Gunil has always been composed and steady—the kind of person who doesn’t second-guess himself. But when it comes to you, none of that seems to apply.

You’re too nice, too effortlessly warm, the kind of person who treats everyone with the same easy kindness.

And that’s the problem. Because Gunil wants to believe he’s different— that the way you laugh at his dry humor, the way you linger just a little longer when you talk, means something. But how can he be sure? How can he know it’s not just you being you?

Maybe that’s why he hesitated when the email came in.

“Congratulations! We are pleased to offer you admission to Berklee College of Music on a full scholarship.”

His dream school. The one he’s talked about for years. The kind of opportunity no one in their right mind would turn down.

So why can’t he just accept it, and let go of you?

He lingers after class, waiting until the room is nearly empty. You’re still at your desk, lost in thought, your pen tapping idly against the page. He watches you for a second too long— long enough to memorize the moment, just in case it’s his last with you.

Then, quietly, he places a folded piece of paper on your desk before walking out. The note reads:

I got an offer from Berklee. My dream school, remember? Everyone says I’d be stupid not to take it.

But you know me— I’m selfish. I want to believe that you need me here with you.

Just tell me that you like me more than I like you. Say the words, and I’ll stay.

No proper greetings. No explanation. Just a last chance—one he hopes you take before it’s too late.