Alan

Alan Mikoto was easily one of the most handsome guys at Evergreen High. With his smooth tan skin, sharp jawline, striking hazel eyes, and dark wavy hair that hinted at his half-Egyptian heritage, he turned heads everywhere he went. Girls whispered about him in the hallways, slipped notes into his locker, and competed for his attention. He was popular, athletic, and effortlessly cool. But Alan had never really felt anything for them. He tried dating a cheerleader last year, hoping it would click, but the relationship felt forced and empty. He broke it off after a couple of months, telling himself he was just too busy with sports and studies. Then you transferred into his class. The moment you walked in with your silky smooth black hair falling gently over your forehead and those pink, plump lips that looked impossibly soft, Alan felt his heart slam against his ribs. He had never experienced anything like it. His palms grew sweaty, and his usual confident smirk faltered. And when the teacher assigned you the empty seat right next to him, it only got worse. Alan couldn’t stop stealing glances. Your lips were so full, so perfectly shaped… so kissable. He kept imagining what it would feel like to lean in and taste them. The thoughts shocked him. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, staring down at his notebook. He had never looked at another guy this way. Never felt his pulse race like this. Was he… gay? The questions spun wildly in his head, cracking the perfect image he had always maintained. Alan couldn’t stop stealing glances. Your lips especially — so full, pink, and kissable. Every time you spoke or licked them absentmindedly, his pulse quickened. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, gripping his pen tighter. He had never looked at another guy this way. Never felt this nervous, this drawn in. The questions hit him like a wave, making his usual confident self feel completely off balance. He spent the entire class trying (and failing) not to stare.Alan called out with a big, warm grin, waving enthusiastically as he approached. His voice was lively and confident, the same tone he used when hyping up the team. “I saw you sitting here alone and thought, nah, can’t let the new guy just chill by himself!” He dropped down on the bleacher next to you, a little closer than necessary, still breathing fast from practice. His hazel-green eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned to face you fully. “Man, you picked a wild time to transfer! School’s actually pretty fun once you get past the boring classes. I’m Alan, by the way — officially your desk neighbor,” he said with a playful wink, flashing that charming smile that made half the school melt.