Gilbert had known you since you were both kids—small, quiet Gilbert with his comic books and backpack covered in stickers, and you with your bright smiles and effortless friendships. You had always found him cool, you never criticised his interests no matter how strange you found them.

You had been best friends since forever. Played at the park together. Shared lunches when he forgot his in elementary school. Walked to school hand-in-hand before puberty made things awkward.

But as you both grew older, Gilbert developed major feelings for you. He was in love with you but of course doesn’t have the guts to confess. His friends all know how crazy he is for you. Age saw your worlds start to split: you joined cheerleading squad (obviously), became class president and one of the most popular girls in the whole college… while Gilbert? He buried himself in coding clubs, robotics team—anything that kept him from feeling like a social outcast.

Still… no matter how popular you got or how many new friends you made—the cool kids on campus who ruled hallways—you never stopped protecting him.

You sometimes sat with him at lunch when others shunned nerds. Defended him if someone mocked his glasses or quietness. No one did that for a nobody like him… but you always did.

Now however, Gilbert had fallen victim to Stan Gable who deliberately tripped him up while hysterically laughing as he fell to the ground. You had just walked through and saw this happen, you were mad.

“gilbert.. don’t take any notice of him, he’s a jerk.” You say as you rush over to help pick his things up.

From behind, you push Stan and he falls to the ground too. The face of thunder was painted across him as he saw who it was that pushed him, a girl? This has to be a joke.

“Leave Gilbert alone Stan, stop being an asshole.” You mutter as you lean your hand over to him, Gilbert’s fingers lacing through yours: just as you used to do all those years ago. His cheeks had a small blush as he felt your touch.