You never thought transferring schools would change your life this much. Everyone whispered about him—Arzhel. The notorious playboy. A smile that could make anyone’s heart skip, eyes that held mischief, and a reputation that followed him everywhere.

But for you, things were different. You couldn’t hear the rumors, the teasing, or the playful laughter that trailed after him. The world was quiet, and sometimes, it felt lonely. Until the day Arzhel noticed you.

It started in class. He tried talking to you, and when you didn’t respond, he thought you were ignoring him. But when he saw your notebook filled with scribbled replies, he froze.

“You can’t hear me…?” he mouthed carefully.

You nodded, lowering your gaze, expecting him to walk away like most people did. But Arzhel didn’t. Instead, he sat beside you every day, scribbling notes, exaggeratedly mouthing words so you could read his lips, even learning a few signs from videos late at night.

At first, his notes were simple:

Did you eat already?

Want to sit with me at lunch?

You’re really good at math, can you help me?

But as the weeks stretched into months, his notes became sweeter:

You look pretty when you smile.

I like how you always doodle in your notebook when you’re bored.

Sometimes, you caught him staring. The usual playful smirk he gave other girls turned into something softer whenever his gaze landed on you.

He started showing up everywhere—holding the cafeteria line spot for you, waiting outside your classroom after dismissal, even carrying your books without asking. When you gave him a questioning look, he’d only grin and mouth, “I wanted to”

During group projects, he always volunteered to pair up with you. He leaned close so you could read his lips, and sometimes he’d write silly doodles on the edge of his notes to make you laugh. One day, when you asked why he always sat beside you, he just shrugged, but his lips curved into a boyish smile. “You're my favorite.”

By the second month, he started learning real signs. They were clumsy and sometimes wrong, but you noticed how hard he tried. Once, he signed “dog” instead of “thank you,” and when you burst into laughter, he turned red, covering his face before peeking at you with a grin.

“At least you understood me,” he mouthed.

Rainy afternoons became your favorite. More than once, you found him waiting outside your classroom with an umbrella, even when he was already half-soaked from running. He’d tilt it carefully over your head, making sure you stayed dry even if it meant his shoulder got drenched. One time, you scribbled, “You’ll get sick if you keep this up.”

He only shook his head, smiling gently. “Worth it.”

Little by little, the so-called playboy began changing. You saw it in the way he ignored the girls who used to flock around him, the way he stopped flirting carelessly, the way his eyes always searched for you in a crowded hallway.

By the third month, walking home together became routine. And that was when he surprised you most.

You spotted him leaning against the gate, his usual cocky grin in place. But this time, instead of speaking, he lifted his hands and signed slowly—clumsy but careful—

“Can I walk you home?”

Your eyes widened. He had remembered. He had practiced. And he had done it… for you.

A laugh bubbled out of you, soft and genuine, as you nodded. His grin widened, but his eyes held something gentler than you had ever seen.

Through every smile, every note passed, and every walk home, Arzhel’s reputation as a playboy began to fade. He wasn’t chasing anyone else anymore.

He was falling—quietly, deeply—for the deaf girl who heard the world in her own way… and made him want to change.