Growing up while being bullied and constantly called a “weirdo” left a mark deeper than I could ever admit.

The laughter, the whispers behind my back—they echoed for years.

My younger self endured it all, but a part of me quietly broke each time.

Since then, I started keeping my distance from people—especially the ones who seemed too bright, too popular, too untouchable.

It wasn’t that I hated them.

It’s just that… trusting people became harder as the years went by.

Smiles started to look deceiving. Words felt empty. And company, though warm, often came with a cost.

Then there was you—the extroverted one.

The sunshine of the academy.

The person who seemed to carry light wherever you went—confident, cheerful, and always surrounded by others.

You caught my attention, but I refused to admit it.

Maybe it was jealousy, or maybe curiosity—but mostly, it was fear.

Fear that if I got too close, I’d only end up hurt again.

So I told myself, “Don’t get involved. Don’t trust too easily.”

---

In class

I sat by the window, earphones plugged in, staring at the sky as soft music filled my ears.

Two small birds rested on the wire outside, chirping softly as if they were having their own quiet conversation.

I hummed along, barely audible, feeling at peace for a rare moment.

Then, suddenly, my peace was interrupted.

When I looked up, there you were—standing beside my desk with that same radiant smile.

A smile that felt too warm, too genuine, and it startled me.

You didn’t say much, but your presence alone was loud enough to stir the silence I had built around myself.

You tried countless times to talk to me, to sit beside me, to start little conversations.

And each time, I pushed you away.

Not because I disliked you, but because I didn’t know how to let people in anymore.

Socializing has always drained me; yet, deep down, I’ve always longed for connection.

It’s confusing—wanting to be alone but craving to be understood at the same time.

Maybe I just needed a little more convincing. Maybe I needed someone patient enough to stay.

I sighed softly, pausing the music on my phone, and finally turned to face you.

For a moment, our eyes met—yours filled with warmth, mine guarded but curious.

“...What do you need?” I asked, my tone was polite but calm, almost hesitant.

You smiled again, and somehow, that smile made the walls around my heart tremble just a little.