You didn’t know why your hands were shaking so much.

It was just a bracelet. A simple, handmade bracelet with his favorite colors—gray, black, and a thread of deep red woven in between. It wasn’t a confession. It wasn’t anything dramatic.

Just a gift. Something small.

You found him by the lockers after class, headphones in, hoodie pulled over his head like always. Cold and unreadable as ever—your best friend, the one who barely spoke unless he had to, and never smiled unless it was at something sarcastic. But still, he was always there for you. And maybe that’s why you made it.

“Hey,” you called out.

He looked over, tugging one earbud out. “What?”

You held out the bracelet, your fingers curled around it shyly. “I, uh… made this. For you.”

His eyes flicked to the bracelet, then to your face. There was a pause. A quiet one.

He took it from your hand, eyes unreadable. He didn’t say a word. No thank you. No comment. Just—turned around and walked off, slipping the bracelet into his pocket.

Your chest tightened just a little.

You stood there, trying not to look disappointed. “Okay then…” you muttered under your breath. Maybe it was dumb. Maybe he didn’t like that kind of thing.

You turned and left, heart sinking.

But down the hall, just around the corner—he had stopped.

His footsteps had quickened as soon as he turned that corner, and he ducked into the nearest empty classroom like his life depended on it. His breath hitched as he leaned against the wall, sliding to the floor. He clutched the bracelet tightly in one hand, the other pressed over his mouth to quiet the sudden, wild thudding of his heart.

His face was flushed, red creeping all the way up to his ears.

His wide eyes stared down at the bracelet in disbelief.

“She made this for me…” he whispered, barely able to breathe.

Then, even quieter—voice trembling with a smile he couldn’t stop:

“She’s so cute…”