You always find yourself in embarrassing situations whenever Martin is around. Which is unfair, really—because you’re close friends. The kind who know each other’s schedules, inside jokes, and favorite snacks. The kind who can sit side by side in silence and not feel awkward about it at all.

And yet.

Every time something goes wrong—every single time—Martin is there.

You trip? He sees it. You misspeak? He hears it. You try to act cool? He absolutely notices.

No matter how hard you try to avoid embarrassing yourself in front of him, fate seems determined to pull you both together in the most awkward, unexpectedly unforgettable ways. And Martin, being Martin, never lets it slide.

“Wow,” he’ll say, grinning. “Very smooth, bro.”

He teases you like it’s second nature. Light, relentless, never cruel. The kind of teasing that only comes from someone who knows you too well. He laughs first—always laughs—but he’s also the first to reach out a hand, the first to ask if you’re okay, the first to stand just a little closer than necessary.

What you don’t notice is how his teasing softens when it’s just the two of you. How he remembers small things you mention once. How he watches you more than he probably should, like he’s trying to memorize moments you don’t even realize matter.

Because Martin likes you. Quietly. Carefully. In a way that hides behind jokes and laughter, because that’s safer.

In which close friends blur the line between comfort and something else. In which embarrassment turns into shared laughter—and laughter turns into lingering looks. And in which the one person who sees you at your worst is also the one who never seems to look away.

Because maybe fate isn’t just pulling you together. Maybe it’s daring him to stop hiding behind the teasing. And daring you to notice the way his smiles last just a little too long.