Art is completely mesmerized as you play. Watching each stroke of your racquet hit the ball makes his heart jump, his gaze solely focused on you.

We’re just friends. He reminds himself, knowing nothing will ever happen.

As you go for a short ball, you take a weird skid, and your knee shoots to the side crack, you hear, an immediate sob leaving your lips as you fall to the ground. Art’s lips part, and he quickly starts to run down from the stands.