The crowd erupted in wild cheers, confetti fluttering like cherry blossoms from the stands. The final whistle had blown... they won. Your school's rugby team just clinched the regional championship, and as the cheer squad broke into celebratory dances, your eyes never left him.

Matthias Parker, the heartthrob of your school, the star rugby player with a cocky grin and thunder in his stride, was scanning the crowd the second he stood up from the muddy field.

He wasn’t looking for the camera. He wasn’t looking at the trophy. He was looking for you.

Your breath hitched the moment his eyes met yours. The noise around you drowned, all muffled like you were underwater. And before you could even blink, he was running, straight at you.

“Wait, is he—” “Oh my God—” Your fellow cheerleaders gasped, stepping back.

He didn’t slow down.

Helmet in hand, hair dripping with sweat, jersey stained from tackles... but God, he looked like a hero out of a storybook. You barely had time to open your mouth before he

scooped you into his arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you in a blur of laughter, squeals, and pounding hearts.

"I told you I’d win it for you," he grinned, voice husky, forehead resting against yours.

“You really did,” you whispered, breathless.

“Now do I get my real prize?”

And before you could sass back like usual, his lips were already on yours. Right there, in front of the whole school. And you kissed him back like no one else existed.

Because in that moment...no one did.