Merlina's POV
I watched Craig, his hand gripping the drink like it might be the only thing holding him together.
He was all tight muscles and tension, not quite meeting my eyes as he took a sip—fast, almost frantic, like he was trying to drown something with the alcohol.
"I already got one," he muttered, his voice distant, distracted, as if it hadn't fully processed what I said.
I reached into my purse without thinking. "Oh. Okay… Can I at least cover the cost? I'm sorry you had to go through all that trouble."
I stretched my hand out, holding the cash. But the look on Craig's face stopped me—confusion first, then something sharper, like he was silently asking, Do you know who the hell I am?
There was a hint of arrogance in his eyes, that made me wonder if I overstepped some invisible line.
"Keep it," he snapped, his tone sharp. "You need it more than I do."
The words hit harder than I expected, and I felt something twist in my chest.
I could feel the sting in his voice, and even though I wasn't sure if it was meant as an insult or just in bad taste, it still landed. I forced a smile, but it didn't feel right. The silence stretched out between us, uncomfortable and thick.
Across the bar, Keith and Phoebe were still deep in conversation, oblivious to the tension curling around the table. But Megan, of course, picked up on it immediately. She smiled sweetly, as if it were any other night.
"I think I'll meet up with my brother," she said, already reaching for her purse. "See you guys later."
Keith stood up too, holding Phoebe's hand with that familiar grin. "We'll be back in a minute," he said.
Phoebe caught my gaze, a soft, reassuring look that said hang in there.
"Don't leave," She said, even though it felt like the one thing I should be doing.
I watched them go, the clink of the door shutting behind them, and suddenly Craig and I were left alone in thick uncomfortable silence.
The restaurant felt quieter now, somehow emptier. Craig absently pushed food around on his plate like it personally offended him. I shifted in my seat, unsure of what to say, but the words just tumbled out anyway.
"Again, I'm sorry," I said, my voice a little softer. "You don't have to be so… angry about it."
His eyes flicked up, his face giving nothing away—but the edge in his voice? Straight-up icy.
"Who said I'm angry?" he scoffed.
I gave a little sigh, knowing I was walking a fine line here. "You're… kinda giving off the vibe," I said cautiously, raising an eyebrow. "Your face is practically screaming 'mad.' Did I do more than ripping your precious handbook?"
A dry chuckle escaped his lips—sharp, almost bitter.
"Well, what's worse than damaging the book of someone who practically made you write your test?"
The silence lingered between us again, thick with unspoken words. Craig took another long drink, hiding whatever flickered behind his eyes.
I found my gaze drifting toward the window, my mind suddenly miles away. I was caught somewhere between wanting to fix this and knowing that I couldn't.
Finally, his voice cut through the quiet, softer this time.
"It's just… I didn't expect you to be so… persistent."
I blinked, surprised by the shift in tone, and turned back toward him. "Persistent?"
His faint grin tugged at the edges of his lips, easing some of the tension from his face. "You're apologizing like you owe me the world. It's just a damn handbook."
I couldn't help but laugh—soft, surprised. The weight lifted from my shoulders just a little, but there was still that lingering awkwardness between us.
"You know what?" he said, his voice light but his eyes still sharp. "You can make it up to me."
I raised an eyebrow, playing along but a little wary. "It's not gonna cost me my life, right?"
He chuckled low and rough, and for a second, it felt like everything else faded out.
"Can't promise."
I teased back, leaning into the playful banter. "Well, anything to stop you from giving me an attitude."
Craig leaned back, eyeing me carefully, his gaze narrowing just a touch. "An attitude? You've accused me of a lot tonight, Merlina."
I raised my chin, meeting his stare head-on. "Am I wrong?"
For a heartbeat, it felt like everything around us faded, like the whole place had narrowed down to just him and me.
Keith's phone buzzed loudly on the table. I reached instinctively for it, but Craig got to it first. Our fingers brushed for a split second—too long.
My heart skipped, and I pulled my hand back quickly, cheeks warming.
Craig, once again casual, picked it up, but his shoulders seemed tighter now. "Keith. So forgetful."
"They've been gone a while," I said, eager to move on. "I should probably head back."
Craig nodded easily, standing to get the bill. "Sure."
We stepped out into the night, the warm city air a sharp contrast to the coolness of the restaurant.
