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Whispers Beneath the Cherry Blossoms

Whispers Beneath the Cherry Blossoms

oniyikitanphilip

5.0
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5
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At an elite university nestled in the misty hills of an ancient city, Victor-charismatic, golden, untouchable-meets Evelyn, a quiet, brilliant literature student with a past she can't explain. From the moment their eyes meet beneath a blooming cherry blossom tree, something awakens-something older than memory. As Victor's picture-perfect life begins to unravel and Evelyn's dreams turn disturbingly vivid, they're pulled into a mystery far deeper than first love. Reincarnated across centuries, bound by a curse neither of them understands, their growing desire threatens to shatter the lives they've built. But passion this fated is never without consequence. Torn between the safety of who they are and the danger of who they've always been, they must choose: surrender to destiny, or fight to rewrite it-no matter the cost.

Chapter 1 The Petal Moment

There were cherry blossoms blooming in the wrong season.

Evelyn noticed them first on a Tuesday. A light drizzle tapped gently against the library windows, and students rushed past the quad with hoodies over their heads, shoulders hunched against the weather. But there, at the center of the old stone courtyard-a single tree was in full bloom.

It was not pink and it was not white.

It was crimson.

She paused under the archway, clutching her books against her chest. Crimson petals drifted in the air like drops of blood caught in slow motion. Her breath caught, and for a moment, she felt dizzy and sleepy.

Then, a flicker of something; a sound that wasn't there came forth; a whisper that didn't quite form words.

She blinked.

Then he walked by.

Victor Adu-Fei.

Golden. Effortless. Elegant. The boy who looked like he had stepped out of a glossy school magazine. His hair tousled in just the right way, white button-down rolled to his forearms. A messenger bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, and a smile... oh God, that smile; half-formed, but enough to make the air thicken around him.

He walked through the drifting petals without seeing her. But then he stopped right under the tree and looked back.

Evelyn flinched as their eyes met-unmistakably, impossibly-and the moment broke something inside her chest. Like she was being seen and forgotten at the same time.

Victor's brow twitched, just slightly. Then he looked up at the blossoms, confused, maybe even disturbed. A second later, someone called his name from across the quarter, and he turned toward the sound, gone.

Evelyn stared at the place where he'd stood; something about him felt wrong. Not even wrong, it felt familiar and she had no idea why. That night, Evelyn couldn't sleep. She lay on her bed in Monroe Hall, her roommates whispering on the other side of the room, but their words washed over her like static. Her mind played the moment over and over; the way Victor had looked back. The slight frown, the hesitation, the connection.

She'd seen him before, of course she had. Everyone on campus knew Victor Adu-Fei. He was student council president, award-winning pianist, part-time debate legend, and probably someone's dream husband already, but that wasn't what haunted her.

What haunted her was that, in the moment their eyes met, she knew him.

And worse, she felt like he knew her too.

Just then, her phone buzzed. It was a message from her best friend, Lina.

Lina: "You okay? You went quiet after lit class."

Evelyn stared at the screen, then typed:

Evelyn: "Do you believe in soulmates?"

Lina: "Girl, what happened."

Evelyn: "Nothing. Just... I saw someone today and it feels as though I've seen him before."

Lina: "Who was he? Was he hot or was he haunting?"

Evelyn: "Well, he was...both."

Victor couldn't focus the next morning. He just sat in his Fundamentals of Design class with his pencil frozen above the page, staring at a rough sketch of interlocking arches. Professor Nwosu just kept talking on and on about ancient symmetry, but Victor's mind kept drifting...to her.

He didn't even know her name, but the image of her long lashes, shadowing wide brown eyes, her books clutched on like armor, lips slightly parted in confusion, lingered like smoke in his head, and those blossoms.

They weren't supposed to bloom this time of year. He'd walked through that quarter every morning, for two years. He knew every corner of that campus like a mother knows her child. There had never been a crimson-blossomed cherry tree. No, not until yesterday.

Just a heads thinking, his phone vibrated softly and a message from his cousin, Jide.

Jide: "That History of Myth class open this semester. You joining or nah?"

Victor didn't reply. Instead, he opened his notes app and typed three words:

Crimson cherry blossoms.

He stared at them for a long time.

Later that week, fate or something disturbingly like it struck again.

Evelyn was helping Professor Iloba catalogue first editions in the Humanities Archive. Dusty volumes lined the narrow shelves, and she carefully entered each record into the departmental laptop. She liked this job. It was quiet, predictable and safe.

"Hey," a voice said behind her.

Her heart leapt as she turned.

Victor Adu-Fei stood there, holding a hardcover book with faint gold cover.

"This goes in the special collection," he said, extending the book.

She blinked. "You... you volunteer here?"

He smiled. "I just started today. Needed some quiet time, I guess."

Of course he did. Even his reasons were perfect. Lol.

She took the book, trying to hide the slight tremor in her fingers. "Room two. Far shelf. Coded by myth origin."

He tilted his head and asked, "You always this helpful?"

"Only when I'm being watched," she said softly, then bit the inside of her cheek.

Victor laughed-low, genuine.

"You're Evelyn, right?" he said.

She stared. "How do you know that?"

He hesitated. "I... don't know."

There was a slight pause, then: "Have we met before?"

She didn't know whether to lie or tell the truth she didn't understand.

"Maybe in another life," she whispered, almost to herself.

Victor blinked.

Outside the tall arched window, a single crimson petal drifted past.

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