The lecture hall was quieter than usual that morning, sunlight slanting through the tall windows and casting faint lines across the polished wooden desks. Jade settled into his usual spot near the back, notebook open, pen poised. His coughs were soft and infrequent today, but he could feel the familiar tightness in his chest an invisible weight pressing down with every breath.
“Mind if I sit here?”
Jade looked up to find a tall boy with tousled brown hair and sharp, curious eyes standing beside him. He was holding a thick, dog-eared book on European revolutions.
“Uh… sure,” Jade muttered.
The boy dropped into the seat next to him with a casual ease that made Jade tense slightly. He had a presence that filled the space without trying, an effortless kind of confidence.
“I’m Adrien,” he said, glancing at the notebook spread before Jade. “History major. I like to sit with people who actually take notes. Helps me pretend I do too.”
Jade blinked. “I… I’m Jade. English major.”
Adrien tilted his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “English, huh? So, you’re the quiet one who reads too much and writes even more.”
“I… guess,” Jade said softly, shifting in his seat.
Adrien leaned back, resting one elbow on the desk. “Not a bad thing. Quiet people see more than they say. I like that.”
Jade’s chest tightened. He wasn’t used to someone noticing him without pity or annoyance.
The professor began discussing historical revolutions, waxing poetic on the people who dared to challenge the established order. Adrien scribbled notes lazily while occasionally leaning over to whisper comments to Jade.
“Sympathy for the rebels, huh?” Adrien murmured. “History’s full of people pushing against the system, only to be crushed in the end. Makes you wonder if it’s worth it.”
Jade’s pen paused. “Sometimes… it is worth it. Even if the outcome isn’t perfect.”
Adrien’s eyes softened slightly. “I like that answer. Optimism in a quiet package. Not many people see that in the world anymore.”
Jade looked down at his notebook, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. It was subtle, a faint flutter, but it made him uneasy in the best possible way.
After class, Adrien fell into step beside him, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets. The campus paths were slick with rain from the night before, and the sky hung low with pale clouds.
“Library?” Adrien asked.
Jade blinked. “You… want to study?”
Adrien shrugged. “Sort of. I just like sitting near you. Doesn’t mean I’ll read your notes… maybe just your company.”
Jade’s face warmed, but he didn’t reply immediately. They walked in silence, the rhythm of their footsteps blending with the distant hum of other students.
At the library, Adrien grabbed a chair beside Jade without a word. He pulled out his book, but for the next several minutes, he didn’t read. Instead, he watched Jade write, the way his pen moved across the page like a careful dance.
“You always look like you’re bracing for something,” Adrien said softly.
Jade froze, then shook his head. “I… I’m just focused.”
Adrien leaned closer. “No. You’re careful, like carrying something fragile. You don’t let anyone see it, but it’s there. I notice.”
Jade’s throat tightened. No one had ever looked at him that way, recognizing his hidden weight without judgment or pity. “I… I’m fine,” he whispered.
Adrien didn’t push. Instead, he slid a small note across the table, written neatly in blue ink:
You’re an optimist in disguise.
Jade’s eyes widened. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. Heat prickled at his neck. Someone had seen him seen the part of himself he worked so hard to hide—and they hadn’t turned away.
They stayed in the library for another hour, Adrien occasionally asking about Jade’s favorite books, his thoughts on poetry, and his perspective on human nature. Jade found himself responding more than he expected, sharing small pieces of his inner world that he rarely let anyone see.
Adrien listened. Truly listened. There was no mockery, no impatience just a quiet curiosity that made Jade’s heart beat faster than it should.
Finally, as the sun began to dip low, Adrien closed his book. “I should probably go,” he said.
Jade packed his own things, still holding the note in his hand. “You… you walked with me today,” he said softly. “Why?”
Adrien smiled, the kind of smile that tugged at the corners of Jade’s chest and left a little ache behind. “Because I want to. Because I like seeing you, Jade. That’s reason enough.”
Jade blinked, words caught in his throat. He wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a faint, “Thanks.”
Adrien’s smile lingered as he walked away, leaving a quiet heat in the air. Jade watched him go, heart hammering, feeling an unfamiliar stir of emotion—one he didn’t fully understand but couldn’t ignore.
That evening, Jade sat in his room, staring at the small note Adrien had given him. He traced the words with his finger, feeling the faint roughness of the ink.
You’re an optimist in disguise.
It was a simple sentence, yet it made Jade’s chest tighten with something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Someone saw him really saw him and it made the hidden parts of himself feel just a little less heavy.
For the first time in years, Jade thought about someone other than Danielle with a flutter of anticipation, a cautious warmth that spread quietly through his chest. Adrien had appeared suddenly in his life, a boy with sharp eyes and an easy charm, and he had noticed Jade in a way no one else ever had.
And though Jade didn’t understand it fully yet, he knew something was beginning a slow bloom of connection, delicate but undeniable.
He smiled faintly, pressing the note to his chest. The world outside his window was soft with twilight, and for the first time in a long while, Jade felt… seen.
ns216.73.216.134da2
and then Add to home screen.