The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual. My alarm hadn't even gone off yet, but I was already wide awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking about… him.
Damien.
I told myself it was just curiosity. Just… friendly interest. But if I was being honest with myself, I knew it was more than that. The way he smiled, the way his voice sounded calm even when he said the simplest things… the way he looked at me like he actually wanted to listen.
And that sketchbook.
I couldn't stop thinking about what he might have been drawing yesterday.
I shook the thought away, got dressed, and headed to school, my heart weirdly excited just thinking about seeing him again.
---
When I walked into the classroom, he was already there.
Sitting in the same seat beside mine.
Head down. Hair falling slightly over his forehead. His fingers gently tapping his notebook like he had a tune in his head no one else could hear.
I sat down quietly, not wanting to break whatever moment he was in.
But then… he looked up.
And our eyes met.
Oh. My. God.
My heart skipped an entire beat — maybe two. His blue eyes locked onto mine for a second too long, and I swear I forgot how to breathe. A slow, gentle smile started forming on his face — not wide, just enough to make me feel all kinds of things at once.
I quickly looked away, pretending to organize my books. But my cheeks were burning. Like burning. I could feel it.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him glance at me again. And this time… he blushed.
Wait. He blushed?
I thought I imagined it at first. But no. His ears turned a little red, and he looked down at his notebook so quickly, it was almost funny. It made me smile — like a real, unfiltered, goofy kind of smile.
I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing.
This was… kind of adorable.
---
As the teacher started the lesson, I kept trying to focus, but my eyes kept drifting toward him. Every now and then, he would glance back at me too — just quick looks, as if he thought I wouldn't notice.
At one point, he leaned over and whispered, "You forgot your pencil."
I looked down. My pencil had rolled off my desk without me realizing.
He picked it up and handed it to me — our fingers brushing slightly as I took it from him.
Spark.
Or at least it felt like it.
"Thanks," I whispered.
He smiled and said softly, "You're welcome, Ava."
The way he said my name… it felt like a secret.
---
Halfway through class, the teacher started a group activity, and as luck would have it — Damien and I were paired together.
We sat closer now, looking at the same page in the textbook, our shoulders almost touching. And every time our eyes met, one of us would quickly look away like we'd been caught doing something we weren't supposed to.
But then… came the moment.
I made a silly mistake while solving a question, and Damien chuckled softly.
"Math isn't your thing, huh?" he teased gently, with that playful twinkle in his eyes.
I groaned dramatically and said, "I warned you."
He laughed — not the polite kind, but a real laugh. And for a moment, the space between us didn't feel awkward anymore. It felt warm. Safe.
Easy.
"I can help you with it sometime," he said. "If you want."
"Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," he said, brushing his hair back with one hand. "But only if you promise not to run away halfway through the lesson."
I smiled, pretending to think. "Hmm… I can't promise that."
He smirked. "Worth the risk."
---
By the end of the class, I had barely learned anything about history or whatever it was we were supposed to be studying. But I had learned one thing for sure:
I liked Damien.
And maybe — just maybe — he liked me too.