You're staring again," he murmured without looking up. "I'm not," I said, even though we both knew I was. He turned his head slightly, those blue eyes flicking toward me - calm, calculating, and just a little amused. "Then stop memorizing my face." "Maybe I'm just trying to figure you out." "Good luck," he said quietly. "I haven't even figured myself out yet." Naomi didn't mean to notice him - the quiet boy who spoke like every word cost him something, whose hands looked like they'd learned to hold both violence and tenderness in the same breath. But Samuel Kings had a gravity to him, the kind that pulled you in before you even realized you were falling. His twin, Samantha, was the opposite - sharp, poised, and frighteningly still. She didn't speak unless necessary, and when she did, it was like a scalpel - clean, precise, and leaving a mark. "Emotions are a weakness," she told Naomi once . "Then why do you look sad every time he smiles?" Naomi asked. Samantha's gaze lingered for a moment too long before she turned away. "Because I know how it ends." The Kings twins arrived like a storm no one saw coming. They were beautiful, strange, and impossible to ignore. And for Naomi - the scholarship girl just trying to survive another session - they changed everything. One moment she was laughing with her best friend under the sun, and the next she was standing in the rain, realizing her heart had started keeping time with his. You make everything complicated," she whispered. "You make everything matter," he replied. But beneath the quiet smiles and the charged glances, there were secrets - The kings weren't running from trouble; trouble followed them like a shadow. "You can't save me, Naomi." "Then I'll stay with you until you save yourself." "You shouldn't." "I already did." Because some people don't just change your story; they rewrite it entirely. He was ink, she was light. Together they left star shaped like constellations