The hallway was quiet—too quiet for a weekday morning.
Soft light panels ran along the cream-colored walls, polished floors reflecting muted footsteps from distant classrooms. A bulletin board filled with neatly pinned notices stood opposite the administrative offices, the paper edges fluttering slightly under the hum of the air conditioner. Two staff members passed by with files in hand, whispering about schedules before disappearing around the corner.
Knock. Knock.
"What is it, disturbing me this early—"
The woman's voice stopped mid-sentence.
She looked up from her computer.
And froze.
Standing at the door was a boy who looked unreal.
Milky-pale, glossy skin caught the light like porcelain. Cool ash-brown hair with silver undertones framed his face in a neat two-block cut, soft strands brushing his forehead. Hazel, cat-like eyes curved slightly upward, framed by long, natural lashes that gave him an almost unreal gentleness. A small, sexy mole sat close to his lips, another just beneath one eye—details that made his beauty dangerously memorable.
His nose was straight, refined. His face softly sculpted, clean and delicate, with a defined jawline and high cheekbones that carried a cool elegance. At six feet tall, long-legged and slender, he looked both fragile and untouchable—beautiful enough to pass as a girl if he wished, yet undeniably carrying that calm, dangerous charm of a boy.
He was dressed simply—but perfectly.
A loose cream knit sweater, slightly tucked at the front, layered over a silver chain necklace that rested against his collarbone. Tailored black trousers hugged his long legs just enough to look sharp without trying too hard. On his feet were black leather Chelsea boots, polished and clean, adding quiet authority to his presence. A thin watch circled his wrist, understated but expensive-looking.
Effortless. Dangerous. Soft.
"Beautiful sis," he said warmly, tilting his head with a lazy smile. "If you stare that much, I might blush."
His voice was smooth—low, warm, addictive. The kind that lingered in the ear.
The woman snapped out of her daze, cheeks flushing.
"S-Sweet mouth… I'm not that beautiful," she said, though her lips curved despite herself.
"How can you say that?" Prim replied softly, eyes smiling. "You're beautiful—like an angel."
He chuckled lightly.
Her heart skipped.
"The principal said I should meet you about my living arrangements," he continued calmly. "I'm one of the new students admitted mid-semester."
His eyes sparkled—bright, innocent, almost too sincere.
The woman's heart tightened.
Mid-semester transfer…
So young…
So polite…
Normally, she would've dismissed him as another rich kid with connections. But something about him felt different. What if he had family problems? What if he was bullied at his previous school? What if this was the only place that took him in?
Her imagination ran wild.
"Don't worry," she said quickly, standing up. "I'll give you the best room in the best dorm. You won't have to worry about anything."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Prim said gently, lowering his gaze. "Anywhere is fine—as long as I have a roof over my head. I don't want to trouble you."
His voice softened.
Her heart cracked.
Poor child…
He must be used to being overlooked…
Tears welled up in her eyes.
"Silly boy," she said, waving her hand as if brushing away her emotions. "Of course it matters."
She reached for a key set in her drawer.
"I'll place you in Dorm Building A, fifth floor. That floor has only five apartments. Each unit has a large living room, kitchen, laundry area, gym access, a movie room—and three bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, mini living space, and study room."
She smiled proudly.
"The other floors only have single rooms. You'll be much more comfortable there."
Prim straightened slightly, then bowed his head just enough to look respectful—not submissive.
"Thank you," he said sincerely. "I'm truly grateful. If there's anything I can do for you, please tell me."
He smiled.
Her face burned red.
"No trouble—no trouble at all," she said quickly, handing him the keys.
As Prim accepted them, his fingers brushed lightly against hers.
Prim took the key.
His fingers brushed lightly against hers—intentional, fleeting.
The woman's heart skipped violently.
Before she could say anything else, he had already turned away, his long steps unhurried, posture relaxed yet elegant. The office door closed softly behind him.
"…Damn it," she whispered, pressing a hand to her chest.
"He's so… fucking beautiful."
She froze.
Only then remembering—I'm married.
But the damage was done.
The elevator doors slid shut.
Prim stood inside with his luggage, one hand resting lazily in his pocket, the other gripping the handle. His reflection stared back at him from the mirrored wall, eyes amused.
"And they said you can't turn off your charm," he murmured, chuckling under his breath.
He had already been assigned a room earlier.
But the receptionist had casually mentioned—If you meet the woman in charge of accommodations, you might be able to change it.
So he did.
And, well… he might have used his face a little in the receipionts too but who is counting.
The elevator dinged.
Fifth floor.
The doors opened to a wide, quiet corridor. The hallway was noticeably different from the lower floors—soft carpet, warm lighting, framed art along the walls, and a faint scent of clean linen and citrus. There were fewer doors here, spaced farther apart, giving the entire floor an almost apartment-like privacy.
