<b>Chapter </b><b>189 </b>


    Haider’s POV:


    :


    54


    E 55 vouchers


    The world seemed to slow down, every sound fading into a distant hum as I focused on her. Her eyes, those captivating phoenix eyes, seemed to glow a burning red for a brief moment, whether from anger or from something else entirely, before they shifted, fading back to their normal onyx color in the blink of an eye.


    Had I hallucinated?


    I watched her, my brain struggling to reconcile the vampire from the alley with the girl before me now, her clothes soaked with spilled coffee. My mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions.


    That’s when she moved, and I snapped out of it, the world rushing back into focus with a disorienting suddenness. I bent down instinctively, my hand reaching out to help her up. But before my hand could even get close, it was pped away with a sharp, forceful smack. I froze, pulling my hand back, a little dumbfounded.


    “Watch where you’re going, idiot,” she growled, her voice a low, raspy sound that sent a chill running down my spine. It was the same voice I had heard in the alleyway.


    I watched, speechless, as she got up on her own, her movements quick and agile. She didn’t even nce at me, her eyes fixed on the coffee cup. She grabbed it from the floor with a frown, her fingers curled around the stic, and with a flick of her wrist, she threw it into the trash can next to the row of lockers. Her gaze snapped back to mine, and she held it for a moment.


    Then, without another word, she turned to walk away. I just stood there, my mouth a dry, a dozen things I wanted to say caught in my throat.


    Just as <b>I </b>was about to speak up, say something, anything, to stop her, the door to the administrative office was pushed open. A man stepped out.


    “Hmm…? What happened to you?” he spoke, his gaze falling on the dark stain on her clothes. I closed my mouth shut, the moment for a confrontation gone. My eyes snapped up to the man. He looked short, with sharp, kind Japanese features and a neat side part in his hair. A pair of wire–rimmed sses sat on the bridge of his nose, and the look in his eyes was one of mild concern and slight amusement.


    “Nothing. I will go get changed. Excuse me.” That was all she said before she turned on her heel and left. She didn’t give either of us a second nce, vanishing around the corner as if she had never been there at all.


    That’s when the man turned to me, his focus shifting entirely. He narrowed his eyes, looking me up and down, like he was sizing me up. He pushed his sses up.


    I forced a smile. He might not recognize me, but I had recognized him immediately. “Professor Shinichiro?” I questioned.


    Then<b>, </b>as though a realization had just dawned on him, he asked, “Ah, Elena’s son, right? God, you look exactly like her.”


    I frowned, the unexpectedment making me feel slightly off–bnce. This was the first time I had heard something like this. Everyone, from my cousins to my father’s business partners, always said I was a spitting


    <b>10:20 </b><b>Mon</b><b>, </b>Sep <b>15 </b>


    image of my dad.


    “Really? Most people say I look simr to my dad,” I said, a faintugh escaping my lips.


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    He nodded, pushing open the door to his office and motioning for me to enter. I walked in after him, the scent of fresh coffee and paper hitting me. “You do. But I mean, when you smile, your eyes and your dimples look exactly like hers.” He smiled at me, a soft, kind expression that seemed to crinkle the corners of his eyes.


    I quirked my brow. Was this man really gay? I nced at the spilled coffee on my shirt. It had started to dry, leaving a faint, brown stain against the white of the fabric.


    I watched as he picked up the inte, and pressed a button. “There was a little ident in front of the office,” he said, his voice calm and professional. He paused. “Yes. Just a coffee spill.” Then he put it back and turned to me, as he looked down at my shirt with a frown.


    I realized what he was thinking and spoke up. “It’s fine. I’ll just zip up the jacket<b>.</b>” I pulled the zipper on my leather jacket all the way up, covering the stain.


    He nodded. The room was massive, but the number of teachers‘ stations seemed to be twice the amount of people. Most of the desks were empty.


    “It’s orientation time, and also pretty early. Just give me a few minutes to finish with this, and I’ll show you around. Have you had breakfast yet?” he questioned. I shook my head.


    “I grabbed <i>a </i>banana while going out. Heard the canteen here is pretty good, so I just told Ana to not cook anything.” Ana was the head chef <i>at </i>home, an old Russian woman sent by grandpa.


    “Alright. Have breakfast with me, then,” he said, letting out a long, theatrical sigh. “I’m starving.”


    I quirked a brow, a soft smile on my face. “Are all professors this candid?” I asked, and he scoffed.


    “Not necessarily. But you’re Elena’s son… I’m sure you’d rather I be frank. Am I wrong?” he questioned.


    I shook my head. “Nope. I like you already if I’m being honest.” The words were genuine.


    He nodded, his smile widening. “Good. I’ll be your psychology professor starting today.” He said, and I nodded. I knew that bit too. It was why Mom had specifically told me toe and meet him.


    I pursed my lips, licking them before I looked around and asked, “That girl… that’s just left the office….…..“ I began. He paused, side–eyeing me, as if he knew what I was going to ask, as if he had already seen through <ol><li>me. </li></ol>


    “The one who spilled coffee on you?” he asked.


    I nodded. “Yeah… who is she? Is she a student here?” I asked, my voice as casual as I could make it.


    He seemed to be contemting something before he answered. “Honestly, I am not quite sure. Her aunt is adamant about her joining…” He paused, looking around the room as if to make sure no one was listening. He leaned forward, his voice a low, conspiratorial whisper. “I shouldn’t be saying this, but I don’t think she’s student material.”


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    I paused. I had expected a name or a small introduction. Not for him to start gossiping like a grandmother. He reminded me of my Grand Aunt Rose at the moment.


    “Are her grades bad?” I asked. Was I mistaken? Maybe… she wasn’t the same person fromst night? Maybe somehow, her face was just simr?


    He let out a sigh. “Quite the contrary, actually. She’s an exceptional learner. But what she’s going to study is business<b>… </b>and for that, a person needs social skills. Which she seems to severelyck.” He shook his head, a look of pity on his face.


    I frowned. Business, huh? That was my major. The thought made a sudden wave of relief wash over me. It meant that I would encounter her again. “Who… exactly is she?” I pressed.


    “Oh, right. Her name is Sienna Nishikawa,” he said as he slowly stood up, grabbing his files. “If she does decide to attend… I would say you will encounter her a lot.”


    I nodded. Sienna, huh? Her eyes reminded me of a little fox.


    “But don’t you already know her?” He questioned with a frown.


    I shook my head. “Why would I?<b>” </b>


    He looked taken aback, like I’d said something ridiculous


    Am I….supposed to know her?