Foreigner

Chapter 46: Iron

Author's note: Yes, yes, I'm alive. Balancing 2 jobs, final year of uni, and an internship is NOT for the weak. Anyway, enjoy (the suffering)! :)

Christian's POV

15 minutes earlier...
Dorm room

The vibration wakes me before dawn — a long, steady hum against the mattress. Not the sharp beep of an alarm, but a low, constant tremor that pulls me out of sleep inch by inch.

For a moment, I lie still, letting my eyes adjust to the dark. The phone's face down on the bed beside me, light leaking from its edges. I lift it, careful not to shift the weight pressed against my arm.

Lukas's head rests on my right arm — heavy, warm. His hair is a dark, tangled mess that smells faintly like soap and dust. He always smells clean, somehow, even in this place. His face is turned toward me, eyes closed, mouth relaxed, skin pale and smooth against the shadow of the pillow. Handsome. Too handsome for how reckless he is.

The screen's glow cuts across both of us. I tilt it just enough to read the name.

Victor Anders.

That snaps the haze out of me. I blink once, slow, to be sure I'm seeing right. I haven't seen that name on my phone in almost 1.5 years — not since the night I stopped answering.

The vibration stops. Silence rushes back in — the hum of the radiator, Lukas's steady breathing, the faint hiss of wind pushing against the windows.

I set the phone on my chest and carefully ease my right arm from under him. Lukas shifts a little, brow twitching. I freeze, wait. His lips part, a quiet breath leaving him. Then he settles again. I slide my arm free the rest of the way, blood rushing back through it in hot needles.

The phone buzzes again. A single vibration this time — a message.

"Meet me near the equipment shed. If you want to finish this without Lukas getting hurt."

My stomach goes cold.

Victor never wastes words. If he mentioned Lukas, it means he's already thought three moves ahead.

I glance at him again. Lukas's hair falls over his forehead, brushing his eyebrows. One hand is curled near his face, the other loose under the blanket. Peaceful, unaware. There's always something unreal about him when he's asleep — quiet, still, the chaos gone.

I swing my legs off the bed, grab the first hoodie within reach, and pull it on. My hands move automatically — phone, room key — as my brain runs through possibilities: trap, distraction, leverage.

Still, I know I'm going. I don't think twice about it.

If Victor wants to end this, I'll end it first.

I look back once more before leaving. Lukas shifts slightly, face half-buried in the pillow. His breathing stays even.

Quietly, I open the door. The hallway is dim, cold air spilling in from the cracks around the windows.

I step out, shutting the door behind me without a sound.

¤ ¤ ¤

Lukas's POV

Present
Somewhere under the library

The sound hits first — a sharp crack, like thunder in a small room. My cheek burns before I even open my eyes.

I blink hard, the world swimming into focus. The light above me flickers — a single bulb, humming like it's alive. My arms won't move. Rope digs into my wrists, rough and tight.