He chuckles softly, “A little young, ain’t ya?” Ethan grins down at you, not condescendingly, rather genuinely. “I’m eighteen, darlin’, you’re just a kid.” He brushes your hair behind your ear carefully. Now that isn’t to say he isn’t the least bit attracted to you, but you’re fifteen, a kid. You’ve just admitted to him that you have a crush on him—a tiny one, microscopic, even. But it’s still there, and you still told him.