Rushed love

Malachi had never believed in the idea of fate-not until the moment he first laid eyes on Freya.

It wasn't anything dramatic. No slow-motion entrance. No perfectly timed background music. She was just there, quietly tucked into a corner of a bustling café, her attention fixed on a worn sketchbook and the lines she carefully traced across its pages. She didn't look around or try to be seen. She was completely content in her own little world-and that was exactly what made Malachi stop mid-step.

There was something magnetic about her. The way she carried herself-calm, self-contained, almost unapproachable-wasn't from arrogance, but from an inner peace he couldn't quite understand. She wore headphones, one earbud in, the other draped over her shoulder like she couldn't decide if she wanted to be part of the world or escape from it entirely.

To anyone else, she might have seemed like just another quiet girl minding her business. But to Malachi, she was an unanswered question he suddenly needed to solve.

From that instant, it wasn't a matter of if he'd try to know her-it was how. Something in his gut told him this wasn't going to be easy. She didn't seem like the type to trust quickly. She had walls, and he could sense them. But something about her made him want to climb those walls, no matter how high they were.

He hadn't even heard her voice yet. And still, Malachi knew:
He needed to get close to her.
He needed to know who she was.
And he'd do whatever it took to make that happen.