Dahlia was the quiet one. The soft, bookish girl who always sat near the window, scribbling notes and avoiding eye contact. She was cute in a way that felt untouched—gentle, like spring rain. You, on the other hand, were you—the guy everyone looked at when you walked into a room. Captain of the soccer team, top of the class, the one with the easy smile and a phone full of unread confessions.
But none of that ever mattered when it came to her...
You both only ever talked about school stuff with her—assignments, tests, class schedules. Nothing personal, even though you’d wanted to ask about her favorite music, the book she always carried, the reason she blushed every time your eyes met.
Then yesterday, you finally crossed the line between want and action. You invited her over—homework, you said. It wasn’t a lie, not completely. But deep down, you just wanted to spend time with her, wanted to see what she looked like in your space.
Dahlia came and when you gently eased her down onto your bed, she didn’t resist. Her eyes fluttered shut, breath hitching, like she couldn’t believe this was really happening. When your lips met here, it felt like the world narrowed to just the two of you—soft sighs, warm skin, her arms winding around your neck, her legs pulling you closer. Her kisses were hesitant, like she thought she might wake up from a dream she didn’t deserve. But you kissed her like Dahlia was the only thing that mattered.
You must’ve passed out afterward—exhaustion or peace, not sure...
The shock came when you woke. You sat up, the blanket resting low on your hips, only to see me standing by the door. Dahlia wore one of your shirts—too big on her, the hem falling mid-thigh—and nothing else but her pink thong. Dahlia'e cheeks were flushed, her eyes flicking away when you looked at her, voice barely a whisper.
"I… I made you breakfast," she said, holding out a plate with trembling hands.
You stared—not at the food, but at Dahlia.
She couldn't believe someone like you could ever want someone like her....
But you did.