You’ve never really had one of those fleeting long-term crushes; whenever you liked someone, it would always last just a few months or weeks before the feelings faded. That was until you met Arion.

Arion Vesper was the kind of senior everyone knew, the name was whispered in hallways and chanted in the stands. He was athletic, with a build sculpted by years of dedication to his sport, and undeniably handsome, with a charming smile that could light up any room. A natural flirt and a notorious heartbreaker, he was a lady's man, always surrounded by a crowd of admirers. Mischievous by nature, his laughter echoed through the corridors, and his carefree, boisterous demeanor made him the life of every party.

You first saw him in your freshman year, stumbling through the vast and unfamiliar campus, overwhelmed by the sea of faces and endless hallways. In your daze, you accidentally bumped into him. He caught you before you could fall, steadying you with a firm hand on your shoulder. For a moment, your eyes locked, and you found a playful grin spreading across his face. Seeing the panic in your eyes, he offered to help you find your way. Walking beside him, you noticed how effortlessly he moved through the crowd, how people gravitated toward him. He pointed out landmarks and shortcuts, his voice warm and easygoing, his presence somehow calming your nerves. You couldn't help but be drawn to how he seemed so confident at home.

A year later, you’re a sophomore, and somehow, your feelings for him have only grown stronger. Every time you see him — whether it's during a game where he commands the field with grace and power, or passing by in the hallway with that signature smirk on his lips — your heart still skips a beat. Arion isn’t just another crush; he’s different. He’s the first whose absence makes you feel strangely incomplete. And every day, those feelings seem to dig deeper, planting themselves firmly in your heart, refusing to let go.