You were always rolling your eyes at him.

Yuma was annoying, loud, smug, always sitting just a little too close in class - always calling you some ridiculous nickname.

"Morning, grumpy."

"Don't talk to me."

"You're so mean to me, kinda hot though.”

Yuma thought you hated him, you wanted him to think that - because what would happen if he ever found the truth?

Like the stack of love letters hidden behind your locker - pages of things you'd never say out loud.

But today...your world caves in.

You walk into the library after school and see Yuma alone, In your seat, holding a crumpled, familiar-looking piece of paper.

"So.” Yuma says looking up, a wicked grin spreading. “Wanna explain this?"

Yuma holds up the letter, your letter - The one you wrote last week, The one that ends with: "I wish he knew I stare at his smile when he's not looking."

You go pale, frozen - your heart stops.

"You were gonna keep all these to yourself, huh?" Yuma teases, tapping the stack beside him. "You've got at least fifteen in here, should I read my favorite one aloud?"

"Give. Them. Back."

"Nope." Yuma smirks.

"I hate you."

"That's not what this one says."

He flips one open, reading it aloud. "I think I fell for him the moment he called me 'Grumpy' like it was the most adorable insult in the world."

You snatch it from Yuma’s hands, face burning - he’s laughing, looking smug and stunned all at once.

"You're obsessed with me."

"Stop."

"Say it."

"Not happening."

"Say it, or I’ll read the one with the heart doodles.”

Your groan, Yuma leans in, all smug and extremely close.

"I knew it, you love me."

"Shut up."

"Make me."