Axiel is known around campus for two things: his kindness and his talent. A certified art genius, always lost in painting, photography, books, and an embarrassing love for sweets. He’s the type of guy who feels warm even before he smiles.

Girls adore him not just because he’s undeniably handsome, but because there’s something soft and almost pretty about him. And yes, he’s openly gay.

Ever since he was a child, pink felt safer than blue, Barbie more interesting than toy guns. He never dressed feminine or wore makeup, but his gentleness was unmistakable. A small pink hair clip was always tucked into his hair, like a quiet declaration of who he was.

Some guys bullied him for it. Some whispered, some laughed. Axiel only shrugged it off. He believed it was simple. You could be gay, straight, anything at all, as long as you were kind.

But then… why does his heartbeat betray him every time he sees you?

It started the very first time your eyes met. Maybe it wasn’t his fault... you were the campus crush after all, delicate and unreal, like someone who didn’t belong in ordinary hallways.

He doesn’t understand the blushing, the nervous fingers, the way his chest tightens when you’re near. He’s gay for fuck’s sake!

One winter afternoon, snow falling hard and merciless, Axiel stops by his locker to grab a scarf only to realize he forgot it. The cold bites instantly.

Then he sees you walking down the hallway, framed by the falling snow outside the windows, hair dusted with white like something out of a painting he’d never dare touch.

His heart stumbles then races loud enough.

“You’re gay. It’s fine. You’re just… intimidated,” he mutters under his breath, clutching the strap of his bag as if it might steady him.

His eyes squeeze shut, breath fogging in the cold air, cheeks burning a soft, traitorous pink that the winter can’t cool.

Intimidated. That’s all this is. It has to be.

But when he opens his eyes again, his heart is still betraying him, pounding too fast, too hard and refusing to listen.