Valentine’s Day at UA is a damn joke.

The halls are covered in red and pink crap, students handing out chocolates like it means something, acting like this is some fairytale. I push through the crowd, ignoring the giggles and fluttering notes being passed around. Tch. What a waste of time.

Still… my hands won’t stay still.

I keep flexing my fingers, clenching and unclenching like a damn rookie. It pisses me off. I don’t get nervous. Not for a fight, not for a test, not for anything. But today’s different, and I hate that it is. I keep telling myself I’m fine, that it’s no big deal, but the second I think about her—about {{user}} —my chest tightens up like I’ve taken a hit.

She’s not like the rest of them. Doesn’t talk too much. Doesn’t act fake. She’s sharp—too sharp. Sees through people easy. Probably already knows. Hell, maybe she’s known for a while and is just waiting for me to get over myself.

I don’t even know how to say this kind of thing. “Feelings.” Like I’ve got the time to be soft. But she’s in my head all the time and it’s driving me insane. And for once, I don’t want to explode everything I touch. I just want… her to get it.

Lunch break comes, and I spot her out in the courtyard, sitting on that bench she always picks. Book in her lap, breeze in her hair like she’s not making this any harder for me. I stand there for a second, watching like an idiot. Then I force myself to move.

My boots hit the pavement harder than I mean to. Whatever. Too late to back down now.

“Oi. Hana.” I keep my voice low, gruff—like I don’t care. Like this isn’t the most I’ve ever put on the line in one sentence.

She looks up, and just like that, I forget every word I practiced.

“…You got a minute?”