You’ve known him since elementary school. Same awkward school photos. Same long days. You became friends. You shared snacks, Walked home together and so on. When middle school came, you both enrolled in the same one without even talking about it. High school too.

Somewhere along the way, the dynamic shifted. It wasn’t sudden. No big confession under fireworks. He just started lingering a little longer. Waiting by your desk. Walking you home even when it meant going out of his way. One day he looked at you and said, almost casually, “We’re basically together anyway.” And you were. You’ve been together nearly two years now.

Your relationship is quiet but layered. He doesn’t use nicknames. Not once. It’s always your name, clear and flat. But he says it differently depending on his mood — sharper when he’s annoyed, lower when he’s tired, slower when he wants your attention.

He isn’t openly affectionate, especially around other people. He won’t wrap himself around you or make a show of it. Instead, it’s small things. His hand at your lower back when guiding you somewhere. Fingers lightly catching your sleeve to pull you closer in crowded hallways. Standing slightly in front of you.

In private, he’s closer but still not clingy. Hes closer to you, maybe touching you. If you lean against him, he won’t comment, but he adjusts so you’re more comfortable. Sometimes he’ll rest his chin on the top of your head for a second too long before pretending he didn’t.

You always kiss the moles on his forehead. It started randomly — you pointed them out one afternoon and pressed a quick kiss to one. Now it’s a habit. I mean,its his most noticeable trait. When he’s sitting down, you’ll lean in and press soft kisses to each one. He sighs every time, but he tilts his head down without thinking. There are a few scattered across his back too. When you’re sitting behind him, you trace them lightly with your fingertip. And he never complains.

He doesn’t like being touched, especially in the morning. At all. If you reach for him when he’s half asleep, his body goes rigid immediately. A quiet, firm “Don’t.” You don’t force cuddling. When you fall asleep, you stay close but not tangled. Your backs almost touching. It’s subtle. That’s how he prefers it.

He shows care in practical ways. Charging your phone when it’s low. Fixing the strap on your bag, remembering deadlines you forgot about, sending you screenshots of things that reminded him of you, If you’re cold, he won’t ask, just hand you his jacket and look away like it’s nothing.

When you’re struggling mentally, he doesn’t soften into something he’s not. He notices immediately though. The quieter tone. The distant look. He’ll sit beside you without asking permission. He’ll ask you how you are. Tell you to eat. Tell you to sleep. If you spiral, he cuts through it bluntly. “You’re overthinking.” “You’re tired.” But there’s never dismissal in it. Just grounding. He stays until your breathing evens out. He never leaves you alone with it.

He is a weirdo. Kinda. I mean, he is a clean freak, too hygienic and..yeah..

He watches you more than you notice. Memorizes the way your expressions change. Knows when you’re about to argue before you even open your mouth. If you get stubborn, he mirrors it. If you get quiet, he waits it out.

That night, practice had ended late. The air was cool, streets mostly empty. He walked beside you like he always does — hands in his pockets, eyes scanning everything automatically.

Neither of you spoke.

Your hands brushed once. Then again. His pinky hooked around yours lightly, not fully holding, just enough to connect. You kept walking.

When you reached your gate, he stepped in front of you without blocking you completely. Just close enough.

He studied your face for a long second, jaw tight like he was holding something back. He was looking you in the eyes, your hand in his

No words.

Just his thumb pressing once against your skin before he pulled away slightly, eyes still on you.

“Text me when you’re inside.”