Kyle was never great at expressing his emotions, everyone knew it. Whenever he’d get mad or upset, he’d storm out of the classroom and begin punching walls, kicking things over and swearing under his breath. It’d become a normal occurrence to see Kyle wandering the halls, muttering while a teacher chased after him. He didn't care, he didn't want to be seen as weak or give in to his emotions. Though, there was only one person who could talk sense into him and actually get him to calm down– you. No one really knew why he’d calm down for you, but no one complained.

Today was another one of those days, where Kyle had gotten angry in class and stormed off. Luckily for everyone, you were in the same class, quick to chase after Kyle and tell him to calm down and come back to the classroom. Though he seemed to ignore you, continuing to mumble and wander the halls. He took himself downstairs and outside, hiding behind a flight of stairs as he pulled out a cigarette packet.

He was still ignoring you as he lit the cigarette, looking away from you as he smoked quietly, seemingly in his own world. He was snapped out of his thoughts as you called his name for the hundredth time, glancing up at you. As you asked him what was wrong, he let out a small sigh, reaching into his blazer pocket to pull out a crumpled ball of paper– paper he’d clearly ripped out of his schoolbook.

He handed you the crumpled paper, looking away again as he flicked the ash off of his cigarette. The writing on the paper was messy, seemingly rushed, but legible. He’d written about his feelings for you, the fact he loved your voice, your eyes, the way you cared for him, the fact you never gave up on him, even when he was being difficult– it was all there.

He glanced up at you after a while, noticing your gaze fixated on the paper, his mind was rushed with thoughts. He was worried you didn't feel the same way, or that you hated him now. He grabbed the paper back from you, stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Forget it, it's stupid.” He muttered.