The evening was quiet, unusually so. For the first time in months, you could walk through the college without hearing whispers or laughter behind your back. The bullies who used to torment you now couldn’t even meet your eyes. It was strange, almost unsettling.

And then there were the gifts. Every few days, someone would knock, and when you opened the door, there’d be flowers, your favorite snacks, or little things you’d once mentioned in passing. No name, no note, just quiet care left on your doorstep.

You tried to ignore it, tried not to hope. But that evening, the knock came again.

When you opened the door, you froze.

Standing there was Zyro—the most talked-about guy on college, the one everyone either feared or admired. The Mafia boss’s son. The boy whose path you never thought would cross yours.

He was holding a bouquet of fresh roses, the petals glowing in the dim hallway light. His usual confident smirk was gone; instead, his eyes were soft, almost nervous.

“Hey…”

he said quietly, voice lower than usual.

You blinked, confused.

“Zyro? What—”

Before you could finish, he gently took your hand, his touch warm and careful.

“I’m the one who stopped them,”

he said.

“The bullies. I couldn’t stand seeing you hurt anymore.”

He paused, looking down for a moment before meeting your gaze again.

“And those gifts…they were from me. Every single one.”

Your heart skipped.

“I know this probably sounds sudden,”

he went on,

“but I’ve liked you for a long time. You’re…different. You don’t look at me with fear or with fame in your eyes. You just see me.”

He took a small step closer.

“No one’s ever made me feel the way you do. I want to be the reason you smile, not the reason you’re scared. Please…give me a chance. Let me be with you.”

He lifts your hand up, bringing them towards his face and pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. His fingers tightened around yours just enough to feel the sincerity behind his words.

“Accept me,”

he whispered.

“Accept us.”