A Story That Won't End

Ayla

I leaned my forehead against the car window, letting the cold glass sting my skin. The road to Da Vinci College was buzzing like always-students dragging suitcases, cars lined up, everyone rushing around like the world was ending.

Normally, I loved this kind of chaos. The first day of a new semester always felt like cracking open a fresh page. A clean slate.

But this time... I felt nothing.

Since morning, it was like something had slipped away from me-something I couldn't name. Even the sharp bite of autumn air couldn't pull me out of this hollow feeling.

"Miss Monroe, are you ready?" Nate, my driver, broke through my thoughts.

I gave him a small nod.

When the car stopped in the campus lot, I noticed everyone else stepping out like they owned the place. Some in leather jackets, some leaning against their bikes like they were starring in some college movie.

Me? I just wanted to keep my head down and get to class without being noticed.

I've had weird dreams since I was a kid. Always the same one, over and over. A cold river. A small hand gripping mine. A soft voice whispering one name to me: Hope.

I'd wake up every single time with my chest pounding and cold sweat running down my neck. But I never saw his face. It was always blurry.

The dream never went away. Even last night, it clung to me like a shadow I couldn't shake off.

Maybe it was just new semester jitters. Or maybe... a part of me really was missing.

I walked into Advanced Architecture. Funny thing was, I wasn't even an architecture major. I only signed up for the class as an elective because people said the professor was calm, the vibes were peaceful. Exactly what I needed right now.

I grabbed a seat by the window, opened my laptop, stacked two books for my elbow rest. Most of the time, I used books as a shield anyway-pretending to be busy so the world would just... leave me alone.

"Is this seat taken?"

I looked up.

A guy was standing there. Dark brown hair, messy but in that on-purpose way. Warm, tanned skin. And his eyes... silver-gray, sharp but not threatening. He carried a big sketch pad in one arm, his aura calm almost enchanted.

I nodded, and he sat down.

A few minutes later, before the professor showed up, he glanced at me. "You still like drawing flowers with the stems curving to the right?"

My heart practically jumped out of my chest. My pulse went crazy, like some hidden alarm went off inside me.

"What?" My voice shook.

He gave me a small smile. "Just a guess."

I forced a laugh. "Well... your guess is right. Do you always throw random guesses at strangers?"

"Sometimes," he said casually. "Name's River. And you?"

"Ayla."

When his hand touched mine, something sparked. Warmth, but also like a tiny electric shock crawling up my arm. My skin tingled, and I quickly pulled my hand back, pretending to mess with my laptop.

Even when the TA came in, my head wasn't in class. River's words wouldn't stop echoing in my mind.

How did he know about something I used to do as a kid?

Finally, Dr. Wyatt walked in-middle-aged, graying hair, soft-spoken but commanding enough to pull everyone's attention.

He started a lecture on 'Organic Architecture,' going into Frank Lloyd Wright, talking about how buildings should blend with landscapes.

I tried listening. I really did. But my thoughts drifted again, back to the river, back to that faceless boy from my dreams. Until-

"Miss Monroe."

I snapped my head up.

Dr. Wyatt was staring at me. "In your opinion, how does Wright balance the relationship between interior and exterior in his design of Fallingwater?"

My brain froze. Empty. "Uh... maybe... lots of windows?"

Silence. Every eye on me.

"Interesting," Dr. Wyatt said politely. "Though it could use a little more depth."

River leaned forward. "If I may, sir?"

Dr. Wyatt gestured for him to continue.

"Wright believed buildings shouldn't fight nature, but flow with it. In Fallingwater, he used local stone and concrete, creating terraces that echoed the rock formations by the river. It was his way of making the house feel like part of the landscape instead of something dropped on top of it."

Dr. Wyatt smiled. "An excellent answer, Mr...?"

"River Callahan, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Callahan. Well said."

Class ended, and we walked out together. Under a maple tree, I found myself blurting, "You were amazing back there, the way you answered him."

He shrugged. "I just... like structures. Shapes. They make sense. Unlike people."

I let out a soft laugh. "Funny. I took this class to escape people. Architecture feels like... a way to redesign things. Maybe even redesign myself."

His gaze lingered on me-deep, understanding, almost too much. It made me uneasy, but at the same time... weirdly safe.

Then another voice cut through.

"Ayla."

I turned.

Rhett. My cousin. My overprotective, leather-jacket-wearing, knife-eyed shadow.

His stare flicked over River, head to toe. "What exactly do you want with my cousin?"

River stood slowly, calm as ever. "We were just talking."

"Talking?" Rhett narrowed his eyes. "Architecture student suddenly cozying up to Ayla? Sounds suspicious to me."

I groaned. "Seriously, Rhett? He literally did nothing."

Rhett ignored me. "I don't care about your intentions. I care about the consequences."

River didn't flinch. "I'm not here to hurt anyone."

The air tightened, tension crackling between them like static. My chest constricted.

"Enough!" I snapped. "Rhett, please. I can handle myself. I don't even know who I really am yet, so let me figure it out without you trying to control every step I take."

Rhett's jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything. His eyes, though, stayed hard as stone.

I couldn't take it anymore. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked away, leaving both of them behind.

My legs carried me fast through the hallways, my hands trembling from anger at Rhett-and from something else.

It was River. From the way he looked at me. From the strange familiarity in everything he said.

That half-smile. Those silver eyes. The comment about the flowers. All of it felt... too close to the dreams that haunted me since childhood.

This was odd. I didn't know him. I was Ayla. That was the only truth I had.

So why, every time I thought of his gaze, I heared a voice whispering inside my head.

'Never say never.'

I stopped, staring at my reflection in the glass doors of the campus.

Why did it feel like... I'd lived another life before this one?