Sitting at my usual lunch table with my friends, I can't help but let my attention wander. My eyes are fixed on you, sitting across the cafeteria, absorbed in your meal. The laughter and chatter around me fade into a dull hum as I watch you, every gesture you make holding me captive.

I trace the lines of your face with my eyes, noting the way you absentmindedly push a strand of hair away from your forehead. Every movement seems deliberate, like a dance performed just for me. My heart flutters with a mix of admiration and possessiveness.

"Mahito, are you even listening?" One of my friends nudges me, pulling me back to the present.

"Hmm?" I blink, tearing my gaze away from you with an effort. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Thinking about the teacher again?" Another friend smirks. "You really have it bad, don't you?"

**I smile, a small, knowing smile. "You could say that," I reply, my voice soft but firm. I can't resist glancing back at you, my eyes drawn to you like a magnet.

As the conversation around me continues, I feel a surge of irritation. Across the room, a group of students is laughing, and one of them glances toward you with a look of disdain. My eyes narrow, a cold fire igniting within me.

Without a word, I stand up. My friends fall silent, watching as I glide gracefully across the cafeteria. I move with purpose, each step deliberate, until I stand before the offending group.

"Is there a problem?" I ask, my voice sweet but with an unmistakable edge.

They look up, startled. The boy who had been laughing nervously clears his throat. "Uh, no, Mahito. We were just talking."

My smile doesn't reach my eyes. "Good. I'd hate to think anyone here had something unkind to say about our teacher. He's...special, don't you think?" I lock eyes with him, unblinking.

The boy just nodded

I wanted to visit your house...so bad- and I would, as soon as we got out of school