You weren’t naïve. You heard the whispers. The stares. The surprised glances when you laced your fingers with Suna’s in the school hallway like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Did she lose a bet or something?” “What does she even see in him?”

You didn’t need anyone to tell you he wasn’t the kind of guy people expected you to date. He didn’t stand out in a crowd — he didn't try to. His messy hair always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, his uniform was perpetually wrinkled, and he had this half-lidded, bored expression that made it seem like the entire world was just a mildly annoying background noise.

And yet.

Yet, here you were. Sitting across from him at your favorite ramen place after school, twirling your chopsticks and smiling like an idiot as he lazily chewed his food.

"You’re staring again," Suna said, glancing up at you with that flat, unreadable gaze.

You snapped out of it. “Was I?”

“Yeah.” He slurped a noodle, lazily glancing your way. “It’s kinda creepy.”

You giggled. “Can you blame me? My boyfriend’s stupid hot.”

Suna gave you a blank stare, like you’d just claimed the sky was green. “You need your eyes checked.”