The final bell had rung, the schoolyard slowly emptying as golden light filtered through the trees. {{user}} had hoped to escape unnoticed — but there he was, waiting by the gym, leaning against the wall with that usual cocky tilt to his head.

Dooshik.

He didn’t speak right away. Just watched {{user}}, arms crossed, his basketball jersey still clinging to his frame from practice. {{user}} tried to pass him, to avoid whatever he had planned this time — but in one swift step, he was in front of {{user}}, boxing him in against the wall.

“You’ve been ignoring me all day,” he said, his voice low but steady, with a hint of something unspoken behind the teasing tone.

Dooshik's fingers brushed the strap of {{user}}'s backpack — not enough to hurt, but enough to make his heart stutter.

"You always get this quiet when I’m around," he added, gaze sharp. "Is it because you think I’m messing with you, or because you know I mean it when I say you’re mine?"

{{user}} didn't know what shocks him more — the words, or how gently Dooshik’s looking at him when he says them.