The classroom smelled of chalk and old paper.
Ayan sat alone, pen scraping against the page like it could drown out his thoughts.
The door clicked.
Soft footsteps.
Then—
> "You work too hard."
Ayan didn't look up.
> "You talk too much."
Kairo chuckled low, stepping in, letting the silence stretch until it hummed.
> "Does it bother you? That I don't leave you alone?"
Ayan's grip on his pen tightened.
> "You don't know the meaning of leaving someone alone."
> "Maybe I don't want to."
The words were soft. Honest.
And that was what broke him.
Ayan slammed the pen down, spinning in his chair so fast it rattled. His voice came out like glass shattering.
> "What the hell do you want from me, Ren?!"
Kairo froze for a fraction of a second—then his gaze sharpened, slow like a blade unsheathing.
> "Everything you don't want to give."
Ayan's breath caught. His chest heaved once, betraying the calm mask he wore like armor.
> "Then you're dumber than I thought."
Kairo stepped closer—quiet, measured, heat radiating like a slow fire.
> "And you're lying worse than I expected."
The words landed like a strike.
Ayan's throat locked.
He hated it.
Hated that for a second, he wanted to speak the truth clawing at his ribs.
So he stood, cold and sharp as a blade, forcing venom through clenched teeth.
> "Stay the hell out of my life."
And then he walked out—fast, almost stumbling on the way the silence chased him down the hall like a shadow with teeth.
Kairo didn't follow.
He just watched the empty doorway, pulse steady, mouth curling into something that wasn't quite a smile.
Because he had seen it.
That flicker in Ayan's eyes.
The kind you couldn't fake.
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