The classroom buzzed with morning chatter, the scraping of chairs, the tapping of pens. Sunlight slanted in through wide windows, glinting off polished desks.
Altair was seated with his legs crossed under the chair, posture relaxed, thumbs flying across his phone screen as if his very existence depended on clearing one more level. His brows were knitted in intense concentration, tongue poking out slightly as he tapped with practiced fury.
Across from him, Cassian leaned back in his chair with a book open on his lap. His posture was straight, composed, his eyes steadily moving across the page. Where Altair radiated chaotic energy, Cassian was serenity personified. They looked like two halves of a painting—one a whirlwind of noise, the other a quiet anchor.
The contrast wasn't lost on their classmates, who stole glances at the pair. After all, after Altair's dramatic outburst the other day, the rumor mill hadn't stopped.
And then—
"Altair!"
Arms suddenly looped around Altair from behind, pulling him into a warm, firm hug.
"Wha—?!" Altair nearly dropped his phone as he was squeezed. He twisted his head, startled, until his eyes landed on the culprit. "Levi?!"
Levi—tall, broad-shouldered, effortlessly handsome—grinned down at him, his arms comfortably draped around Altair like they belonged there. His golden hair fell into his forehead, and his dominant Alpha presence was impossible to miss.
"Surprise," Levi said smoothly. "How are you, Fox?"
Altair, recovering quickly, broke into a grin. "What are you doing here, old man?"
"I'm a year above you, not forty." Levi chuckled, finally releasing him and taking the seat on Altair's other side. "Heard you've been busy. New rivalries? New friends?"
The last word came out with subtle weight. His gaze flicked briefly—oh so briefly—toward Cassian.
Cassian, for his part, didn't look up from his book. His expression didn't shift. But his hand pressed a little firmer against the page.
Altair, oblivious as always, waved his hands wildly. "Friends?! Absolutely not! Cassian is not my friend!"
The entire classroom perked up immediately.
Levi tilted his head, feigning innocent curiosity. "Oh? Then what is he?"
"My rival!" Altair announced proudly, eyes sparkling. "My one and only, the perfect opponent worthy of my genius!"
He gestured dramatically toward Cassian. "Behold, Cassian—the calm, brooding tyrant of reason, the bane of my existence! Without him, my life would be unbearably dull!"
Cassian finally raised his eyes from the book, meeting Levi's gaze across Altair's bouncing enthusiasm. He gave a short, polite nod of acknowledgement. Then, without a word, he returned to his reading.
It should have been nothing. A meaningless gesture. Yet, for some reason, Cassian found his chest tightening ever so slightly.
Levi chuckled, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "You seem… excited about him."
"I am!" Altair said without hesitation. "You don't understand, Levi. This man—this infuriating pickle—challenges me in ways no one else dares! Every word he speaks is a provocation, every calm look is a declaration of war. He keeps me sharp, keeps me alive! Why, just yesterday, I swore upon my pride that I will one day surpass him so utterly that he'll kneel before me in defeat!"
The classroom was dead silent.
Because to everyone else's ears, Altair wasn't describing a rival. He was describing someone he admired. Someone who mattered. Someone who occupied his thoughts more than he realized.
A classmate whispered under their breath, "Does he even hear himself?"
Another muttered, "Top student, my ass. How is he so… blind?"
Levi forced a laugh, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at Altair. "You sound awfully proud of him for someone you 'hate.'"
Altair blinked, then frowned. "Proud? No! Of course not! Don't twist my words. I merely acknowledge his competence so that when I crush him, the victory will be all the sweeter. That's strategy, Levi. Pure, cunning strategy."
Levi's eyes lingered on him, warm but edged with something harder. "…Right."
Cassian turned a page in his book. He wasn't listening. He wasn't. Except he could recite every single ridiculous word Altair had just shouted. His ears burned faintly.
---
The Invitation
As the morning dragged on, Altair bounced between ranting about Cassian to Levi and diving back into his phone game, oblivious to the weight of the tension on either side of him.
Levi's smiles were steady, charming, but they tightened whenever Altair leaned too close to Cassian's desk mid-rant. Cassian, meanwhile, kept his calm exterior, but the stiffness in his jaw betrayed a different story.
Finally, as the bell rang for dismissal, Levi stretched and said casually, "Hey, Altair. How about coffee later? Just the two of us—catch up properly."
Altair brightened. "Sure! It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"Yeah." Levi's eyes flicked toward Cassian as if testing for a reaction.
Cassian closed his book with deliberate calm, stood, and packed it into his bag. His movements were steady, unhurried. His face unreadable.
Not a single flicker of protest.
At least, not visibly.
But as he slung his bag over his shoulder, Cassian found his thoughts strangely loud. Why did his chest feel tight at the idea of Altair happily agreeing? Why did he suddenly imagine Altair's ridiculous grin aimed across a café table at someone else?
He brushed it off. It didn't matter.
It shouldn't matter.
"See you tomorrow," Cassian said evenly, as though nothing at all was wrong.
Altair waved without looking up from his phone. "Don't lose too much sleep reading boring books!"
Cassian's lips twitched—was that meant as concern or insult? With Altair, it was always both.
Levi, watching him leave, hummed thoughtfully before turning back to Altair with another smile. "You really haven't changed."
Altair beamed. "Of course I haven't! I'm perfect the way I am."
And just like that, the day ended.
---
The Observers
Later, whispers trickled across the classroom once more.
"Did you see Cassian's face?"
"He looked annoyed."
"Yeah, but he didn't say anything."
"Meanwhile, Altair just—like—praised Cassian while pretending to insult him."
"It's honestly incredible. He might be a genius in exams, but emotionally? A complete idiot."
Laughter bubbled quietly, not unkind but incredulous.
Because to everyone else, the picture was crystal clear:
Altair, oblivious and dramatic, had accidentally declared how much Cassian meant to him.
Cassian, calm and unreadable, had revealed more in silence than in words.
And Levi… well, Levi's smile was the only one that didn't quite ring true.