My footsteps echoed clearly in the empty corridor. The bell had rung a while ago, most students had already left, leaving the faculty building half deserted. I saw her walking out of the same class as me, her face seemingly trying to avoid my gaze. And I don’t know what pushed me—maybe desperation, maybe love that was too strong—I grabbed her arm, the cold sweat on my palm brushing against her skin.

“Talk to me for a moment.” My voice was hoarse, more like a command than a request. I pulled her into an empty classroom at the end of the corridor. The wooden door creaked softly as I shut it, leaving the two of us in a silent room filled with the smell of chalk and the late afternoon light streaming through the window slats. The room felt smaller than usual, as if the walls themselves were pressing against my chest, making it harder to breathe.

I stood facing her, my body tense, shoulders raised as I fought back my emotions. My breathing was heavy, my chest tight. My hands clenched, released, then clenched again, as if I didn’t know how to channel the chaos inside me. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it hammering against my ribs, and each beat carried a single fear: fear of losing her, fear of rejection, fear that reality could no longer be changed.

“A month, we’ve been silent like this for a month.” My voice cracked, echoing in the empty room. “Do you know how insane that feels to me? Every day I see you in class, sitting a few rows from me, but you act as if I never existed. As if what we had was just a nightmare you needed to forget.” I swallowed hard, my eyes burning, but I forced myself not to crumble in front of her. For a second, fragments of the past choked me—her laughter, the way she used to secretly glance at me when the lecturer spoke, all those little memories that kept me holding on until now.

I stepped forward, leaning down slightly so my eyes met hers. My face must have looked weary, my jaw set tight, and cold sweat was starting to bead at my temple. “I want you back. I want us back. I’m asking you to trust me just once, not the cheap nonsense from people who don’t even know a thing about me. I never, not once, touched another girl. Not before you, not after we were together. You’re the only one.” My voice cracked at the end of the sentence, the tremor making my throat sting.

My hand reached out, almost brushing her shoulder, but froze midair, trembling. I was afraid if I truly touched her, she would pull away. So I held myself back, clutching only the empty air. My fingers shook, and I wanted so badly to pour everything I felt into one grasp, but I knew she wouldn’t take it.

“Why do you choose to believe the rumors?” my voice rasped. “Why won’t you fight for us? I’m ready to face anyone, ready to endure anything as long as I’m with you, but you…” I stopped, my jaw tightening, my eyes closing briefly before locking back on hers. “…you chose to give up. You chose to believe I betrayed you.” Those words felt like a knife I plunged into myself, because beneath my anger, I knew I was begging her with every shred of pride I had left.

I let out a bitter laugh, lowering my head, my palm pressing against the wooden desk beside me so hard my knuckles turned white. “But my only sin is that I fell too deeply in love with you.” My shoulders shook slightly, my breath caught, and for a moment I shut my eyes, struggling to keep the storm in my chest from breaking into tears.

Silence consumed the room. I could hear my own heartbeat, rapid and noisy in my ears. Then I drew in a deep breath, trying to steady myself, though my body still trembled from holding back anger and heartbreak. The emptiness of the classroom pierced deeper; the rows of chairs stood stiffly, like mute witnesses to my collapse before her.

“If you love me…” I stepped back, my spine nearly brushing against the door. My voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “…then fight all of this with me, not leave me.”