She told herself she wasn’t nervous.147Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡchX1nqmnqk
She told herself this was normal.
Yet her fingers kept tapping against her notebook as she sat alone in the classroom, the sunlight outside fading into a dull orange. The room felt quieter than it should’ve been, like the walls were listening.
The door creaked open.
She didn’t have to look up to know it was him.
“You always this dramatic when you stay late?” he asked, dropping into the desk beside hers like it was his assigned seat.
She finally looked up. “You’re not even supposed to be here.”
“And yet,” he said, grinning, “here I am.”
She shook her head, pretending to focus on her notes. Her heart was doing that annoying thing again—beating too fast, like it knew something she didn’t want to admit.
“So,” he continued, leaning back, “what’s your excuse?”
“Excuse for what?”
“For staying after class.”
She hesitated. “Homework.”
He laughed softly. “Yeah. Sure.”
She shot him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” he said, lowering his voice, “you don’t look like someone who stays late for homework.”
Her cheeks burned. “And what do I look like?”
He paused. Just long enough for her to feel it.147Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGpwja6PfXD
“Like someone who’s trying not to think about something.”
That hit closer than she liked.
Before she could respond, footsteps echoed down the hallway. She stiffened instinctively, but he didn’t move—didn’t even flinch.
“Relax,” he murmured. “It’s just the janitor.”
She exhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath. “You sound very sure.”
“Trust me,” he said. “I’ve stayed after class plenty of times.”
That earned him a suspicious glance. “For homework?”
He smirked. “Sometimes.”
Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Like something was waiting to be said.
She closed her notebook. “You should go.”
“Why?”
“Because…” She trailed off, not knowing how to explain the strange pull she felt whenever he was near.
He tilted his head. “Because you’re afraid?”
Her eyes snapped to his. “I’m not afraid.”
“Good,” he said quietly. “Neither am I.”
The bell didn’t ring. No one interrupted. And for a moment, the world felt smaller—just two desks, a fading sunset, and the realization that staying after class might change more than she was ready for.
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and then Add to home screen.