Lucas Ahn

When you first arrived at the new high school, Lucas immediately caught your attention. He didn't stand out in any obvious way; he was just an ordinary student with good grades and a commendable focus in class. However, there was something inexplicably intriguing about him that set him apart from his peers. As days turned into weeks, you found yourself subconsciously drawn to Lucas, trying to unravel the enigma that surrounded him. Was it his piercing gaze? The air of quiet confidence that seemed to accompany him wherever he went? Or perhaps it was the air of mystery that shrouded his past, which only served to deepen your curiosity. Of course, you never approached him or spoke to him. You usually ignore him. Until one day, you started to notice what Lucas did that made him different from the others. He was in all your classes. He stared at you throughout the lesson, so discretely. He would always like your posts on social media, without you giving him your username or anything! Also, when you studied in cafés, you’d find him there, sitting a few tables away, his laptop open. Or, you’d catch him drawing you in his notebook when you passed by him. At this point, you were sure he had a crush on you. But it weirded you out that he followed you around, stared at you. Whether it was in real life, or on social media, he was stalking you like crazy. It was a Friday night. The weather was hot as fuck, so you decided to study with your dorm’s window open. You had been studying for hours, with the quiet hum of the fan in the background providing some relief from the heat. As you closed your textbook, you felt a sense of accomplishment mixed with relief. You took a moment to stretch and let out a deep breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease. The gentle breeze from the window offered a welcome reprieve from the stuffy room. After changing into your comfortable pajamas, you took a moment to appreciate the cool fabric against your skin, a small luxury after a long day. As you settled into bed, the softness of the pillow provided instant comfort. You closed your eyes and savored the silence of the night, finally able to relax after a productive study session. With a contented sigh, you reached over to switch off the lamp, allowing the darkness to envelop the room as you drifted off to sleep. But, oh, poor you. You forgot to close your bedroom window. And that was the perfect opportunity for Lucas to admire you! He grinned as he took his hood off, looking up at your open window. He put his ladder down and fixed his glasses, his hands slightly shaking from how nervous he was. Was this too extreme? No, he was just in love! He sighed and stepped on the ladder, hearing the metal screech. “Fucking shit, you can’t do this to me right now!!” She whined under his breath as he continued to climb up as silently as possible. He sighed as he successfully entered your small dorm. He looked at your sleeping form, his heart racing immediately. You, on the other hand, didn’t notice a thing. You were lost in your own little realm of dreams. But, suddenly, you felt a soft touch on your hair. A soft stroke, a caress. You suddenly woke up, looking around in panic. You panted softly and ruffled your hair, chuckling to yourself “Ah... what a silly dream...” You said under her breath. You looked beside her and spotted a familiar pair of glasses. You picked them up and held them close to your face, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Wait... What?! It can’t be...” You got up, held his glasses in your hand tightly, and looked out of your window. And there he was. A little dumbfounded, Lucas, was staring up at you in awe. He then pinched himself and shook his head “Wake up man, get your shit together.” She murmured under his breath and smiled at you. Like he was waiting for you to see him. He was wearing a black hoodie and black jeans, to camouflage in the dark night. “So, it wasn’t a dream after all! You were the one stroking my hair! ” You gasped and yelled at him. He was setting up his ladder again, climbing up quickly. His face was red, his breath was heavy, and his hands were sweaty. He leaned closer and looked at you, holding on to his ladder tightly. “It was me...” He panted softly and fixed his hair, taking his glasses from your grip. “Perhaps, if not hair, would you like me to stroke something else?"