The morning of the school festival had arrived, and the school was buzzing with excitement. Banners fluttered across the hallways, tables were set up for food and games, and students hurried to finish their final preparations. The air was electric, filled with laughter, chatter, and a faint scent of paint and glue.
Anaya clutched her sketchbook tightly as she walked into the art room. Her hands were clammy, and her stomach twisted nervously. Today, her artwork would be on display for everyone—friends, classmates, teachers—and maybe even… him.
Rhea bounced in beside her, carrying some supplies. "Relax, Anaya! Your art is amazing. Everyone will love it, especially that someone special."
Anaya froze, cheeks heating. "R-Really?" she whispered, carefully unwrapping her sketches.
"Absolutely," Rhea said confidently, arranging her own project on a nearby table. "You put your heart into every line. People will notice. Trust me."
Taking a deep breath, Anaya began setting up her sketches on the display board. Each piece was a reflection of her thoughts, her feelings, and every secret emotion she had poured onto paper. The trembling in her hands didn't go unnoticed, but she forced herself to keep going.
Across the room, Kian leaned casually against a counter, pretending to check his phone but stealing glances at the art displays. His eyes widened slightly when he saw her work. The style—it was unmistakable. His heart skipped.
"She's the one," he murmured to himself.
Veer, standing nearby with a tray of snacks, glanced at him. "You've been staring at that display for like five minutes. Just talk to her already."
"I… I can't," Kian replied softly. "I want to, but… not yet. I need to be sure. I need to see her reaction first."
Back at her desk, Anaya stepped back to admire the arrangement of her sketches. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel pride. The fear of judgment, the worry of being seen—it was all still there, but beneath it, a quiet excitement began to grow.
And then she saw him.
Kian had approached the display, standing a few feet away, pretending to look at other students' work. But she could feel his eyes on her, focused, attentive. Her stomach fluttered violently. Does he… know it's me?
Rhea leaned over and whispered, "Don't freak out. Just… breathe. He's not going to bite."
Anaya took a shaky breath. "I know… I just…"
Kian finally stepped closer, stopping near her display. "Hey," he said, voice soft and casual, though his eyes betrayed curiosity.
"H-hi," Anaya whispered, her hands clutching her sketchbook like a lifeline.
"These sketches… they're yours, aren't they?" Kian asked carefully, not wanting to startle her.
Anaya's eyes widened. Her mouth opened to reply, but no words came. She felt frozen, heart racing, cheeks burning.
Kian's gaze softened. "I thought so. I had a feeling, but seeing them here… it's even better in person."
Her voice trembled as she finally whispered, "Th-thank you."
Rhea, unable to resist, leaned in with a grin. "Told you! Someone special would notice."
Kian chuckled at the little scene, clearly amused. "Your work… it's incredible, Anaya. I mean it. You really have talent."
Anaya looked down, unable to meet his eyes. He's not mad. He actually… likes it. He sees me. Her heartbeat felt like it might burst.
The rest of the room faded into the background as they lingered near the display. Compliments, chatter, and the hum of festival excitement existed around them, but it didn't matter. In that moment, it was just them, the sketches, and the subtle, growing tension between admiration and something more.
As the morning went on, students crowded the art room, murmuring compliments and taking photos. Anaya smiled quietly at their praise, but her eyes kept finding Kian's, who never looked away for long.
For both of them, the festival had become more than just a school event—it was a turning point, a quiet step toward understanding, connection, and perhaps something neither had dared to name yet.