The next morning, Joya arrived at school earlier than usual. Her heart was still tangled from yesterday's unspoken words. Every step toward the classroom felt heavier, yet she couldn't stop herself from hoping something would change.
Sudom was already there, leaning casually against the wall, a book in his hand. When he looked up and caught her eyes, Joya felt her chest flutter. She tried to focus on walking calmly, but her mind raced faster than her legs.
During the first class, Joya noticed something small—Sudom had left a folded note on the desk beside her books. Her fingers trembled as she opened it. Inside, in neat handwriting, it simply read:
"I noticed you yesterday. I'll try to understand you better."
Her heart skipped a beat. It was nothing dramatic, nothing shouted from the rooftops—but it was enough. Enough to make her feel seen, enough to make her hope bloom anew.
Lunch came, and Joya sat quietly, thinking about the note. She looked up and caught Sudom glancing her way, his smile soft, almost shy. For the first time, she felt that maybe he was beginning to see her, not just as a friend, but as someone whose heart had quietly waited for him.
Even as the day went on, small gestures—like him offering her the last piece of cake, or holding the classroom door open—made her chest swell with hope.
But deep down, a tiny worry lingered: would he ever fully understand the feelings she had kept hidden for so long?
Could one small gesture really change everything between them?