The afternoon sun filtered weakly through the classroom windows, casting long streaks of golden light across the desks. Aki sat at her usual spot by the window, her backpack resting lazily on her lap as she tried to focus on the math problems in front of her. Every line of numbers blurred together. Her thoughts were elsewhere, inevitably drifting toward him.
Lua.
He had been quiet all morning, more than usual. Even his usual playful smirk seemed tempered, his movements unusually careful, as though he were measuring each step before taking it. Aki's chest tightened every time he glanced her way, even from across the room. She could not explain why, but something about him today set her nerves on edge.
"Hey, Aki," a familiar voice broke her thoughts. Lua was standing at her desk, leaning slightly on the edge. His red eyes, usually so easy to read, were softened with something she could not immediately name. Vulnerability.
Her heart skipped a beat. She tried to look casual, flipping her notebook closed with a practiced motion. "H-hi," she murmured.
"I… uh…" Lua paused, scratching the back of his neck, clearly struggling with his words. He looked like a younger version of himself she had seen in old photos—awkward and uncertain, but endearing all the same. "There's a school mixer coming up this weekend," he finally said, his voice low and hesitant. "I was wondering… if you'd go with me."
Aki blinked, momentarily frozen. Her first instinct was confusion, then shock, then a creeping awareness that her pulse had sped up without her realizing.
"Go… with you?" she repeated, her voice uncertain.
He nodded, swallowing slightly. "Yeah. I… I feel uncomfortable going alone. You know, with all the people there… and…" He trailed off, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack.
Her heart clenched slightly. He had always seemed so confident, so composed, yet here he was, asking her, hesitating, exposing himself in a way that was almost painfully intimate.
"I see," she said softly, unsure how to respond. Her mind spun. If she said yes, it would mean spending hours in a social situation with him—close, visible, vulnerable. She would have to suppress the flurry of emotions that now seemed impossible to ignore. But if she said no, he might leave feeling rejected, and the thought made her stomach twist.
"I… I'm sorry, Lua," she said finally, forcing her voice to remain calm. "I… I cannot go. I have… other plans."
His shoulders slumped slightly, and for a moment, she could see the faint shadow of disappointment flicker across his face. Vulnerable.
"I… oh," he murmured softly. He tried to smile, but it faltered, and he turned to leave, leaving her sitting there, her chest tight with unease.
The classroom felt impossibly quiet after he left, and Aki's thoughts spiraled. She hated that she had rejected him. She hated that she had let her own fear dictate her response. He had trusted her, and she had pushed him away. Her chest ached as she realized how deeply she already cared for him.
She tried to focus on the remaining lessons, but her mind refused to cooperate. Every glance out the window, every passing shadow, made her heart jump. She imagined him at the mixer, surrounded by other students, uncomfortable and awkward, just as he had admitted he would be.
And then, later that evening, she saw it.
Scrolling through Instagram absentmindedly, she nearly dropped her phone. There it was: a post from the female teen actress she had long admired, the one whose movies and interviews had captivated her for months. The caption read something playful about the mixer, and the photos… her chest tightened further.
Lua was in the pictures.
And the actress was impossibly close. Clingy, laughing, leaning into him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. Lua's expression was polite, but she could see it clearly—his eyes were slightly uneasy, awkward, uncomfortable. He smiled out of courtesy, but Aki could tell he was not at ease.
Comments flooded the post. "She looks so normal with Lua." "I did not expect him to be this approachable." "Wow, Lua actually seems happy with her."
Aki's stomach twisted. Jealousy, sharp and unrelenting, rose inside her. Every fiber of her being screamed at her, warning that she could no longer ignore what she felt. The warmth in her chest, the fluttering, the dizzying ache from proximity—all of it came rushing back.
She grabbed her phone, dialing his number before she could think better of it. Her fingers shook slightly, but she pressed the call button anyway.
Lua answered on the third ring. "Hello?" His voice sounded tired, but gentle.
"Lua," she blurted, her tone sharper than she intended. "Why… why did you even go to that mixer? With her?"
There was a pause on the other end, and Aki felt her heart stutter.
"It… it was just a school thing," he said carefully. "I didn't expect to feel uncomfortable, but… I guess I did."
Aki's chest tightened. "Uncomfortable? That is an understatement. I… I saw the pictures." Her voice was trembling, full of emotion she could no longer contain. "She is clingy… too close… you look so uneasy."
Lua sighed softly, and she could hear the faint exhale of relief mixed with resignation. "I… I told you I feel awkward in these situations. I did not want to go alone, but I did not expect anyone to notice. I am… fine. It is not what you think."
Aki's heart skipped a beat. She felt a mix of embarrassment, jealousy, and longing all at once. Her voice softened, almost a whisper. "Lua… I… I cannot stand the thought of anyone else getting that close to you."
He was silent for a moment, and Aki could almost hear his heartbeat through the line. Then he said, quietly, "I do not want anyone else to be that close to me either… Aki."
Her breath caught. His words, gentle but direct, sent warmth flooding through her chest. She felt weak, dizzy, and almost ready to admit everything she had kept buried for years.
"I… Lua," she began, but the words faltered. Her throat tightened, and she could not continue.
"Shh," he murmured, his tone gentle, protective. "You do not need to say anything right now. Just… promise me you will not worry too much. I am fine."
Aki nodded, though he could not see her. Her chest heaved as she fought the urge to cry from relief, jealousy, and the sudden realization of how deeply she had fallen for him.
The call ended with a quiet promise and a lingering tension neither could ignore.
That night, Aki lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about Lua's vulnerability, the closeness he had shown the actress, and the ache it had brought her. She hated herself for feeling jealous, yet she could not deny the intensity of her emotions.
Something had shifted between them. Something delicate, fragile, and irrevocably real.
And she knew, deep in her heart, that nothing would ever be the same again.