-Claudio's POV — After the Hug
Her arms are warm around me, the trophy pressed between us, her heartbeat quick and steady against my chest.
I've been standing close to her for months, sketching her, watching her, walking beside her, protecting her. Always careful. Always silent.
But now—right now—I feel something that doesn't fit into "careful" or "silent."
I hear the applause fading around us, but it doesn't matter. I only feel her.
Her laughter, soft and relieved, lingers in my ears. Her hair brushes my shoulder. Her scent—something faintly like lavender—settles in my mind.
And it hits me like a quiet storm:
I'm in love with her.
Not the easy kind. Not the distant kind. The kind that twists your stomach when she's happy with someone else, the kind that makes your hands itch to touch her just to make sure she's real, the kind that makes you forget how to breathe when she hugs you.
She pulls back slightly to look at me, smiling, eyes shining. I force myself to smile back.
Because I can't say it yet. Not now.
But I know it.
The truth presses against my chest, heavy and undeniable:
I am in love with Elara.
And if anything ever happened to her… I couldn't stay silent anymore.
For the first time, I understand that protecting her isn't enough. I want to be more. I want to be with her.
And that thought—terrifying, thrilling, impossible—is the only thing I can feel as the crowd cheers around us.
-Hotpot Celebration — Elara's POV
The restaurant smells like broth and spice, steam rising from bubbling pots on every table. The clatter of chopsticks and laughter surrounds us, but in our corner, it's cozy, warm, and safe.
Freya's practically glowing, sitting beside Alex. They're holding hands under the table, fingers intertwined. I can't stop myself from smiling at them. They look perfect together—easy, effortless, happy.
Claudio sits across from me, quiet as always, but his presence is different tonight. Close, grounding, attentive, but playful in that way that makes my chest flutter. He's watching me more than he's watching the food, his blue eyes soft in the warm light.
"You two are quiet," Freya teases, glancing at Claudio and me. "Not eating, not talking… what's going on?"
Claudio smirks slightly, reaching across to drop some thinly sliced beef into the boiling pot. "Focused on the art of cooking," he says, deadpan.
I laugh, trying to cover the way my stomach flips just because he's looking at me. "Yeah, right."
Alex nudges Freya. "Don't look at me. I'm watching my girl."
Freya laughs, squeezing his hand. "You're so dramatic."
The conversation drifts to dance, football, and everything in between. I tell Claudio about my next routines, the ones I'll need to perfect before the Nationals. He listens, not interrupting, only commenting when I stumble over a detail.
Later, when I glance down at the pot, I notice him quietly arranging ingredients for me—mushrooms, thin slices of tofu, vegetables he knows I like.
I feel… seen. Really seen.
And then my eyes meet his across the table. I can't explain why, but my heart skips a beat.
The night stretches, laughter mixing with the smell of broth and sizzling meat, and I realize how much I cherish this. Four friends celebrating, yet everything feels charged in the quiet spaces between words.Freya and Alex are happy together.
Claudio is here, close, careful, and maybe… more than a friend.
For the first time in a while, I don't just feel relief that the competition went well—I feel something else. Something soft, alive, and dangerous.
End of the Night — Freya's POV
The streetlights glint off the pavement, casting long shadows as Alex and I walk side by side. Our fingers are still intertwined, warm and easy, like they've always belonged that way.
He nudges me gently. "You were amazing today," he says quietly, his voice low enough that only I hear.
I laugh softly. "You mean the cheering part? Or the holding-your-hand part?"
He grins, leaning closer. "Both."
The way he looks at me—like he's not just seeing me, but noticing every little detail—I feel my chest tighten in the best way.We pass a quiet café, the smell of coffee drifting out. I take a deep breath, letting the cool night air mix with the warmth in my chest.
"Elara looked happy too," I say, glancing over my shoulder. "Even if she didn't say much."
Alex follows my gaze, then nods. "She'll figure things out. But right now, this—us—is what matters."
I squeeze his hand. "Yeah. This is perfect."
We keep walking, letting the night stretch out in front of us, quiet and steady. No one rushing, no one watching—just the two of us, laughing softly at little jokes only we get, enjoying this beginning of something we both have wanted for a long time.
And for the first time in a while, I feel completely safe to be myself, knowing he's there, right beside me.
Claudio's POV — End of Night
I watch them from a few steps back—Freya and Alex, hands intertwined, laughing quietly.
It's… nice. Really nice. She deserves it.
Then my eyes find Elara. She's smiling softly to herself, walking ahead, unaware of how much she's already taken over my thoughts.
I straighten my jacket, hands tucked in pockets.
I can protect her. I can stay close. I just… need to figure out how to tell her what I feel.
For now, watching her safe is enough.