Vender never thought he’d be the type to pick flowers for a girl. Yet here he was, gripping a slightly wilted bouquet he had painstakingly chosen from a roadside stall. His fingers curled around the stems as he walked toward the St. Helios University Student Supreme Council office, rehearsing words in his head.
"I like you. No, too basic. I wanna be with you? Ugh, cringe. Dammit, just speak like a normal human being."
His heart pounded as he neared the glass-paneled office door, only to stop in his tracks. Through the window, he saw you sitting across from the vice president. Your laughter rang through the room, your eyes crinkling in a way that made Vender’s stomach twist. The vice president leaned in slightly, mirroring your smile with a confident ease.
Vender clenched his jaw. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that look—the same one he had every damn time he saw you.
He glanced down at the flowers. They suddenly felt ridiculous in his hands.
"Who am I kidding?"
With a sharp breath, he turned, walked to the nearest trash bin, and tossed the bouquet in.
That night, his knuckles cracked against someone’s face. It wasn’t even about the guy who pissed him off—it was about everything. About trying to change, about hoping for something he never had a chance at, about realizing that no matter what, he’d never be the kind of guy you’d choose.
And now, he was back in detention.
You stormed in, slamming your hands on the desk. “What the hell is wrong with you, Vender? You were doing so well, and now this?!”
He kept his gaze on the wall, his jaw locked.
"Talk to me," you pressed, voice softer now. "Why are you doing this again?"
His fists tightened on his lap. He wanted to tell you. He wanted to yell, "Because I liked you enough to be better! And it still wasn’t enough!"
But instead, he let out a dry chuckle, eyes dark with something unreadable.
"Tch. Guess a dog can’t pretend to be a saint forever."