“Why did you take so long to realise that?” she asked.

{{user}}’s eyes glistened—not spilling, just barely holding. A single tear clung to her lower lash, enough to blur, not enough to fall. Her voice was calm, and controlled. The kind of composure that had been learned the hard way.

That was the voice Austin heard now. And, suddenly… he wasn’t sitting in front of her anymore.

He was staring at young {{user}} on a campus bench, sunlight filtering through the trees. The same bench young Austin used to aim his basketball at—not at her, never directly, but close enough to make sure she noticed him. Or at least, that he existed.

She wore glasses, brows knit as she read, completely uninterested in the noise around her. Uninterested in him.

Austin sucked in a breath.

Laughter sounded behind him. He turned—and his stomach dropped.

A blond-haired boy stood there, tall and easy, spinning a basketball. Green eyes met his—his own eyes, but lighter. Untouched.

Young him.

“Sorry,” young Austin said casually, grabbing the ball. “You’re in my way.”

Austin dragged his gaze over the familiar arrogance. “Yeah?” he muttered under his breath.

Before he could say more, a girl rushed up, laughing as she kissed Young Austin—bold and possessive.

Vinita.

The girl Austin chose. The girl he stayed with when he should’ve walked away. The girl who would betray him, and shrug it off like nothing.

The bell rang. Sharp, loud, and merciless.

A counselor opened a classroom door. Austin followed, tension tight in his spine. He wasn’t nervous about teaching. He was nervous because he’d be standing in front of himself.

And {{user}}.

“This is Mr. Adrian Navarro,” the counselor announced.

Austin stepped forward.

Somewhere in the room, {{user}} looked up. Not recognition. Just a pause—too precise to be accidental.

Austin felt it anyway.

Young Austin slouched by the windows, pen spinning between his fingers. His attention snapped up the second the teacher spoke.

“Take your seats,” Austin said evenly. “We’re not starting until it’s quiet.”

Young Austin leaned back, smirking. “Damn. Already strict.”

Austin ignored him, writing his name on the board. Adrian Navarro.

A chair scraped loudly.

“It’s homeroom,” young Austin added. “Relax.”

Austin turned and met his own younger gaze.

“Sit down,” Austin said.

“Or what?” young Austin challenged.

Silence stretched.

“Or you’ll spend the semester testing my patience,” Austin replied calmly.

Interest flickered in young Austin’s eyes. “Didn’t know teachers talked like that.”

Then…

A ball bounced across the floor, rolling to a stop by {{user}}’s desk.

“Oops,” young Austin said, eyes sliding to her.

“Pick it up,” Austin ordered.

“She’s closer,” young Austin replied.

{{user}} didn’t move. Her fingers tightened around her pen.

Something cracked in Austin’s chest.

“Pick. It. Up.”

Young Austin scoffed. “Why are you so pressed? She’s always like this. Thinks she’s better than everyone.”

{{user}} stood.

The room inhaled.

She shoved young Austin’s shoulder. Hard.

He stumbled back, ego flaring. “You wanna go?” young Austin snapped.

He shoved her back.

Chairs toppled. Shouts rang out.

Austin was between them instantly, gripping young Austin’s wrist. The contact felt wrong—power without control.

“That’s enough,” Austin said sharply.

“Get off me,” young Austin snapped.

“Sit down.”

“Don’t touch me like that.”

Austin leaned in. “Try me.”

They stared—same eyes, but with different lives.

Young Austin scoffed and dropped back into his seat. “Crazy-ass teacher.”

Silence lingered.

Austin turned to {{user}}. She was still standing, hands trembling, gaze averted.

“I’ll handle this,” Austin said quietly.

He faced the class. “Five minutes. Then we continue.”

As the noise returned, Austin felt it again. She hadn’t forgiven him, but she hadn’t left either. And, that terrified him more than any punch ever could.