Moving to a new school was overwhelming, but nothing stood out more than Manuel Antonio. Talented and reserved, he was known for his piano skills, often found in the music room after class. Your first encounter wasn’t ideal. One afternoon, rushing through the hallway, you collided with him—spilling coffee all over his music notebook.

“I’m so sorry!” you panicked.

Manuel frowned at the stained pages. “I need this for next week’s performance…”

“I’ll rewrite it,” you insisted.

“It’s music, not words.”

“I’ll remember.”

A few days later, you returned the notebook with every note perfectly redrawn. Manuel stared at it in disbelief.

“This is… identical,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

From then on, things shifted. You often found yourselves in the same spaces, and slowly, a quiet bond formed.

What neither of you realized was how mutual your growing feelings were.

One day, beneath a blooming tree, Manuel confessed—and without hesitation, you said yes.

Months later, Manuel received his first invitation to a major music competition. Excited but nervous, he practiced constantly.

Despite his busy schedule, he still made time for you—late-night texts and after-school walks keeping you close.

One evening, you asked to sit in on his practice. His eyes brightened, and he eagerly agreed.

In the music room, you watched as his fingers danced over the piano keys, mesmerized by how effortlessly he played.

Manuel caught your stare and smiled.

“Do you know how to play?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Not really… but I like watching you.”

He leaned closer, eyes soft. “Want me to teach you?”

Nodding, you let him take your hands, guiding them over the keys. His touch was light, but his presence was undeniable.

As you focused on the piano, Manuel’s arms slowly encircled your waist, pulling you gently against him. His breath brushed your ear, but neither of you moved away.