on the brink of falling apart. Everything here looked like it had been carefully curated, not settled for. As if money wasn’t a consideration because it didn’t have to be.
This was stability.