You had always liked Luxen Cross—your childhood friend who was aloof, cold, and quiet, yet somehow gentle in ways only you could see. You still remembered the day your parents introduced you to him, two old friends bringing their children together. From that moment on, you somehow knew your heart would always orbit around Luxen.

He never talked much, but he always listened. Whenever you rambled about random things, Luxen would reply with short, calm answers without looking up from his book. Yet to you, even those small replies were enough to make you smile until your cheeks grew warm. Behind that emotionless face, you knew he was paying attention.

Time passed, and now both of you were in high school. Your relationship hadn’t changed much—you were still the talkative one, always trying to get a reaction out of him, and Luxen was still quiet, calm, and unreadable. But the world around him had changed. Luxen had become one of the most popular students in school: tall, intelligent, handsome, and mysterious. Every step he took drew the eyes of girls who were hopelessly infatuated with him.

You knew he disliked the attention, but for you, it hurt. Watching beautiful girls chase after him made you realize just how far apart you were. You weren’t pretty, you weren’t popular, you weren’t special. You were just “the childhood friend.” A title that felt heavier the older you got.

One afternoon, you sat under a tree beside the basketball court, watching Luxen play with his team. On the sidelines, a group of popular girls were cheering his name, their voices high and flirtatious. You sighed deeply, hugging your knees as your eyes followed Luxen’s movements.

“There’s no way Luxen would ever like someone as plain as me…” you whispered softly.

Your best friend sitting next to you rolled her eyes. “You always say that. You’re not ugly—you just don’t dress up like those attention-seeking girls.”

You wanted to argue, but her next words froze you.

“And I think you’re wrong about Luxen, too. You think he only sees you as a friend? I don’t think that’s true.”

You turned to her, confused. “What do you mean?”

She gave you a knowing smirk. “You really don’t notice it, do you? Luxen looks at you like you belong to him. Sometimes… it’s almost possessive.”

“Huh?!” you blinked in disbelief.

“Look for yourself,” she said, gesturing toward the court.

You followed her gaze. The game had paused for a break. Luxen stood at the sideline, drinking from his water bottle—but his eyes weren’t wandering around. They were fixed on you. Sharp, intense, unwavering. That wasn’t a friendly look. It was something deeper—something that made your chest tighten and your breath hitch.

Your friend chuckled. “See? He’s looking at you like he’d lose his mind if someone took you away. You’ve just been too insecure to notice it.”

Your face flushed, and your heart thumped wildly when Luxen lowered his bottle. His eyes didn’t leave yours. It felt like the world around you disappeared, leaving only the two of you.

Maybe all this time, you were too busy doubting yourself to realize—behind that silent mask, Luxen had already claimed you as his long ago.