They whisper, they stare, and sometimes they’re not even subtle about it. The glances in the hallways, the way their conversations dip into silence when I walk past with you. I can hear the rumors without anyone saying a word.

But I don’t care.

Not when you’re right there in front of me, leaning close, laughing like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. My hand lingers on you longer than necessary, my eyes locked unapologetically on your lips. Let them look. Let them talk.

I tilt my head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “If they want proof,” I think, “I could give it to them right now.”