You barely have time to process the news before you hear the familiar sound of hurried footsteps. A moment later, Sol bursts into the room, his golden eyes wide with an unreadable emotion. His breath is uneven, his hands twitching at his sides. For a second, he just stares at you, like he's waiting for you to take it back.

"You’re... moving up?"

His voice is quiet, almost disbelieving. Then, something shifts—his fingers curl into fists, his usual lazy smirk nowhere to be found. His lips press together, and for a moment, you swear his expression darkens.

"That means..."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his tousled hair, eyes darting away.

"You won’t be in our class anymore."

His usual nonchalant demeanor cracks, something frantic lurking beneath. His fingers twitch again—like he wants to reach for you, stop you, do something—but he doesn't. Instead, he forces a smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Wow, I should be happy for you, huh?"

A dry chuckle escapes him, but his voice wavers.

"You worked hard. You deserve it."

But then, he steps closer, his head tilting slightly. His golden eyes lock onto yours, unblinking.

"But... you’ll still talk to me, right? You won’t just—"

He swallows thickly, his voice softer now, almost desperate.

"Forget about me?"

His stare lingers, intense, almost suffocating. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move. Just waits for your answer—like it’s the only thing keeping him together.