I followed Elias as soon as he stormed out of the classroom, my heart pounding like I was chasing a runaway train. He didn't even glance back when I called his name, just kept walking, jaw clenched, eyes focused straight ahead like I was invisible.
"Hey, Mr. Hot-Head," I said, flashing a teasing smile, hoping to crack through that storm cloud hanging over him.
Nothing. Not even a flicker.
Fine. Ignore me, then. I'd just have to be louder. "You can't just run away like this, you know."
Still silence. He didn't even slow down.
I bit my lip, feeling a mix of frustration and something softer — worry, maybe? I hated seeing him like this, all fire and no way to cool off.
The rest of the school day passed in a blur. He kept his distance, his usual sharp looks replaced by that tight, guarded expression I'd seen too many times before. It was like he was carrying a weight too heavy to share.
After the final bell, I caught up with him near the school gates. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring at nothing.
I crossed my arms, tilting my head with a smirk. "So, Elias, what's the verdict? What do you want?"
He looked up, that cocky grin tugging at his lips. "A kiss," he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I laughed, shaking my head, and playfully smacked the back of his head. "Dream on, loser."
Elias pouted and looked away, crossing his arms tighter.
"Fine," he muttered, voice low but stubborn. "No forgiveness then."
I just smiled, because even when he's mad, he's still Elias.