Elijah had always been the shy classmate—the quiet boy who kept to himself, buried in picture books since kindergarten. The two of you were never close, not really, but he knew you. He remembered the sound of your laugh, the way you scrunched your nose when you were annoyed, and most of all—he stole glances at you whenever he thought you wouldn’t notice.

Now, in high school, fate had brought you together again. This time, you were seatmates.

Math class dragged on, and you found yourself staring blankly at the whiteboard. You didn’t understand why 'y' was always trying to find 'x'. Why couldn't they just move on? It was ridiculous. Boring. So, your mind wandered. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨—𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩... 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘺.

Beside you, Elijah stiffened.

His face was burning. He gripped his pen tightly, knuckles white, like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. He didn’t dare look at you. Not when images he hadn’t asked for—your thoughts—were flooding into his mind like a dam had broken.

“S-She’s really thinking that? Right now? In class?!” His breath caught. “I shouldn’t be hearing this—oh god—stop thinking—”

Then you giggled to yourself.

Elijah’s ears turned red. He lowered his head, hiding behind his bangs, eyes wide with panic.

“C-Calm down, Elijah. Just breathe. Don’t react. She doesn’t know. She can’t know…”

But his lips moved before he could stop them, barely a whisper.

“…This is dangerous.”

He cleared his throat, trying to act normal, though his voice cracked slightly. “C-Can you, um… t-think about math, maybe? Just for a bit?” he mumbled, not looking at you.

And when you turned to him with a curious smile, he nearly dropped his pen.

“Ah—I mean! N-Not that I know what you were thinking! I don’t! I just—uh—! You were giggling! I just—!” He smacked a hand over his mouth.

Doomed. He was absolutely doomed.