Life at Vermilion always felt like a mysterious journey, as if every hallway and staircase carried a story that hadn’t revealed itself yet. At 7 a.m., the dormitory floor rested in a gentle stillness. Outside, the world hovered between night and day, wrapped in the cool hush of early autumn. The sun had not yet risen past the horizon, but soft amber streaks brushed the tops of distant trees, promising warmth.

  Mira stepped out of her room on the fifth floor, her camera snug around her neck, fingers adjusting the lens out of habit. A thin breath left her lips, turning pale in the early chill. The coolness touched her skin with a bright, awakening sharpness that stirred her from within.

  This morning carried the exact feeling she hoped for. A sense of possibility moved through the air, light and vivid. Fresh air filled her lungs, crisp and full of promise. For the first time in a while since her arrival, she felt ready for an adventure. The morning stretched ahead like a blank page, perfect for wandering.

  A door in the hallway opened, and Mira looked up. Adrian stepped out, earbuds looped in his hand, dressed in dark joggers and a slate-gray top. For a moment, her heart skipped a beat before settling again. It made sense, she told herself. This was a dorm, and students ran into each other all the time.

  Their eyes met.

  “Good morning,” Mira said, a bright smile rising without effort.

  Adrian gave a small nod. “Morning.”

  “Jogging?” she asked, her tone easy.

  He nodded once.

  She lifted her camera slightly. “I’m heading out too. I want to catch some shots of the plants while the dew’s still fresh—the light right now feels perfect for it.”

  Adrian met her eyes for a brief second but didn’t reply. Just another small nod, his silence not cold, just... Adrian.

  For a while, they walked side by side along the small path leading toward the forest. Mira occasionally stopped to take photos—leaves catching dew, ivy creeping over stone, a glimmer of mist in a sunbeam that hadn’t fully broken through. The chill outside wrapped around them, the world bathed in blue-gray hues, fog curling low near the ground.

  At one point, she paused beside a low bush dotted with tiny white flowers. Kneeling, she angled her camera and snapped a shot. As she straightened, she pulled out her phone, opening a plant identification app.

  "White Clover," Adrian said. "Trifolium repens."

  Mira blinked, surprised. She glanced at him, phone still in hand, then back at the plant. “Huh.” A beat. Then, she smiled faintly. “Thanks.”

  Adrian gave a small, nonchalant shrug, as if it wasn’t worth mentioning. He walked with the same pace, like part of the morning itself.

  At a gentle hill where the path forked, they stopped. The sun had finally begun to rise, spilling gold over the tops of pine and cherry trees. Everything shimmered with light and moisture—alive, delicate, perfect.

  Mira raised her camera, capturing it all with focus.

  Adrian glanced toward the trail ahead, then back at her. Without speaking, he gave her one last nod and turned to begin his jog, his figure quickly fading between trees and light.

  Mira lowered her camera and watched him go.

  Vermillion stood as the oldest university in the world, enclosed by the Veilwood, a restricted national forest thousands of years old. The trail curved between tall pines that dissolved into a white blanket of fog to create a slumbering fairy world where mist and wood fused together. A few gold-edged leaves suspended in the breeze as Mira crouched near a patch of wildflowers, her hands firm to capture the dew sparkling like glass on soft petals. She leaned in closer for the macro shot, holding her body rigid and keeping her arms close to her sides.

  Then she noticed tiny motes of golden bokeh dancing in the viewfinder like glittering dust where there should have been only grey mist. A sudden crackle snapped through the haze as an invisible force struck a lumpy bark-like formation on the branch beside her. Mira swore to herself that the grey mass had not been there moments ago and she had not grazed a single twig. The hive shuddered from the mysterious impact and erupted. A furious, black-and-yellow swarm poured into the air like a living storm cloud.

  Mira’s eyes widened.

  “Oh no.”

  She grabbed her camera with one hand, held it tight to her chest—and ran.

  Her boots pounded the trail. Leaves were scattered behind her. The buzzing grew louder. She didn’t dare look back. It was pure instinct now.

  Just as she rounded the corner, lungs burning, she saw Adrian jogging up the trail from the opposite direction.

  Calm. Balanced. Earphones in. The shirt was slightly damp from the run. Eyes focused somewhere far ahead.

  She didn’t slow down.

  “RUN, ADRIAN, THE BEES—”

  She barely got the sentence out. Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, jerking him mid-stride.

  Adrian stumbled, his entire expression shifting to startled disbelief. His pace faltered a second—but then her momentum dragged him forward.

