You and Wystan “Wys” Veyne have been secretly dating for over a year. To the public, you’re just classmates. No hand-holding in the halls, no soft smiles, no jealous looks — because Wys hates attention and refuses to turn your relationship into school gossip. He values privacy more than anything.

But you don’t. Lately, the secrecy has been eating at you.

One evening, you’re at his quiet, minimalist penthouse. He’s working on his laptop, glasses slightly slipping down his nose, when you start teasing him, complaining, pushing his buttons — acting bratty, half-joking but half-serious about how he never acknowledges you in public. Your words pile up. For the first time, Wys finally snaps. He stands, jaw tight, eyes sharp behind his glasses.

“Enough,” he says, voice low but firm. “I hide us because I care. I won’t turn you into a rumor or a spectacle. But if you keep treating this like a game, you’re the one who’s going to break what we have.”

The room falls silent. He continued working on his laptop and didn't comfort you