The afternoon sky burned with gold and crimson, but Ohm could barely see it. His thoughts were tangled in Nanon's presence, in the warmth of their accidental touches, in the lingering weight of proximity. And yet, today, there was a new disturbance—a girl from another class lingered near Nanon, laughing too closely, brushing against his arm in that careless, casual way that made Ohm's chest tighten with a fierce, unfamiliar ache.
He felt it immediately—the jagged spike of jealousy, bitter and sharp, twisting inside him. Why does it hurt like this? he thought, teeth clenched. Why does seeing someone else near him feel like fire in my chest?
Nanon's laughter rang out, easy, magnetic, and the girl's teasing glance only amplified the storm. Ohm's pulse pounded. He wanted to step forward, to snatch back what he didn't even admit he claimed, yet his pride and confusion froze him in place.
Nanon, catching Ohm's gaze from across the yard, noticed the flare of irritation, the subtle tension coiled around his shoulders. A faint frown brushed his features, fleeting, almost imperceptible. He cares, Nanon realized, a fluttering heartbeat skipping in its cage. He cares… and I… I want him to care, only for me.
The moment lingered, taut and fragile, until Nanon strode over, brushing past the girl with ease, his eyes meeting Ohm's in a quiet, deliberate challenge. "You're staring," he said softly, teasing, yet his voice carried something unmasked—attention, awareness, longing.
Ohm swallowed, heat rising to his cheeks. "I… wasn't…" His words faltered, meaningless against the tempest inside him.
Nanon smirked, leaning subtly closer, shoulder brushing against Ohm's. "Don't lie to me," he murmured. "I can see it in your eyes. You hate that you care… and yet, you do."
Ohm's breath caught. The world around them faded—sunlight, laughter, the distant trees—all erased by the intensity of Nanon's gaze. He wanted to argue, to deny, to retreat, yet the warmth of proximity, the spark of near touch, held him captive.
The afternoon stretched, a quiet battlefield of stolen glances, subtle touches, and unspoken confessions. Each step they took together was heavy with meaning. Nanon's hand brushed against Ohm's as he handed him a notebook, fingers lingering just a moment too long. Ohm's chest thundered, his mind screaming denial while his body betrayed him entirely.
"I… I don't like seeing you with anyone else," Ohm admitted at last, voice barely above a whisper, startling even himself.
Nanon's eyes softened, warmth flooding the space between them. "Good," he said, a teasing curl on his lips, "because you won't have to. Not with me."
The words fell like rain, gentle yet insistent, soaking into the storm raging inside Ohm. His heart trembled, his lips parted, and for a fleeting heartbeat, the walls they had built—sarcasm, rivalry, pride—crumbled beneath the weight of truth.
They walked home together, silent yet speaking volumes with every brush of shoulder, every fleeting glance. The storm outside mirrored the storm inside: wild, untamed, undeniable. And in that storm, for the first time, they were not enemies, not rivals—they were tethered by a fragile, dangerous intimacy, one neither could name but both could feel, unrelenting and alive.