Aiden || mlm

The morning sun cast long shadows across the freshly waxed hallway, highlighting the sheer chaos of Saint Jude Academy on a Tuesday morning. For a school that boasted high academic standing, its students spent a remarkable amount of energy whispering, hovering, and trying to get within five feet of Aiden. Aiden walked through the corridor with his hands shoved deep into his blazer pockets, his expression utterly blank. He was a senior, a fixture at the school since middle school, and by all accounts, completely untouchable. Boys wanted to sit at his lunch table; girls left anonymous drinks on his desk; teachers left him entirely alone because his grades were pristine and his demeanor was quiet. He preferred it that way. Solitude was efficient. It kept things simple. Then came the transfer student. You had arrived two weeks ago, looking hopelessly lost with a crumpled schedule and an eager, open smile that Aiden immediately classified as a liability. Unfortunately, the administration had assigned you the empty desk right beside his in AP Chemistry—the one class Aiden actually enjoyed because it usually required minimal small talk. "Hey, Aiden! Do you mind if I borrow an extra pen? Mine just completely dried out," you whispered, leaning over the aisle between your desks. Aiden didn't look up from his lab notebook. He slid a spare black ballpoint to the edge of his desk without a word. "Thanks! You're a life saver," you said, your voice warm and unnervingly bright. He mentally braced himself for the usual routine. Normally, when people realized Aiden gave them the cold shoulder, they took the hint within twenty-four hours and backed off. But you were infuriatingly persistent. Over the next few weeks, you became a constant, hovering presence. If Aiden was sitting alone under the shade of the oak tree during lunch, you would magically appear with two juice boxes, dropping one onto his lap before sitting down right next to him. When he walked to his locker, you were suddenly there, chatting about how difficult the history assignment was, completely unfazed by his silence or his sharp, clipped responses. "You don't have to keep sitting here," Aiden said one afternoon, his voice flat as he kept his eyes fixed on his textbook. "I prefer eating alone." "I know," you replied, unwrapping a sandwich and adjusting your seat so your shoulder lightly brushed against his. "But you look lonely, and besides, I like hanging out with you. Even if you don't talk much." Aiden tightened his grip on his book, feeling a strange, uncomfortable heat crawl up the back of his neck. Clingy. Annoying. Obnoxious. That was what he told himself. He pushed you away, ignoring your texts, walking faster in the hallways, and giving you the coldest stares he could muster. Yet every time he tried to push, you just smiled, adjusted your backpack, and cared a little harder. You noticed when he skipped breakfast and left a heated pastry on his desk. You noticed when his head dropped during third period and quietly slid your sweater under his elbow to act as a pillow. And that was where the real problem started. Aiden hated it. He hated the soft, persistent way you invaded his personal space. He hated how your touch made his heart do an embarrassing, erratic stutter in his chest. Most of all, he hated himself—because despite every wall he had built over the years, he was falling. Hard. By month two, Aiden’s nonchalant persona had become a carefully constructed lie holding back absolute chaos. He spent half his classes staring at the side of your face, watching the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed, or how you chewed on the cap of your pen when you were stumped on a math problem. When you touched his arm to get his attention, every nerve ending in his body went on high alert, even as he forced his expression to remain completely stony and uninterested. No one can know, he reminded himself every single day. Especially not them. And definitely not you. If the rest of the school found out that the icy, distant Aiden was utterly consumed by the new transfer student, it would turn into a circus. So he hid it with a terrifying level of perfection. To the rest of the class, he was still the same cold, detached Aiden who barely tolerated your existence. To you, he was still the quiet guy who always seemed slightly annoyed by your presence. Only Aiden knew the truth: he was losing his mind over you. The test of his restraint came on a rainy Thursday afternoon. Class had ended, and the hallways were clearing out. Aiden was packing his bag at his locker when he heard raised voices near the stairwell. "Come on, just give us your lab notes. It's not like you're doing anything else with them," a senior named Marcus sneered, blocking your path. Marcus was on the track team, loud, and used to getting his way. His buddy was leaning against the wall, laughing as he grabbed at your binder. "I said no," you insisted, pulling the folder closer to your chest, looking flustered and cornered. "Do your own work." "Don't be like that. You're the new kid, you're supposed to make friends—" Marcus reached out to grab your wrist, forcing you back against the lockers. Before Marcus's fingers could even close around your skin, a hand clamped down on his forearm with a grip like an iron vise. Marcus winced, whipping his head around. "What the—" Aiden was standing right behind him. His face was entirely devoid of emotion, but his eyes were pitch black with an intense, suffocating fury that made the air in the hallway feel instantly cold. He didn't say a word at first; he just squeezed Marcus's arm until the older boy let out a sharp hiss of pain and released you. "Touch him again," Aiden said, his voice terrifyingly quiet, dropping an octave lower than anyone had ever heard it, "and we’re going to have a serious problem." Marcus swallowed hard, looking between Aiden's stone-cold expression and the raw force holding his arm. Aiden wasn't a fighter, but everyone knew better than to cross him. He carried an aura that demanded distance, and right now, that aura was lethal. "Whatever, man. It was just a joke," Marcus muttered, jerking his arm back the second Aiden let go. He shoved his hands in his pockets and scurried off with his friend, visibly shaken. Aiden stood there for a second, his chest rising and falling slightly as he forced his breathing to steady. The rage in his chest was still burning, hot and dangerous. The thought of anyone putting their hands on you, hurting you, or making you feel small made a dark, possessive anger coil deep in his gut. He would burn this entire school down before he let anyone lay a finger on you. He turned to look at you. You were staring at him with wide, surprised eyes, clutching your binder to your chest. "Aiden... wow. Thanks. I didn't know you were right there." Aiden closed his eyes for a split second, locking every emotion, every ounce of panicked affection, and all his terrifying protectiveness back into a steel box. When he opened his eyes, the icy mask was completely back in place. "You're too careless," Aiden said coldly, turning around to grab his backpack off the floor and slinging it over one shoulder. "Stop letting people walk all over you. It's annoying to watch." He didn't wait for your response. He turned and walked down the hallway, his boots echoing sharply against the floor. Behind him, you stood there, feeling a mix of frustration and fondness, entirely unaware that the boy walking away was currently digging his fingernails into his palms to keep from turning around, pulling you into his arms, and never letting you go.

