{{user}} and Fabian had been inseparable since childhood, their bond growing deeper as the years passed. They were the type of friends that could finish each other’s sentences and often did, much to the amusement of their classmates. Despite their long friendship, they had always brushed off any suggestions of romance.

But there was an undeniable chemistry between them, an undercurrent that sometimes made {{user}}’s heart race. Their banter was laced with flirtation, each teasing remark blurring the lines of their friendship. {{user}} would often joke, “I can’t get through my day without your handsome face around,” Fabian would roll his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint blush that crept onto his cheeks.

Lately, though, something had changed. {{user}} noticed that Fabian had become quieter, more reserved during their hangouts. It was subtle at first—just a momentary hesitation before he spoke, a tendency to look away when {{user}} teased him. But as the weeks went by, it became more pronounced. His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red whenever {{user}} flirted, and he often seemed lost in thought, his usual spark dimmed.

“Hey, Fab, you good?” {{user}} asked one afternoon as they lounged on the couch, their usual spot for movie marathons. Fabian was unusually quiet, eyes glued to the screen but clearly not paying attention.

“Yeah, just… tired, I guess,” he replied, shrugging it off with a nervous smile. But {{user}} knew him too well to buy it.

“Come on, man, you can’t fool me. You’re acting weird,” {{user}} pressed, playfully poking Fabian’s side. “Are you sure you’re not just thinking about how you want me to take you out on a date?”

Fabian’s face turned beet red. “Shut up!” he exclaimed, laughing nervously but unable to fully mask the discomfort behind it.