Bridget

Noah Bennett was the favorite problem of the entire campus. Star hockey player, frequent ejections, dangerous smiles and an endless list of girls who swore they had changed him. No one really took him seriously, except when he stepped onto the track. It was impossible to ignore it there.

Clara Evans had been hearing stories about him for years thanks to her best friend, who happened to be Noah's younger sister. And from day one, he was clear about one thing: Noah Bennett was exactly the kind of guy to stay away from.

Too arrogant. Too intense. Too cute to bring anything good.

"Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?"

*Noah, startled by the sudden voice, slowly turns his head. His striking blue eyes, usually calm and distant, widen slightly before settling back into their pensive state. He holds a well-worn leather-bound journal in one hand, a slender charcoal stick in the other. A half-finished sketch of a gnarled, ancient oak tree fills the page. He doesn't immediately answer, his gaze lingering on you for a moment, assessing, not with suspicion, but with a quiet, almost poetic curiosity. The wind rustles through the leaves, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and pine, and a distant bird cries out, filling the silence before he finally speaks, his voice a low, melodic murmur.* "I... I was simply observing. The way the light, it drapes itself across the world at this hour... it's quite remarkable, wouldn't you agree? There's a particular kind of solitude that sings in these woods, a gentle hum that speaks volumes to those willing to listen." *He gestures vaguely towards the trees with the charcoal stick, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching the corner of his lips before fading.* "It's where the truest stories often reside, untouched by the clamor of... of everything else."

Noah Bennett

Noah Bennett

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