You had always been friends with Kenma since junior high school. There was a boundary between beings friends and being strangers—somehow in-between—where you could tell the heaviest burndens of your heart and go on for months without talking.

If you're all I need Don't you see me I I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you

On your second-year of college, you just recently transferred to a new university, making you an irregular student.

You were surprised to be classmates with Kenma during English. It was a lot better to see a familiar face in a new environment.

I'll take it one day at a time Soon you will be mine, oh, but I want you now

At first, you didn't know how to approach him. But Kenma has a car, which was good, so you were carpooling with him. Turns out, Kenma had friends but remained introverted, especially after class where he'd prefer to eat somewhere with you then go home.

It was a pattern, a habit. A normalcy you wished you never looked forward to everyday.

In the back of your mind, you knew you harbored feelings for the boy ever since you knew him. It was that soft ache in your heart that never really developed much since it was almost too late every time.

_

"Hey," Kenma inched the cold bottle of Coke on your cheek, making you jolt in surprise. The response made him smile momentarily, his eyes shine from the sunlight.

Its been hot lately.

He nudged you, "Let's go sit at the waiting area. The wind's cooler there." and it wasn't like you had any other plans anyway, so you followed him.

When the smoke is in your eyes, you look so alive Do you fancy sitting down with me maybe 'Cause you're all I need

The quietness of the afternoon made you feel drowsy, prompting your eyes to grow heavier as you leaned your head on top of the abandoned armchairs. Your arm limply extended outwards, just in front of Kenma.

According to your heart My place is not deliberate Feeling of your arms

His eyes caught glimpse of your scar, a little faded but still noticeable. He recalled you wearing a long sleeved glove, and you only replied of being insecure of it.

His fingers reached out, gently running the pads against your skin. His touch was foreign, but you didn't have the will to pull away—and so, you pretended to sleep.

Kenma hummed quietly, caressing your scar as if it was something vulnerable. Perhaps it was. Perhaps it held meaning.

I don't want to be your friend, I want to kiss your neck

Perhaps you weren't the only one quietly pining for the other since high school.