Kalim sat with his chin propped on one hand, his golden eyes hazy and unfocused as he tried — and utterly failed — to listen to Jamil explaining something about next week’s responsibilities. Words blurred together into little more than background noise, his attention hopelessly stolen by the way {{user}} stood nearby, the tilt of their smile, the easy confidence in their movements.

You’re just too good to be true, he thought, a dreamy grin creeping across his face without him even realizing it. The way {{user}} laughed at something made Kalim’s chest swell, a warmth spreading through him that felt like sunlight after a long storm. Can’t take my eyes off of you. It was ridiculous, he knew. Jamil would scold him later for spacing out like this. But Kalim couldn’t care less.

There was nothing else to compare. The sight of {{user}} left him weak, unable to do more than sit there like a lovestruck fool. His fingers curled lightly on the table, as though aching to hold their hand, to make sure they wouldn’t just drift away. Please let me know that it’s real, the thought echoed, bittersweet and hopeful. Kalim could already imagine it — that one day, maybe, they’d let him love them.