Rain clung to the glass like it was afraid to fall, trailing slow lines down the windows of the dorm common room. It was late, too late for a sixteen-year-old to be awake, but Alex Wilson wasn't the type to follow bedtime rules. He leaned back on the worn-out couch, legs crossed, one earbud in, the other dangling loose. The music wasn't even playing. He just liked the silence with a rhythm.
Outside, the city pulsed faintly. A hum beneath the stillness.
He smirked at the ceiling. "Bet even the gods are bored tonight."
He didn't know how right he was.
---
Alex was tall for his age, with black hair that looked like ink under the moonlight, always messy in a way that somehow made it perfect. His silver eyes—a strange shade most thought were gray—reflected light too easily, like they were holding secrets. His jawline was sharp, and his smile was a weapon, the kind that got people to follow him into dumb decisions and laugh along the way.
An orphan, sure, but not the tragic type. His parents had been rich—old money, whispered names in foundations and elite circles. When they died in a "car crash," he inherited everything. The house. The accounts. The silence.
He used the money to disappear into an ordinary life. Public school. Shared dorms. Cheap takeout. He wanted to be normal. Or at least, pretend to be.
But normal never really wanted him back.
---
He rose from the couch, stretching like a cat, hoodie hanging loose over a slim but well-toned frame. Despite how carefree he looked, his body moved like it remembered combat—reflexes born of countless small habits. Most people missed that part. They saw the jokes, the charm, the lazy brilliance.
They didn't see the patterns he noticed. The way he avoided certain corners of town. The times he vanished for hours only to return dry in a storm.
Even his teachers weren't sure if he was a genius slacker or a bored mastermind.
Probably both.
---
The door opened with a soft creak. A girl peeked in—round glasses, braids, hoodie two sizes too big.
"Alex," she whispered, "it's almost three."
He raised a brow. "And you're the Moonlight Dorm Enforcer now?"
She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Don't you ever sleep?"
He gave her a grin. "Not when I'm busy being mysterious."
"Or just avoiding math homework."
He chuckled, hands sliding into his pockets. "Tomato, tomahto."
She left, and the door clicked shut behind her.
---
Something felt... off.
Alex turned his head slightly, scanning the window. His eyes narrowed. On the rooftop across the street, a figure stood—barefoot, shirtless, pale under the clouded sky.
Too still to be human.
Alex's smile faded.
He wasn't sure why his heart was beating faster, but it was. And he always trusted his instincts. Always.
---
Later, when he looked back on this night, he wouldn't remember the joke he cracked, or the feeling of cheap couch cushions. He'd remember the cold.
The kind that wasn't on his skin, but in his bones.
Something had noticed him.
And it was waiting.