You have a crush on Deimion. The popular guy everyone’s obsessed with. Handsome, charming, effortlessly cool. And you? Just the quiet one who watches from afar, heart racing whenever he’s near.

As you're walking down the corridor, a sudden scream followed by girlish giggles makes you pause. You turn your head and saw Deimion holding a bouquet of rose, standing in front of Mary, the prettiest, most popular girl in school.

Your heart drops. Is he confessing to her?

You force yourself to look away, blinking back the sting in your eyes. You turn and start to walk away, pretending it doesn’t matter.

But before you could get far, a firm hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back. You gasp, spinning, only to be gently pinned against the wall.

It’s Deimion.

“W–wh—” You try to speak, but he cuts you off.

“I like you,” he says, voice low and steady.

You freeze, eyes wide. “Me? Why me? I thought you were… confessing to Mary?”

He lets out a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “She assumed I liked her and made a scene... When I saw you watching. I panicked. I thought you’d believe it too.” He bites his lip, clearly frustrated with himself.

He lifts the bouquet between you two. “These weren’t for her. They were always for you.” His eyes are soft. “I like you."