Three months had passed, and the crisp autumn air had officially given way to the sharp, biting chill of early winter. A light dusting of snow covered the school grounds, glowing softly under the amber streetlights as the clock ticked toward 3:00 AM. When the field trip was announced the week prior, the entire senior class had scrambled to claim their bus partners. Half the school had secretly hoped to sit next to Aiden, but you had walked right up to his desk with a bright smile, slammed your name down next to his on the sign-up sheet, and claimed the spot before anyone else could react. The classroom had erupted into stunned whispers. Aiden had merely raised an eyebrow, staring down at your written name with an expression of complete, bored indifference. Underneath that cold exterior, however, Aiden’s mind had gone into absolute overdrive. His heart had hammered against his ribs so violently he was convinced you could hear it. Sitting next to you for a six-hour drive? In a cramped bus seat? Shoulder to shoulder? He had spent the entire week internally panicking, mentally rehearsing how to act normal, and hating himself for how thrilled he actually was. On the morning of the trip, you arrived at the campus at 2:45 AM, practically vibrating with excitement. You adjusted your heavy backpack—packed precisely to the school's checklist with extra clothes, snacks, a power bank, and a thick fleece blanket—and waited near the glowing vending machines. What you didn't know was that Aiden was already there. He had been sitting on a dark bench near the shadowed edge of the courtyard since 2:30 AM, dressed in a heavy black coat, quietly watching you. He watched the way you bounced on your heels to stay warm, the way your breath puffed into tiny white clouds, and how your face lit up every time a new group of students walked through the gates. He stayed in the shadows, protecting you from afar, completely content just taking you in without the risk of being caught. By 3:50 AM, the campus was packed with loud, energetic high schoolers, and the fleet of charter buses idling in the parking lot filled the air with low rumbles. You began to panic. You scanned the crowd frantically, checking your phone every thirty seconds, but there was no sign of Aiden. "Alright, Class 4! Line up by Bus 3!" the teacher’s voice boomed through a megaphone. Your heart sank. You walked slowly toward the teacher, shoulders slumped, losing all hope. You assumed Aiden had ditched, or decided he didn't want to deal with you for an entire day. Tears of disappointment stung the corners of your eyes as you shuffled along at the back of the line toward the bus doors. Suddenly, a tall figure stepped smoothly out from the side shadow of the bus, seamlessly matching his stride to yours. You blinked, looked up, and stopped dead in his tracks. Aiden was walking right beside you, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, looking as if he had been there the entire time. "Aiden!" you gasped. Before he could react, you burst into relieved tears, throwing your arms around his torso and burying your face into his chest while still walking. "I thought you weren't coming! I was looking everywhere for you!" Aiden froze instantly, his entire body going rigid as your warmth hit him. His heart violently thudded against his chest, and his hands hovered awkwardly above your back, desperately wanting to pull you closer. Instead, he forced a deep scowl onto his face, relying on sheer willpower to keep his voice flat. "Knock it off," Aiden grunted, nudging you away with his elbow, though he didn't actually push very hard. "You're making a scene. I was just getting coffee from the lounge. Stop crying over nothing, it's embarrassing." You sniffled, wiping your eyes with your sleeve, but a huge, watery smile broke across your face anyway. You didn't care about his harsh words—he was here. They boarded the bus, and you immediately made a move for the coveted window seat. But Aiden, with his long legs, swiftly slid past you and took the window spot for himself without a second thought. You let out a soft huff, but you didn't mind. You happily dropped into the aisle seat right next to him, your knees brushing against his. The teacher stepped onto the bus, grabbing the microphone at the front to give the morning announcement. "Alright everyone, quiet down!" the teacher called out over the chatter. "We have a long day ahead of us for our Winter Cultural & Eco-Tour! We’ll be stopping at four incredible places today, so keep your schedule handy:

• The Glacier Peak Cable Cars: A high-altitude ride up the mountain for a panoramic winter view!
• The Frostbite Alpine Coaster: A mountain coaster where you control your own speed down the snowy tracks!
• The Old Town Winter Carnival & Food Market: Time to grab warm street food, play snow games, and shop!
• The Crystal Caverns & Ice Sculpture Festival: An underground cave system filled with giant, illuminated ice carvings!" As the teacher continued listing safety rules about keeping track of your power banks and staying with your assigned partners, you turned to Aiden, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "Did you hear that? Mountain coasters and ice sculptures! This is going to be amazing," you whispered, leaning in close. Aiden turned his head toward the dark window, leaning his cheek against his hand to hide the slight, unstoppable curl at the corner of his lips. "It sounds exhausting," he muttered coldly, staring at his reflection in the glass so you couldn't see the sheer, overwhelming happiness drowning him from the inside out.