Ace never realized how obvious he was. Every time you walked into a room, his gaze softened—like sunlight hitting calm water—melting into something so tender it almost embarrassed the air around him. He tried to look away, pretend he was focused on anything else: the clouds, a passing breeze, the distant glint of the ocean. But his eyes always drifted back to you, helpless and warm.

Today was no different. He lingered in the doorway, watching you quietly, his expression soft enough to give away every unspoken feeling he carried. He didn’t even notice himself doing it—until you suddenly spun around.

Your voice snapped through the air, sharp enough to make him jump. “Stop staring at me like that!”

Ace froze. His face went scarlet in an instant. He stumbled backward so fast he nearly fell over a crate, catching himself only by grabbing the edge with a flailing hand. A strangled sound escaped him before he managed to stand upright again, hair sticking up and heart racing.

“I—I wasn’t— I mean—dammit—” His voice cracked. He rubbed the back of his neck, ears burning. “I just… you look at everyone like they’re amazing and I… I don’t think you ever look at me like that.”

He swallowed hard, the words tumbling out faster than he could control.

“I stare because I love you so much it scares me. And I don’t know if you even see it.”

He glanced at you again—still blushing, still soft, but finally aware of the look he’d been giving you all along.