**A Promise Written on the Rusted Edge of Time by Dael Rowan**
Madison was… different, in a way that was hard to articulate, but unmistakably real.
If I’m being completely honest with myself, she seemed to have everything one could wish for.
She was stunning—like the kind of beautiful you see gracing the covers of glossy magazines or scrolling through your Instagram feed.
Her face was perfectly sculpted, with delicate features that seemed to have been crafted by an artist’s hand. Those enormous doe-like eyes sparkled with a blend of innocence and mischief, and when she smiled, those adorable dimples would appear, adding an irresistible charm to her already captivating persona.
And she wasn’t just a pretty face; she was sharp as a tack. Always at the top of every class, her intellect was as impressive as her looks.
Whenever a teacher called on her, she would respond with answers so precise and articulate that it was as if she had been preparing for the question all along.
To top it all off, she came from wealth—designer labels adorned her wardrobe, yet she wore them with a nonchalance that made it seem as if she had simply stepped out of a fashion magazine without even trying.
It was as if grace and elegance flowed through her veins, effortlessly.
The very first time I laid eyes on her, she was already making a play for Dylan.
It was the inaugural day of the school year, and she stood outside the dormitory, a pink suitcase by her side, looking adorably lost and vulnerable.
“Excuse me, could you help me with my bags?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet, laced with a charming Southern accent that made her sound like she had just walked off a movie set.
Dylan, ever the gallant one, strolled by and without a moment’s hesitation, he scooped up her luggage as if it weighed nothing.
“Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, her smile brightening the dreary day. “You’re Dylan Carter, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”
It was clear she had done her research, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at how easily she engaged him.
Later, as we settled down to pick our seats, she casually asked to switch with Dylan.
“I have terrible eyesight—could I sit closer to the front?” she proposed, and it made perfect sense. Dylan, not one to argue over something so trivial, obliged without a second thought.
Just like that, she secured her place as his desk partner.
Initially, Dylan maintained his usual icy demeanor towards her. That was simply his nature when it came to new faces.
But Madison, with her innate understanding of people, knew exactly how to break through his defenses.
She would surprise him with drinks during basketball practice—not just plain water, but refreshing homemade lemon-honey tea and other delightful concoctions.
“It’s so hot out here. This will cool you down,” she would say, her voice laced with concern.
When he was buried in late-night study sessions, she would appear with steaming cups of coffee, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“I got too much. Want some? It’ll help you stay awake,” she’d offer, her tone inviting and warm.


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