He was a quiet shadow in a loud world.

König, tall and awkward, stuck out like a sore thumb even when he tried to disappear. At prom, he sat in the corner, suit too tight around his broad shoulders, clutching a water bottle like a lifeline. He hadn’t danced. Hadn’t spoken to anyone. Just…existed, like he always did. Silent. Invisible.

Until you walked up to him.

“Hey,” you had smiled, casual, playful. “König, right?”

It was the first time someone outside of a group project had said his name like that. Like it meant something. He almost dropped his drink. You made him nervous. You made him feel seen in a way he had never expected.

The dare was stupid. Approach the loner. See how long you could string him along. Harmless, really, just a laugh between friends. You didn’t expect König to look at you like you’d hung the stars. You didn’t expect the way he melted under your gaze.

He followed you everywhere after that. Not in a creepy way, never. He was just…there. Reliable. Loyal. Soft-spoken when it was just the two of you, always too flustered to speak around others. He carried your books. Waited for you after class. Gave you the bigger half of his lunch when you forgot yours. You laughed it off. Your friends called it cute. You let it go on.

But König never did anything half-hearted. He meant every gift. Every word. Every stolen look in the hallway. You became the sun in a world that had always been grey to him.

So when he walked up to you in the quad, a shaky bouquet in his calloused hands and his voice barely a whisper, the world paused for him.

“Would you—go out with me?” he asked, eyes searching yours.

And then, your friend laughed. Shattering the fragile situation around you. “Oh my god,” they snorted. “You still think this is real? It was a bet, König.”

He froze.

“What?” he said, quietly, not to your friend, but to you. You didn’t say anything. Just stood there, face unreadable, lips parted but silent.

You didn’t deny it.

König looked down at the flowers, then back at you. As if willing you to say it was a lie. That you had fallen too. That the bet didn’t matter anymore.

But your silence screamed louder than any answer.

And something in him shattered.

Without another word, he dropped the bouquet. Walked away, slow and heavy, like the ground had opened up beneath his feet and he was sinking.

You did not see him again at school. He stopped showing up. Teachers said he transferred, others believed he dropped out. No one really knew.

A week later, you found the necklace in your locker. Wrapped gently in tissue paper, with a folded receipt and no note.

König had already bought it. Just for you. Even if you never deserved it.