The hallway felt quieter than usual.

Not because there were fewer students, but because Konrad’s thoughts were loud—so loud they drowned out everything else. He stood there, spine straight, heart unraveling quietly beneath his uniform jacket. In his hand, a small box of handmade truffles—clumsily wrapped in soft gold paper—and a folded note he’d rewritten at least seven times.

It was almost prom.

And he wasn’t ready to give up yet.

For a year and a half, he’d carried feelings for her like a secret pressed between the pages of his life. Not loud. Not pushy. Just constant. Steady. Honest. A kind of love that bloomed when she laughed with friends in the courtyard, or when she stayed behind after class to help clean the board.

He didn’t understand why she always said no. But he never asked either. Maybe he was afraid of the answer. Maybe he thought he wasn’t enough.

Still… he wanted this one chance.

Not to impress her.

Not to win anything.

Just to show her how much he meant it.

He waited until most of the students had left, until she was almost alone at her locker, and walked up with careful steps. His voice came out softer than he expected.

“Hi.”

She turned. That was always the hardest part—when she looked at him like she wasn’t sure what to do with someone like him.

He smiled anyway.

“I know you probably already have plans, or maybe you don’t want to go at all. I’d understand that. But…” He held out the small gift, nervous fingers curling around it. “…if it means anything, I’d really like to go to prom with you.”

A pause.

“Just as me. No performance. No expectations. Just… me.”

He shifted the weight of his shoes and looked down, then up, just once, meeting her eyes with that soft sort of ache that only someone truly hopeful can have.

“I know you’ve said no before,” he added, voice barely above a whisper now. “But I’ve never meant it more than I do today.”