Prim stepped out, whistling lightly.
One hand in his pocket.
The other dragging his luggage.
Unbothered. Unrushed.
He walked toward his assigned apartment.
Just as he reached the door, it opened from the opposite side.
A guy stepped out—tall, broad-shouldered, clearly a student.
Their eyes met.
The guy froze.
Prim paused mid-step, lifted his gaze, then smiled naturally—as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world. He lifted a hand in a casual wave and added a playful wink before slipping into his apartment and closing the door behind him.
Click.
Silence.
The guy stood there, unmoving.
Then—
Smack.
He slapped his own face.
"What the hell…?" he whispered.
"Why is my heart beating for a guy?"
"And why was I smiling like some high school kid in love?"
He swallowed hard, shaken, then hurried down the hallway like he'd just witnessed something illegal.
Minutes later—
School Campus Group Chat
#GuySoHandsomeMadeThisStraightGuyBlush
The post exploded almost instantly.
Comments flooded in:
"Bro… were you gay before or what?"
"LMAOOO stop lying."
"Pics or it didn't happen."
"New student?? Where??"
"You sure you didn't imagine him?"
"Drop the dorm location."
Some laughed.
Some mocked.
Some demanded proof.
And somewhere on the fifth floor, inside a luxury apartment—
Prim unpacked calmly, unaware—or rather, completely aware—
That the campus had just been quietly shaken.
The lecture hall was a mixed-department class—law, business, engineering, and medicine students scattered across tiered seats. Some were on their phones, some chatting, others half-asleep with notebooks unopened. The low hum of boredom filled the room.
Then—
The door opened.
Ava walked in.
Silence hit instantly, like someone pressed mute.
Heads turned. Conversations died mid-sentence.
"Fuck…" a guy whispered under his breath.
"Who's the new girl?" another murmured.
A group of boys in the middle row laughed loudly.
"Hey, come sit with us," one of them called out.
"We'll take real good care of you."
Their friends snickered.
"Harlot," a girl muttered under her breath, eyes sharp with jealousy.
Ava stopped walking.
Slowly, she turned her head.
"My name is Ava," she said calmly.
"I transferred here. Why I'm here is none of your business."
"As for my family name—" her lips curved faintly, "—you're too low-grade to even hear it."
Dead silence.
A blonde girl near the window scoffed, standing up halfway from her seat.
"Is that supposed to scare us?" she sneered.
"Talking big for a bastard. Did you practice that speech all night?"
Her friend burst out laughing.
Ava tilted her head slightly, studying her like an insect.
"Wow," she said coolly.
"A legendary dumb bitch."
"I heard that species went extinct."
"But I guess even death rejected you."
"Did you spend a whole year thinking of that comeback?"
The room exploded with laughter.
The blonde girl's face turned red.
"How dare you—!" she roared, standing up fully—
Just then, the door opened again.
Emily walked in.
Her presence softened the room, yet sharpened attention all the same.
Ava and Emily's eyes met.
For one brief second.
Emily turned away calmly and walked to her seat, uninterested.
The blonde girl sneered, pointing subtly.
"Well, look at that," she mocked Emily.
"It seems you have competition now. You're not the only pretty girl here anymore."
"Boys won't be surrounding you so much now."
She clearly tried to stir trouble between them.
Emily paused.
Then she looked back, blinking innocently.
"Oh?" she said softly.
"Did you just call me pretty?"
"Coming from an ugly bitch like you…"
"Then I must really be stunning."
A ripple of laughter followed.
Ava added without even looking back, already walking toward an empty seat—
"You don't need to worry about boys fighting over us."
"You wouldn't understand that feeling—no matter how hard you sell yourself."
The blonde girl stood frozen.
Her friends tugged her sleeve urgently, signaling her to sit down.
"Blonde, you just got schooled," a guy laughed.
Humiliated, the blonde girl grabbed her bag, stomped her foot, and stormed out of the classroom.
Just then, the teacher entered.
"Where is she going?" the teacher frowned.
"And… we have a new student, correct?"
Ava raised her hand calmly.
"Good," the teacher nodded.
"She has already introduced herself, I see."
"Class rep, you'll brief her on campus rules, department structure, and shared courses."
The teacher placed his textbooks on the desk.
"Everyone, take out your notebooks."
"This is a compulsory subject."
"Language studies."
"Not one language—multiple."
"Because understanding the world begins with understanding how people speak."
The room slowly settled.
But the atmosphere had already changed.
Ava sat quietly.
Emily leaned back in her chair.
And the class understood one thing clearly
This semester would not be peaceful they could feel it.