The arcade lights were too bright.

Too loud. Too colorful. Too much for a random afternoon that was supposed to be nothing.

Just something to do.

That’s what you thought when Javier had asked you earlier, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Hey… are you free today?”

You had nothing better to do. No plans. No reason to say no. So you went.

He treated it casually. Tried to, at least.

Bought snacks without asking, always two of everything. Walked beside you without getting too close, but never quite drifting away either. When you reached the road, he didn’t take your hand — just your sleeve, careful, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed more than that. Forefinger and thumb pinching the fabric as he guided you across. He didn’t let go right away.

You noticed. Just not enough to think anything of it.

The arcade had clearly been his idea. You saw it in the way he lit up for a second before forcing himself back into something calmer, something normal. He got focused when he played, jaw set, brows drawn together, like winning actually mattered. And when he did win — a small, slightly crooked plush penguin — he just stood there staring at it before handing it to you with a quiet, “For you.”

Like it wasn’t a big deal.

You took it anyway.

You ended up sitting close later. Maybe there wasn’t enough space. Maybe neither of you moved. Your shoulder brushed his, your leg against his, and every time it happened he went completely still, like he forgot how to exist for a second. When you leaned in just a bit, close enough for him to feel it, he froze harder than before.

“…Dios…” he muttered under his breath, so soft it almost disappeared.

You still heard it.

Time slipped somewhere along the way. The sky darkened without you noticing, the streetlights flickered on, and the 14th quietly turned into the 15th while you were still walking beside him. He knew. You didn’t.

The walk back was slower. Quieter. Like he was dragging it out, stretching every second just a little longer.

When you reached your place, you turned to him, the plush penguin tucked under your arm. You said it was nice. Simple, honest, the kind of thing you’d say after any good day.

He didn’t answer.

Just stood there, staring at the ground, fingers fidgeting like he couldn’t control them. Something in him tightened, like he was trying to force himself forward and failing at the same time.

Then he stepped closer.

Not much. Just enough to make it feel different.

His eyes finally met yours, and there was nothing steady about him now. No calm, no distance — just something uncertain, almost desperate.

“…Fue…” he started, voice catching. He swallowed, trying again, quieter. “Fue una… cita, {{user}}.”

Your name left his lips softer than anything else he’d said all day.

You looked at him, confused, and the silence stretched just a second too long. He made a small, frustrated sound under his breath, like he didn’t know what else to do with himself.

“Me gustas tú,” he said quickly, before he could stop himself. “Mucho. Muchísimo.”

His hand lifted, hesitated, then settled lightly against your arm — like he needed something to hold onto.

And before he could overthink it—

He leaned in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to your lips.

Gone just as fast.

He pulled back immediately, eyes wide, breath uneven, like he’d just done something irreversible.