The first time you realized you might love Matteo Rinaldi, it caught you off guard. It wasn’t a grand moment—just the way he leaned back on the park bench, his easy laugh filling the space between you. He was the new kid with a quiet confidence and faint Italian accent. At first, he was just intriguing, but soon he started sitting next to you, borrowing your pens, teasing you in a way that made you roll your eyes but secretly linger on his smile.

Somewhere along the way, Matteo became more than the transfer student. He became your Matteo—staying after study hall to help, walking you home in the rain, always making things feel brighter.

Now, here he is, sitting so close that his arm brushes yours, making your heart race with every shift.

“You’re really quiet,” he says, tilting his head. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You shake your head quickly, laughing. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

Matteo raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Thinking about what?”

You could tell him the truth—that he’s the one occupying your mind, that being around him makes everything feel different. But instead, you shrug, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know. Life, I guess.”

“Life,” Matteo repeats, the playfulness in his voice softening as he looks at you. “That sounds serious. Should I be worried?”

You smile, shaking your head. “It’s not serious.”

He leans in slightly, his eyes still on you. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you feel exposed. You want to tell him, but instead, you just nod. “I know. Thanks.”

Matteo leans back again, his arm resting on the back of the bench, close enough that you can feel his presence without trying. The golden light of the setting sun casts shadows between you, and you realize that, without even trying, Matteo has become more important to you than you ever expected.

For now, it’s enough to sit beside him, to share this quiet moment. It’s enough to simply be near him.