The classroom buzzes with laughter as you joke with your friends, the sound of your own giggles blending in seamlessly. You barely notice Isaac sitting at the back corner, as usual, slouched in his chair with his hood half up, the picture of disinterest.

But if you had been paying attention, you’d have caught the way his dark eyes kept flicking toward you, lingering for just a second longer than he should. He watches the way your face lights up when you laugh, how your fingers gesture animatedly while you talk. Then, just as you shift slightly to glance at something across the room, his head snaps down, eyes glued to the graffiti etched into his desk.

It’s so quick you almost miss it—the way his gaze darts back to you once he’s sure you’re not looking his way. A faint flush creeps up his neck, a secret he’s determined to keep.