That night after Raziel confessed, sleep completely abandoned me. My mind spun in endless loops, replaying his words, the sincerity in his eyes, the way my heart stuttered at the sound of my name on his lips.
It had only been two weeks since we met. Two fleeting weeks of laughter, group activities, late-night talks, and stolen glances. Could feelings really grow that quickly? How could he be so sure about me?
And yet… he was.
His confidence shook me. Not because I doubted him, but because a part of me wanted to believe him. Deep down, I knew I was attracted to him—not just because of his face, which could've belonged to a painting, but because of the way he *saw* me. But I also knew a part of my heart still hadn't let go of Treize, the boy who left me with more questions than closure.
I didn't want Raziel to be a rebound. He deserved more than that. So I made a quiet promise to myself: I would give him a fair chance. I would talk to him, get to know him better, and maybe—just maybe—grow to feel something deeper. Something real.
Throughout the remaining days of the gathering, our groups continued to intermingle, drawn together like planets in the same orbit. During one reflective group activity, participants were encouraged to speak from the heart—to share stories of love, friendship, family, or pain. We were randomly grouped, and fate, it seemed, wasn't done meddling.
I found myself sitting beside Raziel, the circle intimate and dimly lit. The group leader smiled as she introduced the topic: **Romantic Love**.
Of course.
My heart pounded as we took turns speaking. When it was my turn, I hesitated but spoke anyway, feeling the weight of a dozen eyes on me.
"I was with someone once," I began. "His name was Treize. It didn't end well. It left me with scars I don't show. Now, there's someone who says he likes me—but my family and school don't allow relationships until after graduation. And so I asked…"
I took a breath.
"Would you choose to be with someone you like even if it meant going against your family and school? Or would you wait, even if it might mean losing that person?"
The group fell into thoughtful silence before responses trickled in.
"It depends on what matters more to you," one of them said. "Your heart or your home? I choose to follow my parents because I live under their roof, and I trust they want what's best."
Another nodded. "Parents have lived through more than we have. They're trying to protect us, even if it doesn't feel like it."
"And high school only happens once," someone else added. "Why rush? Enjoy your youth before love makes everything complicated."
I nodded slowly, letting their words sink in. They didn't judge me—they guided me.
Then I asked the second question, my voice barely above a whisper. "Is it okay to make someone wait? Even if you like them back? What if the wait is… years?"
Raziel's voice broke through the silence like sunlight through storm clouds.
"For me," he said, his tone calm but firm, "waiting is worth it. If I really like someone, I'll wait as long as I have to. Love doesn't need to be rushed. There's a time for everything, and if now isn't that time… I'll trust that it'll come."
His words hit me like a wave—sudden, overwhelming, and impossible to ignore.
Everything else faded. I couldn't hear what the others said after that. My heartbeat drowned out the room. His voice echoed inside me, looping over and over like a favorite song.
That was the moment I made my decision: I would give him the chance to prove himself. If fate wove him into my life, I would at least hold the thread.
*Let's see where this leads.*
---
The final day arrived too quickly. Our bags lay scattered as we packed in a flurry of zippers, clothes, and laughter. Amid the bustle, our group's usual chaos reigned.
"Don't forget anything!" Trisha warned, scanning the room like a general before battle.
"Especially you, Claude," Markus added. "You lose everything."
"I do not!" Claude shot back, indignant. "I just… occasionally misplace my memories."
"Like that time you—" Markus began, grinning.
"*Don't you dare!*" Claude lunged to cover his mouth. "Mhmmp!"
Trisha rolled her eyes. "Flirt later. Focus now. Carmela, how about you? Everything packed?"
I nodded. "I'm good, sis. All packed."
She smiled, but her brow furrowed. "Then why do you look like the weight of the world's on your shoulders?"
"It's nothing."
"Oh, it's something," Markus chimed in. "She's sad because she won't see her *boyfriend* anymore."
"I *don't* have a boyfriend," I snapped.
Claude smirked. "Really? I wonder what Raziel would say if he heard that."
"Don't be ridiculous," I said firmly. "Raziel and I… we're just…"
"*Something,*" Markus finished. "Definitely something. I can smell it. Smells sweet."
"Like candy hearts," Claude agreed.
Trisha finally stepped in, her tone teasing but warm. "You'll tell us when you're ready, Carmela. But don't think we haven't noticed."
I looked away, sighing. "We're not together. Honestly."
"Not *yet,* maybe," Trisha said, eyeing me knowingly. "But you're getting there."
I hesitated. "Even if I wanted to… I can't. Not while I'm still in high school. My parents would be disappointed."
At that, Trisha gently took my hand and led me away from the others.
"Listen," she said, once we were alone. "There's nothing wrong with loving someone young—as long as you understand your limits. You're smart, Carmela. You know what your parents expect. I trust you not to lose yourself."
"I'm just scared," I admitted. "What if I fall too hard? I love with everything I have, and I don't know if that's a strength or a weakness."
"It's not a weakness," she said firmly. "Love is only dangerous when it's not returned. But when it is… it's the most beautiful thing you'll ever feel. Don't let fear stop you from experiencing something that could be real."
"Thank you, Trisha," I whispered. "That means more than you know."
She squeezed my hand. "That's what I'm here for."
Then, like a magician with perfect timing, she ushered Raziel into a quiet room and pushed me gently forward.
"You two need to talk," she said with a wink. "This time, be honest—with *each other.*"
We both replied softly, in unison, "Yes."
Neither of us had a choice now. And maybe… we didn't need one.
---