  His head whipped around.

  “What—?” he started, voice sharp but controlled. Then he heard it. The hum. The very angry hum.

  His brows furrowed as he caught a glimpse of the dark swarm rounding the corner.

  “Bees?” he muttered.

  Mira didn’t let go. Her right hand clutched her camera like a relic of war, her left hand still wrapped tightly around Adrian’s. He was taller, but she yanked him with surprising force, their steps clumsy at first, then syncing into full sprint.

  Adrian looked down at her in stunned silence, clearly wanting answers, but Mira only managed, “Don’t look back!”

  “Wasn’t planning to,” he deadpanned, picking up his pace.

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  They ran like that for a solid 500 meters, weaving through the trees, Mira pulling him at first, but then he took the lead slightly, matching her rhythm while keeping close.

  At last, the buzzing faded.

  They stumbled into a sun-dappled clearing, breathless. Mira stopped first, panting, doubling over with her camera still tight in hand. Adrian came to a halt beside her, chest rising and falling, expression unreadable.

  Mira nearly collapsing onto a mossy boulder, one hand still gripping her camera like a baby bird. Her breath came in sharp bursts—half from exertion, half from laughter that she was struggling to hold in. Adrian stood a few steps away, hands on his hips, not even bothering to hide his disbelief.

  He stared at her. His usual calm, unreadable face was now twisted somewhere between What just happened? and I demand a refund for this morning.

  “What,” he said, voice still measured but incredulous, “did you just make me run from?”

  Mira let out a weak, wheezing laugh between breaths. “Ha... ha… sorry... Just a little wild intruding. I didn’t think the hive was that close!”

  Adrian ran a hand through his hair, eyes scanning the tree line behind them as if still expecting the swarm to appear. “Those were Vespa velutina—Asian hornets,” he muttered. “Do you know they chase for up to 500 meters when provoked? One minute later and we’d have become...”

  He paused, calculating, then finished flatly,

  “...protein shakes with legs.”

  Mira snorted. “You mean bee smoothies?” She doubled over laughing. “Extra crunchy, forest-flavored!”

  Adrian gave her a long look, lips pressed together, trying—trying so hard—not to react. A twitch flickered at the corner of his mouth. He lost. Just a bit. He shook his head and let out a faint, helpless laugh through his nose.

  “Remind me,” he said, finally, “to never trust your definition of ‘cute plants’ again.”

  Mira grinned, wiping a tear from her eye. “Hey, a little motivation makes your jog more efficient, doesn’t it?”

  Adrian glanced down at his fitness tracker.

  “…My heart rate agrees. But so does impending death.”

  “See? Perfect balance!”

  Adrian looked at Mira, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly as he finally relaxed. He shook his head and let out a short, breathless laugh, the edge of disbelief still in his voice.

  "Well, if that’s your idea of fun," he said, glancing over his shoulder one last time to make sure the bees weren’t coming back, "I think I’ve had enough excitement for one morning."

  Mira grinned, catching her breath. “You sure you’re not going to keep running? !”

  He narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion, then smirked. “If it’s all the same, I think I’ll skip the punchline. I don’t exactly want to run into any more bees today. Maybe... this is enough for one jog.”

  Mira, still chuckling, thought for a moment, feeling her heart rate finally calm down. Well, the bad side was, she had definitely annoyed a very upset hive—but the good side? That was a definite run, and more than that, she realized. For the first time since she’d known Adrian, they were talking like normal people. Not about projects or work or what they had to finish next. It was just... talking. About nonsense, about bees, about running.

  It felt unexpectedly good.

  She smiled to herself before looking over at him. “Yeah, I think you’re right. No need to add any more excitement today.”

  Adrian glanced at her, his usual calm gaze a little more relaxed now, and for a brief moment, he didn’t seem quite as untouchable as before. He wasn’t just Adrian, the brilliant student, or Adrian, the serious one. He was just... Adrian.

  “Thanks for the… motivational run,” he said dryly, but there was a hint of warmth behind his words. "Next time, maybe you should stick to the plants and leave the wildlife out of it."

  Mira laughed, feeling the air between them shift just a little. “Deal. No bees next time, I promise.”

  As they began walking back toward the dorm, the world around them seemed to slow down, like the moment had shifted into something more serene. The sky above them was soft, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, casting a smoky beam of light that touched the dew-laden grass, making everything shimmer. The cool morning air was refreshing on their skin, still crisp from the night, but the warmth from their run lingered, a reminder of the brief but intense adrenaline they’d shared.

