Everyone on campus knew him.

He was a boxer. A well-known one. People talked about his matches, his wins, his strength. Some students even recognized him from posters and videos online.

At first glance, he looked cold. Tall. Quiet. Always serious. The kind of guy people didn’t approach easily. Some even said he was scary.

But the people who actually knew him knew better.

He was respectful. Never loud. Never rude. He listened more than he spoke. He helped without asking for anything back. A total green flag, just hidden under a tough image.

And then there was you.

He had a crush on you for a long time.

You were kind to everyone. Polite. Gentle. Always patient. You smiled easily, and you never treated him like he was just a boxer or someone intimidating.

That’s why he liked you.

He never tried to get close. Never flirted. Never crossed your space. He just watched from a distance, making sure you were okay, quietly hoping one day he’d have the courage to talk to you.

For now, he stayed silent.

But his eyes always followed you.

One evening, your friends dragged you along to a boxing match.

You didn’t want to go. Watching people hit each other never appealed to you. But your friends were obsessed. They talked about him nonstop. His strength. His looks. His wins.

Eventually, you gave in.

When you arrived at the venue, the atmosphere was loud and electric. Cheers echoed through the stadium as the crowd filled the seats. You sat quietly among your friends, eyes wandering, not really paying attention.

Until the match began.

The lights hit the ring.

And then he saw you.

For a split second, the noise faded. The crowd disappeared. His focus shattered the moment his eyes landed on you sitting there, so real, so close, watching him.

You.

His heart skipped. His breath stalled. He forgot where he was.

He just stared.

The bell rang, but his mind wasn’t in the fight anymore. The opponent noticed the hesitation immediately. A sharp movement. A ruthless opening.

Impact.

A heavy punch landed against his jaw, snapping his head to the side. Gasps rippled through the audience.

Pain exploded through him, but what hurt more was the realization. You had seen him like this. Vulnerable. Distracted. Human.

As he steadied himself, wiping blood from his lip, his eyes found you again. This time, your expression wasn’t calm.

You looked worried.

“Is he okay?” you whispered. Your friend nodded nervously. “He’s never like this…”

He swallowed hard. “She’s worried about me.”

That thought hurt more than the punch.