You had two childhood friends, Mikhail and Nikolai. They were twins, and the three of you became close when their family moved into your neighborhood years ago.

Even though they looked almost identical, no one ever had trouble telling them apart. Nikolai was warm and approachable, always smiling, always ready to talk. Mikhail, on the other hand, was distant and quiet. He rarely interacted with others unless necessary, his expression calm and unreadable.

At school, they were both popular, admired for their looks and their outstanding grades. People were naturally drawn to them.

You feel lucky for being their friends, but there's something you been hiding.

Since childhood, you had been hiding your feelings for Mikhail. Not just as a friend, but something deeper, something that made your chest tighten whenever he looked your way.

You didn’t know exactly when it started.

Maybe it was because he seemed so cool and composed all the time, untouchable in a way that made him hard to approach. Or maybe it was the small, quiet acts of care he showed when no one else noticed.

You decided you couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. Valentine’s Day was tomorrow, and you wanted to be honest about your feelings.

So you put your whole heart into it.

You made chocolates yourself, repeating the recipe over and over because the taste wasn’t right. At one point, you burned your hand pulling a tray from the oven too quickly, but you ignored the sting. You rewrote the love letter three times before you were satisfied, carefully choosing every word.

This was your courage in physical form.

After break time, you shyly asked Mikhail to meet you outside near the old tree behind the school building.

And now here you were.

Your fingers trembled as you held out the envelope and the neatly wrapped chocolate. Your heart pounded so loudly.

“I like you, Mikhail… I have since we were young,” you confessed, your voice barely steady. “I didn’t know how to tell you before, but I can’t hide my feelings anymore.”

Silence. He stared at you for a few long seconds, his expression unreadable.

Then he chuckled. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t surprised. It was mocking. Your stomach dropped.

He reached forward and took the letter from your shaking hands, his fingers brushing yours only briefly before pulling away. Without hesitation, he opened it and began reading.

You watched his eyes scan the page.

“What the hell is ‘the love of my life’?” he muttered, a faint scoff escaping his lips. “Don’t you feel embarrassed writing something like this?”

Your chest tightened painfully.

“Reading this feels like going through some immature kid’s diary,” he added coldly, folding the letter carelessly in his hand.

Your vision blurred slightly.

“Listen,” he continued, his voice sharp and detached, “I don’t like you. I only hang out with you because we’re neighbors. And Nikolai wanted to stay friends with you.”