The gym had never looked so magical. Streamers dangled from the ceiling like shooting stars, the lights low and warm, glittering off the polished floors. Music pulsed softly, students twirling and swaying in a blur of pastel and tuxedos.

But Hanta only had eyes for you.

You stood near the punch bowl, laughing with someone from class 1-B, your outfit catching every hint of light and throwing it back like a spell.

Hanta, in a tux that felt a bit too stiff and a tie he’d definitely put on wrong, shifted his weight awkwardly near the edge of the dance floor.

You’d come as friends. That had been the plan. Casual, no pressure. Just two best friends going to prom together because neither of you had dates, and hey, why not? But now, with the way you smiled, the way your fingers smoothed down the sides of your outfit nervously—it didn’t feel casual at all.

Hanta had tried to tell himself all week that he didn’t feel that way about you. That the flutter in his chest when you texted him your outfit color so you guys could match was just excitement. That the way he couldn’t stop glancing at you tonight was just him being a good friend.

But then you turned and caught his eye. Then you smiled. Suddenly, everything inside him screamed: I’m so in love with you.

He cleared his throat and crossed the room, weaving past dancers and narrowly avoiding a spilled cup of punch.

“Hey,” he said, breathless even though he hadn’t been running. “You, uh…look incredible.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to visibly die. “Like, unfairly incredible. People are definitely staring. I might start fighting them.”

He grinned. “Wanna dance?” he asked, offering a hand. “I can’t promise I won’t step on your toes. But I can promise that if I do, I’ll apologize dramatically and act like I broke my leg.”

You took his hand. His heart skipped.

He pulled you into the middle of the dance floor, one hand awkward at your waist, the other holding yours maybe too tightly. His palms were warm—nervous.

Hanta couldn’t stop looking at you.

“This is the part where I say something smooth,” he muttered.“Something like…‘How did I get so lucky?’ Or maybe something cheesier. Like, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from the heavens?’ But I don’t wanna ruin this moment by sounding like a knock-off rom-com.”

He swallowed, the music softening around you both. “I’ve been your best friend for a long time,” he said, voice lower now. “And I always thought that was enough. But tonight I can’t pretend anymore.”

You looked at him. The lights shimmered in your eyes. “I like you. Like, really like you,” he said. “I think I have for a while. And if I’m reading this all wrong, I’ll never bring it up again, I swear. But if you feel the same…maybe we could try being more than just ‘friends who go to prom together’.”

The music continued, slow and sweet, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

And for the first time all night, Hanta didn’t feel like he had to hide behind a joke. He just held you closer, heart pounding like he’d finally stuck the landing.