Craig walked with ease, like he didn't have a care in the world. Me? I felt every set of eyes on me as we passed.
A group of students by the exit were laughing, chatting, their eyes flicking toward us. The whispers started almost immediately.
It's Craig Lesnar
Who is she?
Someone new.
I pretended not to notice, but I could feel every pair of eyes on me, like they were branding me in place. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to keep my head down, but it wasn't easy.
"Enjoying Belview?" Craig's voice broke through the discomfort, softer than before. I glanced up at him, caught off guard by the change in tone.
"It's not hell," I said, honestly.
Craig chuckled, and for the first time, there was a rare, shy smile on his face. It didn't last long, though. He looked away like he'd regretted showing it.
I couldn't resist teasing. "Oh…he smiles."
Craig shot me a quick, deep look that sent a flutter through my chest. I looked away, too quickly, staring at the sidewalk instead.
"Honestly," I said, trying to cover it up, "it's warmer than I expected. Everyone's been nice since I got here. Well, except you."
Craig raised an eyebrow, amused. "Me?"
"Yeah," I said, "You've been cold, shut off. Is that just a me thing, or are you like that with everyone?"
He shrugged lightly, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Believe it or not, I'm actually nicer to you."
"Wow," I said, laughing softly, "So Ice King mode is your version of nice?"
Craig's laugh was low—quiet, but real in a way that caught me off guard.
"Why are your walls so high?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, softer than I intended.
He didn't answer right away. His eyes drifted to somewhere far beyond me, like he was weighing the truth.
"It just helps drown out the noise," he said finally, voice low.
His answer was simple, but it made me think. I studied his face carefully, sensing how many layers he was hiding behind that tough exterior.
We wandered into a small park, the buzz of the city fading to something quieter, more peaceful.
"You've got the spotlight around here, huh?" I said, glancing back to the students who were still watching us from afar. "Felt like every pair of eyes was on me back there… pretty sure it has something to do with you."
Craig just shrugged casually. "Welcome to Belview."
"Well, if it were up to me," I said, giving him a dry smile, "I wouldn't even be here."
"Where would you rather be?" he asked, his voice almost teasing.
"NYC. With my best friend."
Craig teased me right back. "Ah. So Phoebe's not the best friend? Nice one."
He held out his hand for a playful high five, and I met it, my fingers brushing his again, lingering just a little longer than necessary before pulling away.
"What's your deal with Phoebe?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "It seems like she rubs you the wrong way."
Craig chuckled, a little amused. "She's… intense. Loud, forward. Honestly, you and her don't seem like a perfect match. You're more… reserved."
"Maybe we balance each other out," I said, smirking.
"If you say so," he said, teasing again. "Stick with Megan. She's more your speed. Calm. Grounded."
I laughed softly. "You're something else," I said, shaking my head. "Does Belview offer classes on how to be nicer? Because you definitely need one."
Craig didn't respond, but a smirk tugged at his lips. He wasn't saying much, but there was something more in his eyes.
I bumped his shoulder lightly, realizing we'd been walking too close. "Didn't think you'd walk me this far. Thought you'd vanish like you did the last time."
Craig glanced at me, his expression hard to pin down.
"Yeah, well… you looked like you could use the company."
I blinked, thrown off by the softness in his voice. "Huh. That almost sounded like you care."
"Don't get used to it," he said, smirking again.
We rounded a corner, and without warning, I strayed too close to the road. A motorcycle tore past—too fast, too quiet—until it was almost on top of us.
Before I could react, Craig grabbed me by the waist, pulling me back with an urgency that took my breath away. The force threw me against his chest, and his arms locked around me as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
My hands clutched his shirt, breathless. His hand didn't leave my waist, anchoring me.
Our faces were so close, I could see the flecks of green in his eyes. His grip was firm, possessive, like he needed me there.
His arms didn't let go. My hands grabbed at his shirt like instinct, holding tight, holding still.
We were close. Too close. Close enough to see the green in his eyes—and that they were on me, only me.
"You alright?" he asked, voice low and rough.
"Yeah…" I breathed. "I just didn't see it coming."
Neither of us stepped back.
He looked at me like I was the only thing that made sense.
"You should be more careful," he said, soft, but it hit deep.
My heart pounded.
You should stop looking at me like that, I wanted to say.
But I didn't move. And neither did he.
The world went quiet—like it was waiting to see who'd break first.