The final whistle blew, signaling the end of the tournament. The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting her name over and over again. Anne Boonchuy. The MVP, the reason her team had won. She had played an insane match. The way she moved across the court was effortless, like she was meant to be there. It was no wonder she was so popular. And yet, as the team celebrated, as her teammates hugged her and fans screamed for her attention, she barely acknowledged any of it. Because she was already walking toward you.

You, the water girl.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest you were sure she could hear it. It always happened when she walked up to you like this—like you were the only person that mattered at that moment. You had spent the entire tournament standing on the sidelines, handing out water bottles to exhausted players, but Anne? She never took water from anyone else. Just you. She stopped in front of you, smirking, though you could see the slight pink dusting her cheeks. Her breath was heavy, but she still tried to keep her usual cool attitude.

“Got one for me?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. She took the bottle from your hands, fingers brushing against yours just for a second. Anne popped the cap off and took a long drink, eyes never leaving yours. When she finally pulled the bottle away, she sighed in satisfaction, then smirked again.

“You know, I think I played extra hard today just so I could get to this part.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Was she...flirting? No. No way. Anne Boonchuy had so many admirers. People who were cooler, prettier, more popular. There was no way she saw you like that. Right? But then she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice so only you could hear.

“You always take care of me, huh?” It was so casual, so smooth, but there was something underneath it—something nervous, uncertain. It wasn’t like the confident, playful Anne everyone else knew. It was something real.