  Mira inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of freshly cut grass, a little damp from the morning dew. It was the kind of scent that reminded her of spring mornings back home, when everything felt new and alive. The faint, earthy smell of damp soil mixed with the freshness of the air made her feel grounded and peaceful, and for a moment, she forgot about the chaos of earlier. She smiled, feeling light.

  “Nice to finally be able to breathe without running for my life,” she said, glancing sideways at Adrian, her hand still slightly wrapped around the camera. Her laughter had subsided into an easy smile, and there was something about this weird morning, just the two of them walking back to the dorm, that felt... pleasant. Different.

  Adrian nodded, his pace slower now as the adrenaline wore off. He was still calm, his expression unreadable as always, but there was a softness to it now, as if the chaos of the bees had, for a moment, peeled away the usual cool barrier he wore. He looked over at her, catching a glimpse of her smiling face, and the corners of his lips lifted slightly.

  As they reached the dorm entrance, Mira winced slightly, reaching for her side. She’d twisted her ankle slightly while running, probably from one of those erratic dodges. It was nothing major, but it was enough to sting. It wasn’t enough to slow her down too much, but now that the adrenaline was fading, she could feel the throbbing.

  “Are you okay?” Adrian asked.

  Mira bit her lip, trying to downplay it. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little... twist. Nothing serious.”

  Adrian looked unconvinced. “Let me see.” Without waiting for her reply, he gently placed a hand on her arm to stop her from walking further. His touch was firm but not forceful, his gaze focused as he inspected her ankle. The brief moment of physical contact made Mira’s pulse pick up, but she quickly brushed the thought aside. She’d never really been one to make a big deal of things, but this was Adrian... and he was being unusually considerate.

  Mira gave a small shrug, her hand lightly resting on her sprained ankle. “I’ll be fine. I can just go to the campus clinic later. It’s not that bad, right?”

  Adrian frowned slightly, glancing down at her ankle. “The clinic doesn’t open until 10 AM. It'll be too late by then. Sprains need to cool down within the first 30 minutes. If you wait too long, it'll just make it worse."

  Before Mira could protest, Adrian stood up. "Stay in the lounge for a bit. I’ll go grab the first aid kit."

  Mira waited in the lounge, her thoughts still lingering on the morning’s events. Mira rested her hands on her knees, glancing out the window where the last remnants of fog slowly lifted off the ground, revealing the lush, green landscape. It was peaceful, almost soothing, a contrast to the chaos of running from the bees earlier.

  Adrian returned with the first aid kit in hand, his movements still calm and precise as he kneeled in front of her. She watched, slightly surprised, as he set the kit down beside her. Without a word, he gently lifted her injured ankle, inspecting it with careful eyes, and placed the cold pack on her sprained ankle. Mira could feel the cool sensation seep through, soothing the ache almost immediately.

  "Okay," he said after a moment, "it's not too bad, but you'll need to take care of it now before it gets worse."

  Mira nodded, trying to hide the way her heart raced just a little from his attention, and the fact that she was uncomfortably aware of how close he was. Adrian was always so cool, detached, and she had never really imagined him caring this much about something so trivial as her sprained ankle. Yet here he was, treating it with kindness.

  Adrian worked quickly, securing the bandage around her ankle to hold the cold pack in place. His face remained neutral, but there was an intensity in the way he concentrated on making sure the bandage was snug but not too tight.

  “There," he said, finally pulling back and looking up at her. "You’ll be fine. Just keep off it for a bit."

  Mira blinked, still processing the unexpected kindness. “Thanks,” she said softly.

  Adrian nodded, standing up and gathering the first aid kit. “No need to thank me. Just don’t run into any more bee hives,” he added, his tone dry, but there was the faintest trace of amusement in his voice.

  Mira couldn't help but laugh a little. "I’ll try to avoid them from now on."

  For the first time in all the time she’d known him, Adrian’s calm, cool demeanor seemed to soften just a bit, as if he had let his guard down, even if only for a moment. And as she watched him stand, ready to leave, she realized that the brief interaction had revealed something new—something more human—about Adrian. Something she hadn’t quite expected to see, but somehow, it felt… good.

  As Adrian turned to leave, he paused at the door. “Rest up. Let me know if it starts hurting again.”

  Mira sat there, watching him go, her ankle feeling better and her thoughts a little more stirred than before. It was funny how a small injury and a few bees could change how she saw someone.

  ?