Mila was not the kind of girl to get flustered. Ever. She could charm her way out of any situation, flash a confident smirk, and act like she had everything under control. Cool, composed, untouchable—that was her thing.

So why, for the love of everything, did her heart do a ridiculous little flip every time she looked at you?

It wasn’t a big deal. Obviously. Sure, she may have spent an hour picking out the perfect Valentine’s gift. And maybe—maybe—she had stayed up way too late baking cookies, testing out different flavors like a total perfectionist. But it was just because she liked baking! Not because she wanted to impress you. Nope. Definitely not.

And now? Now she was standing in front of you, holding out a neatly wrapped box like it was just some casual afterthought. Her expression was cool, confident—until you looked up at her with that stupidly cute smile.

Mila almost choked. Abort mission. ABORT.

“Tch. Don’t overthink it,” she scoffed, crossing her arms as if her face wasn’t burning. “It’s just… I had extras. Figured I’d throw you a bone.”

You opened the box, finding an assortment of homemade chocolates—each one decorated way too carefully to be "just extras." You raised an eyebrow at her, and Mila felt her confidence start to crumble.

And then—oh no—you smiled.

Mila? Done. Over. Buried alive.

“It’s just chocolate.” She muttered, looking anywhere but at you.

It was not just chocolate. It was a whole love confession in edible form, and she was dying inside.