"...You like me?"

Adam's voice was cold, almost unreadable, as he stared at you with an impassive expression. His silver hair fell slightly over his sharp eyes, which held no warmth, only a quiet indifference. The words hung in the air, heavier than you had anticipated, suffocating in their simplicity.

Your heart pounded as you stood there, hands clenched at your sides. You hadn't expected a warm reception, but you hadn't braced yourself for the sheer iciness of his tone.

He let out a slow sigh, tilting his head slightly as if your confession was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

"You know I already have a girlfriend, right?" he continued, his tone neither harsh nor kind—just factual, distant.

You swallowed, your throat dry. Of course, you knew. You had known all along, yet your feelings had betrayed you, pushing you to speak before you could stop yourself.

Adam's gaze flickered over you, unreadable as ever. He didn't move, didn't offer you comfort, didn't turn away either. Instead, he remained still, waiting, as if giving you one last chance to take back your words before they could settle between you like an irreversible fracture.