Luna was not staring.
She was… observing. Like a scientist. With a crush. And a very dramatic imagination.
Riven Hale sat beside her in Literature class like he hadn't just caused a minor emotional earthquake in her soul. His posture? Perfect. His notes? Freakishly neat. His skin? Literally glowing under the flickering classroom lights.
Luna peeked at him from the corner of her eye.
Pale skin? ✔️
Dark, mysterious eyes? ✔️
Never seen in sunlight yet? ✔️
Slight smirk like he knows all your secrets? ✔️✔️✔️
He's totally a vampire, she thought.
"Are you cold?" he asked suddenly, looking at her jacket. His voice was soft. Polite. Like warm tea on a rainy day.
"Huh? Oh. No. I'm just always cold. It's a personality trait." She laughed awkwardly.
He smiled. Not the smirky, I'm-better-than-you kind. A real one. The kind that made her heart hiccup.
"Do you want mine?" he asked, already moving to take off his blazer.
"Dude. We've known each other for like, two minutes."
"That's enough."
Okay, slow down Twilight, you can't just say things like that! Her brain was short-circuiting. Again.
At lunch, she sat with her usual group—mostly loud girls with eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass and too many opinions on who was dating who. But her seat was suspiciously not empty for long.
Riven. Sat. With. Her.
"Don't you wanna sit with the... popular vampire cheerleaders?" Luna blurted.
He tilted his head. "I want to sit with you."
Everyone went quiet.
Someone dropped a fork.
Luna choked on her juice.
Later that week, during P.E., the class was playing basketball in the indoor court. Riven, unsurprisingly, was insanely good. He moved like he wasn't even trying—quick, graceful, and way too accurate.
"Why don't you play outdoor sports?" Luna asked him while tying her shoelace on the bench.
He paused. "Too sunny. I burn easily."
"Fair. I'm like that too. Except instead of burning I just melt and complain."
He chuckled, then glanced at the door. "Wanna ditch and go eat cookies from the vending machine?"
She blinked. "A rebel vampire who snacks? I'm impressed."
"Only if you come with me."
So they ditched.
And they ate cookies.
And he asked her questions about her favorite books—especially the vampire ones. He didn't laugh or judge. He just listened. Closely.
That night, as Luna lay in bed, hugging her pillow, she whispered to herself:
"No way he's a vampire. Right?"
Silence.
But the rose on her windowsill that had wilted days ago?
It was blooming again.