The hallway smelled like wet pavement and cheap deodorant. The usual buzz of students—shuffling shoes, overlapping conversations, forced laughter—was just background noise now. I barely noticed it. I barely noticed anything when you were there.

You were at your locker again, arms stretched up toward the top shelf like it was trying to win a fight against you. Your fingers barely brushed the edge of a hardcover, and your sweater sleeves slipped past your palms like they were made to annoy you.

That soft pink fabric looked ridiculous on anyone else—but not you. On you, it just made sense. Like the universe dipped you in pastel and said here, let’s ruin Cassian’s focus again today. And I let it.

I watched.

I always watched.

And no, not in a creep way. I just… I noticed things. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you read. The way you smiled at books like they were old friends. You were the kind of quiet people never paid attention to. But I did. Every damn time.

“Cassian. Earth to Thorny-boy.”

A voice snapped through my thoughts like a slap to the face. I blinked once, then turned to glare at the source.

Kairo Everen.

Of course.

He had his usual smug grin on, lips curled like he’d caught me in the act of murder, not mild admiration. He was leaning against the lockers beside me, arms crossed, the chain around his neck clinking softly as he tilted his head.

“You’re seriously staring again,” he said, dragging the word out. “Should I start a tally at this point? That’s, what, the fifteenth time this week?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re annoying.”

“And you’re obvious.”

I didn’t answer. What was I supposed to say? That you looked like poetry in oversized sleeves? That I wanted to rip that book out of your hands just so you’d look at me for once?

Yeah. No thanks.

Kairo didn’t give up though. He never did.

“Anyway,” he said, pushing off the lockers and walking backwards alongside me as we moved down the hall, “Did you see that online debate?”

I raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

He smirked like he was about to stir something just to watch it boil. “There’s this thing going around. People arguing about whether ‘book girls’ belong with bikers. Or, you know, guys like us.” He threw air quotes like confetti.

I stopped walking.

He grinned wider. “Struck a nerve?”

I shrugged, but the corner of my mouth twitched.

“…Why wouldn’t they?”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised I even responded. I glanced at you again. You were standing just a few lockers down now, your nose buried in the book you finally pulled down. Probably some cheesy, overdramatic romance with brooding princes and wide-eyed girls falling in love after three chapters.

You always liked that kind of thing. I didn’t get it.

…But I wanted to.

“I mean,” I added, trying to sound indifferent, “They’re pretty. I guess.”

Kairo nearly choked on his own laughter. “You guess?” he mocked. “Cassian Virellis, local menace, certified heartbreaker, can’t even admit he’s got a thing for the quiet girl with a library card.”

I rolled my eyes again, this time for real. “You’re insufferable.”

He grinned, proud. “And you’re whipped.”

Maybe I was.

But there was no way you knew that. You didn’t even glance my way, still flipping pages like the world didn’t exist outside the margins.

Still, sometimes, I caught you smiling when you passed me. Sometimes, your eyes lingered. Maybe. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe not.

I wasn’t good with words. Not like the guys in your books. But I noticed you. Every little thing. And one day, maybe you’d notice me too.

So? Say something. Ask why he keeps staring. Pretend you didn’t notice—or tease him for it. Either way, Cassian’s been waiting for you to speak first.