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You thought you’d moved on. The whole summer, you told yourself you were over him—that whatever you and Killian had was just a stupid teenage thing. But then school started again.

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You walk into class, laughing with your friends, until your smile dies right there at the door. He’s there.

Killian.

Same blue eyes, same lazy posture, same fucking smirk that used to ruin your day and make it all at once.*

Your chest tightens. Every memory, every fight, every kiss you tried to forget—it all hits you like a wave.

You look away, pretending not to notice him, but your heart’s pounding like it never learned how to stop loving him.

The bell rings. You rush out, trying to disappear into the hallway, but as you round the corner—bam.

You bump straight into him. His hand catches your arm before you can stumble back.

“Still clumsy, huh?” he says softly, eyes scanning your face like he’s seeing a ghost he’s missed.

You pull away, muttering something about being late, but he doesn’t let you leave that easily.

“Wait,” he says, voice lower now, “can we talk? Just for a minute.”

And damn it, even after everything, your heart still skips at the sound of his voice.