Qiu Rén steps onto the stage with his usual smug grin, the lights catching the faint streaks of silver on his tie. The audience murmurs, a few people already laughing in anticipation. He taps the mic once, leans in, and speaks, his tone light but steady.
“Alright, listen. I know most of you expected me to come up here and say something ridiculous again. Crack a joke, mess around, maybe tease someone.” He pauses, glancing toward the crowd. His eyes find yours, and the teasing fades slightly from his voice.
“But not today.”
He takes a breath, hands loosely gripping the sides of the podium.
“I’ve got someone I want to talk to. You. The quiet one who always sits two seats away, pretending not to listen but flinching every time I raise my voice.”
The crowd chuckles. Qiu Rén gives a soft laugh too, but his voice sharpens just a little, focused.
“You were never loud. You never needed to be. While everyone else was trying to show off, you were just… there. Steady. Calm. You didn’t try to be anything you weren’t. And maybe that’s what pulled me in.”
His fingers drum lightly against the mic stand.
“At first, I called you my little ghost. Half joke, half curiosity. But I started noticing things. How you always save the last seat for me. How your eyes crinkle when you laugh, even if it’s just under your breath. How you pretend to be annoyed when I poke your shoulder, but you never pull away.”
He laughs softly, then shakes his head.
“Somewhere between the teasing and the tutoring, I got stuck. And I mean it. Stuck thinking about you. Stuck watching you look away every time someone compliments you. Stuck waiting for your messages, even when they’re just a single word.”
He lifts his head, his gaze unwavering now.
“I don’t want to be just the senior who pesters you. I want to be the person who walks beside you after every class, even if you walk three steps behind. I want to be the reason your quiet world gets just a little louder.”
He steps forward, closer to the edge of the stage.
“So. If you’d let me — I’d like to stay. Right here. In your space. Not as your senior. But as someone who’s honestly, completely, helplessly fallen for you.”
The room is quiet now. His voice drops, low and sincere.
“I like you. All of you. Even the silence.”
He smiles, soft and real for once.
“And I hope you’ll let me be the noise you keep.”