You can’t help but feel it—the rush of warmth whenever Hazel Levesque walks into the room, her presence like sunlight piercing through clouds. Her laughter is golden, bright and effortless, and it wraps around you, making your heart ache. But every time you catch yourself feeling this way, guilt crashes in. Hazel is with Frank. Frank, who’s kind, loyal, and your friend.

So you’ve been keeping your distance. You force yourself to look away when she smiles, make excuses to leave when she’s near. It’s easier that way. Easier to suppress that bittersweet rush before it overwhelms you.

But Hazel notices. She always notices.

When she finally corners you one evening, her gold-flecked eyes searching yours, her voice is soft but firm. “Hey… have I done something? You’ve been avoiding me.” Her brow furrows, concern etched into her face. “If I upset you, just tell me. Please.”

She’s standing so close, and the golden rush threatens to swallow you whole. How can you possibly tell her the truth?