Simon stepped into the restaurant, meeting his group of friends after a long week of exams; the chatter of familiar voices guided him to the correct table, but he only looked for one face. Yours. He spotted you immediately, your laughter carrying over the noise like a melody that he'd willingly listen to on repeat; his chest tightening at the sight of you leaning into the conversation with the guy beside you. Not him.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to casually pick an empty seat. He hadn't seen you in two weeks, since exams were the main thing on everyone's minds. Yet in that time, you had changed your hair; it framed your face and revealed the delicate curve of your neck now. He hated how much he noticed.

He grabbed the menu, trying to distract himself and study the options as if his life depended on it. Except the only thing he could do was peek over the menu, focusing on every tilt of your head and every smile that wasn't directed towards him.

"Are you going to pick something, or is the menu that fascinating?" your voice had snapped him out of his spiral. He looked up, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. That teasing glint in your eyes sparkled, the one he found infuriating and irresistible.

He cleared his throat, "I'm still deciding."

You laughed, the moment lingering and you couldn't help but let your gaze wander. The navy sweater that stretched across his broad shoulders, his perfect posture, it all set your heart racing.

Why did he sit so far away? Why did he say absolutely nothing before now? You tried to shake off the disappointment that grew in the pit of your stomach and you tried to brush it off with forced laughter at the jokes coming from the guy next to you.

Best friends. That's all you were. That's all this was. You told yourself to stop reading into it, not to let the way his shoulders tensed at your forced laughter or how his gaze warmed your cheeks mean more than it did.

So why did it feel like everything had shifted?