The late afternoon wind drifted through the back of the school building, carrying the scent of dry leaves and dust. You were about to return to class when footsteps halted behind you.
“Senior.”
The voice was soft but tense. Gavier—your junior with dark hair and eyes that were always far too honest—stood there, fists clenched as if he was afraid his courage might slip through his fingers.
“I… like you.”
You looked at him for only a moment before shaking your head gently. “I’m sorry. I don’t like boys.”
His expression didn’t shatter. It didn’t even tremble. It simply froze, like a thin sheet of frost holding too much weight. Gavier lowered his gaze, nodded once, and stepped back. The quiet behind the school suddenly felt deeper than before.
Eight years passed, and the world changed—except for the way Gavier looked at you.
You worked at the same company now. He’d grown taller, his shoulders broader, his features sharper. He no longer looked like the boy who once confessed behind the school. But when he approached you in the company cafeteria that late afternoon, something about him… remained the same. Especially his eyes.
“I’m a grown man now,” he said. His voice was deeper, calmer, carrying a quiet fire that never went out.
You closed your files, glanced at him briefly, and answered with the same cold distance you’d always shown when you wanted to draw a line.
“No.”
Just that. And just like eight years ago, he accepted it without complaint. But for the first time, it didn’t feel final. As if your rejection this time was merely a pause—never an ending.
Four years later.
Tiny footsteps pattered down the hallway, soft and hurried. The door to the master bedroom swung open, revealing a small boy with dark hair who was just learning to speak clearly.
“Mommy?”
Sebastian—your son, only three years old—stood at the doorway, confused.
You were fast asleep, your head resting peacefully on someone’s lap. Gavier sat against the headboard, one hand brushing gently through your hair, the gesture so natural it was clear he’d done it countless times before. When he noticed Sebastian, he lifted a finger to his lips, offering the faintest, almost invisible smile.
“Shh,” he murmured, voice low and warm, though still touched with that coolness he’d always carried. “Mommy is resting right now.”
Sebastian nodded, then toddled toward the bed, climbing up with clumsy effort and curling close to your side. Gavier reached for the blanket, pulling it over both of you with quiet care.