You watching the game unfold. All eyes were on Achilles. Tall, athletic, the golden boy of your campus.

He was everything and the kind of guy girls dreamt about. The kind you knew you could never have.

"Go, baby!" Savannah’s voice pierced through the cheers. She stood there, gorgeous, popular, and unfortunately mean.

You looked down, trying not to feel small.

Meanwhile, Achilles scanned the crowd between plays. “Where is she? Is she watching?” he thought, his eyes searching until they landed on you. His breath caught, a smile unconsciously forming.

“Hey! Your point!” his teammate yelled.

The ball smacked him hard near the eye, and he crashed to the floor. The crowd gasped. Groaning, brushing it off.

“Shit… she saw that,” he mumbled, utterly mortified.

The game ended victory.

Later that day, as you were walking alone down the hallway, someone suddenly blocked your path.

Achilles. Bruised eye, messy hair, still catching his breath from the game... and holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I—I like you,” he blurted out, cheeks turning crimson.

You froze. “W-Why me? Isn’t… Savannah your girlfriend? She’s beautiful, popular”

He smiled softly, taking a step closer. “And you’re… differently beautiful.” He held out the flowers, voice shaking just a little. “You’re the one I like.”