Unknown POV –

She’s standing by the shoreline now, barefoot on the soft, golden sand as the wind tangles her hair like a painter dragging a brush across a half-finished canvas. I watch her from afar, tucked beneath the shadow of a palm, where no one would bother to look. Not her. Not him. Especially not him.

She’s wearing white today—how poetic. She always wears light colors when she’s at peace, when the ghosts of her past don’t cling so tightly. I know this because I’ve memorized it. Memorized her.

Aiza.

The girl with stardust in her veins and storms in her eyes. The one who laughs like she’s healing and cries like the world might end. There’s an ache in my chest when I see her smile. It's the kind of ache that doesn't go away with time. Trust me—I’ve tried.

Jeremy reaches her first. Of course he does. She turns to him, her face lighting up in that familiar way that burns me every time. I don’t hate him. I can’t. He’s the one who makes her laugh like that. But I also can't stop wishing it was me.

The breeze carries snippets of her voice—soft, excited, a little breathless. They’re talking about the final scene. Something about the lighting. Her movements are expressive, her hands painting invisible shapes in the air. Jeremy listens, enchanted. As always.

I shift against the tree bark, the roughness biting into my back. Still not enough to ground me.

She’s not like the girls I’ve known. The ones who whispered sweet nothings to get closer, only to leave emptier than they came. Aiza isn't sweet nothings. She’s brutal honesty wrapped in gentle words. She’s meaning. Purpose. Truth.

And I’m just... me.

I remember the first time I saw her.

She was late. Hair a mess, sandals barely hanging on, one hand gripping a coffee she hadn't even sipped yet. But her eyes—those fire-and-ice eyes—met mine across the chaos of the lobby, and everything else blurred.

I didn’t know what it was then. Infatuation? Curiosity? Maybe just fate playing its twisted little game. But it wasn’t casual. It never could be.

I’ve watched her grow. Watched her fight to become who she is now. The girl who challenges the world, who doesn’t back down, even when she should. I’ve watched her cry. Once, when she thought she was alone. But she never was. Not really.

She has no idea I’ve seen every version of her—the broken, the hopeful, the brave. The one who talks to herself when she’s nervous. The one who stares too long at the stars like they might speak back.

But Jeremy has seen that too.

And more.

She leans into him now, forehead against his shoulder, laughing. I wonder if she told him about her dreams. The ones that wake her up gasping. The ones that leave her pacing in silence for hours, haunted by echoes no one else hears.

I would’ve held her through those nights.

I still would.

The shoot begins, and they move down the beach. Jeremy keeps a hand at her back, protective, casual, territorial. The director shouts cues, the crew bustles around them like bees to nectar. But my eyes don’t leave her. Not even for a second.

“She's magnetic, isn’t she?”

A voice. Behind me.

My body stills.

He’s here.

I don’t turn around, but I know who it is. His presence is unmistakable—cold, calculating, dark like the edge of a blade. 

“Why are you here?” I ask, keeping my voice level.

He chuckles. Low. Sharp. "Same reason you are, I suppose. Curiosity. Or maybe obsession. Hard to tell the difference these days."

I finally glance at him. His arms are folded, eyes fixed on Aiza as she dances through the waves for a romantic shot. Her laughter echoes, unbothered by the storm brewing behind her.

“You should leave,” I mutter.

"Why? Because you saw her first?" He raises a brow. "That’s not how this works. You of all people should know that."

My jaw tightens.

“She’s not a game.”

“No," he agrees, tone eerily calm. "She’s art. And art is meant to be studied... collected. Maybe even stolen."

I move then. A step forward. Just one. But it’s enough to make the warning clear.

He Grins. “Relax, brother. I'm just watching. For now."

I hate that he called me that. As if we’re the same. As if he and I could ever feel the same things for her.

He doesn’t know her pain. Her past. He doesn’t know how her voice trembles when she reads old poems. Or how she hums lullabies to calm herself down.

He only sees the surface.

I see everything.

“I’d keep a close eye on your girl,”He murmurs as he starts to walk away. “Would be a shame if someone else did too.”

My fists clench at my sides.

He disappears into the shadows, just as quickly as he appeared.

My eyes snap back to Aiza.

She’s looking around now But Jeremy says something, and her attention is drawn back.

I exhale slowly.

My heart pounds.

I don’t know what He wants from her. But I do know what I feel.

This isn’t just fascination anymore.

This is war.

And I’m willing to fight for her.

Even if she never knows I was here.

Even if I stay nothing more than the man in the shadows.

Because for Aiza...

I would burn the whole damn world down.