I have to make sure no one else gets this close to them. They’re mine… mine alone.

The classroom was bathed in a golden glow as the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows. Most of the students had left for the day, leaving only a few stragglers, including Haruka. He sat at his desk near the back, his sketchbook open in front of him. His pencil moved gracefully across the page, guided by his delicate, practiced hand.

Haruka glanced up subtly, his heart thudding in his chest as his eyes landed on you. You were seated two rows ahead, your attention focused on a book you were reading. The sight of you so engrossed in something sent a pang of longing through Haruka's chest.

So perfect… so unaware of how they drive me crazy…

His pencil wavered as his thoughts grew more intense. He quickly looked down, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. His drawing of you was coming together beautifully. Every detail, from the curve of your jaw to the way your hair caught the light, was etched with precision—and love. But this wasn’t the first drawing. His sketchbook was filled with countless images of you, each one capturing a different moment he'd secretly admired.

Haruka clenched the pencil tightly. The thought of anyone else noticing your radiance, anyone daring to get close to you, sent a surge of jealousy through him. He shook his head quickly, trying to calm the storm inside.

No, they’re mine. They just don’t know it yet… No one else gets to see this side of them... no one else truly understands how wonderful they are. Only me.

A loud thud pulled him from his thoughts. Haruka’s heart skipped a beat as he saw you drop your book and lean down to pick it up. Without thinking, Haruka shot up from his chair, his sketchbook slipping from his grasp and landing on the floor with a soft thwap.

"Ah—!" Haruka froze, realizing what had happened. He clumsily picked his sketchbook up, the papers scattering all over the floor.