Everyone had something to say about him before you ever met him.

His name always seemed to come with a warning attached. People lowered their voices when they talked about him, like saying too much would somehow bring trouble their way. They called him reckless. Cold. Difficult. The kind of person who didn't care about anyone but himself.

Some people said he was trouble you shouldn't get involved with. Others said he was the type of person who would disappear the moment things became too serious. He had a reputation for being distant, for never letting anyone get close enough to see what was underneath.

And honestly? You believed them.

Because when you finally saw him for yourself, he looked exactly like the rumors described.

He was intimidating without trying to be. The kind of person who could walk into a room and immediately change the atmosphere without saying a word. His expression was unreadable, his voice always calm, and there was something about him that made people think twice before approaching him.

He wasn't the kind of person who smiled easily. He wasn't the kind of person who went out of his way to make friends. He kept to himself, stayed surrounded by the same few people, and carried himself like he had spent years learning not to rely on anyone.

So when you first crossed paths with him, you expected the worst.

You expected someone arrogant. Someone who thought he was better than everyone else. Someone who would prove every rumor right.

But instead, you saw something different.

It wasn't obvious. Most people probably would've missed it.

The way his eyes softened for a brief second when he noticed someone struggling. The way he quietly helped without wanting credit for it. The way he acted like he didn't care, but somehow always noticed everything happening around him.

That was the part nobody talked about.

They talked about his temper, but not the fact that he walked away from fights when he could've made things worse.

They talked about his attitude, but not the fact that he was the first person to help someone who needed it.

They talked about how heartless he was, but not about the small moments where he showed more kindness than anyone expected.

Because nobody stayed around long enough to see it.

You weren't supposed to become someone who did.

At first, he didn't make it easy. He kept his distance, answering questions with short replies and pretending he wasn't interested in conversations. If you tried to get to know him, he'd brush it off. If you complimented him, he'd act like he didn't hear it.

It was almost like he was waiting for you to get tired and leave like everyone else.

But you didn't.

And that seemed to confuse him more than anything.

Slowly, you started noticing the little things. The way he remembered details you mentioned once and never brought up again. The way he always seemed to appear when you needed help, even if he pretended he was only there by coincidence.

The world saw someone dangerous.

You saw someone who didn't know how to accept being cared about.

Someone who had spent so long convincing everyone he didn't need anyone that he almost started believing it himself.

And maybe that was why he watched you so carefully. Maybe that was why he always seemed caught between pushing you away and wanting you closer.

Because you weren't afraid of him.

You didn't treat him like the person everyone claimed he was.

You treated him like a person.

And that was something he wasn't used to.

One night, after another long day of people judging him before they even knew him, he found himself sitting beside you in comfortable silence. No attitude. No walls. No pretending.

Just him.

For once, he wasn't the person everyone warned you about.

He was just someone who was tired of constantly being misunderstood.

His fingers tapped lightly against his knee as he stared ahead, avoiding your gaze like admitting anything out loud would be too much.

For a moment, he stayed quiet, letting the silence stretch between you. Normally, he would've found an excuse to leave. Normally, he would've put his walls back up before anyone got too comfortable.

But he stayed.

His fingers brushed against yours for a brief second before he pulled away, pretending it never happened.

"You know you're weird, right?"

His eyes finally met yours, a small smirk appearing.

"Most people would've believed everything they heard about me and stayed away."

A pause followed.

"But you didn't."

He looked away, acting like it wasn't a big deal.

"Annoying, honestly."

A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Don't stop though."

His friends had known him long before you ever came into his life.

They knew the version of him everyone else talked about.

The guy who never stayed attached to anyone. The guy who avoided serious conversations and acted like emotions were something he could simply ignore. The guy who could walk away from people without looking back and convince everyone, including himself, that he didn't care.

To them, that was just who he was.

Zane had always been difficult to understand.

He wasn't someone who opened up easily. He didn't talk about his feelings, didn't ask for help, and definitely didn't let people see the parts of him that he kept hidden.

So when they first found out about you, they didn't believe it.

Not because they didn't think someone would want him.

They just didn't think he would let someone stay.

They expected you to be temporary.

Another person who would eventually get tired of his walls and leave. Another person who would realize that underneath the attitude and reputation was someone who didn't know how to accept being cared about.

But then they started noticing things.

Small things.

Things they never thought they'd see from him.

The way he checked his phone more often than usual because he was waiting for your messages. The way he remembered your schedule without even realizing he knew it. The way he would casually mention something you liked, something you said weeks ago, something most people would've forgotten.

The worst part was that he didn't even notice he was doing it.

To him, it wasn't anything special.

It was just you.

And somehow, that made it even more surprising.

The first time his friends saw it was completely accidental.

They had stopped by expecting the same person they had always known. The same quiet, sarcastic guy who acted like nothing bothered him.

Instead, they walked in and saw him completely different.

Not unrecognizable.

Just softer.

He wasn't putting on an act. He wasn't trying to impress anyone. He wasn't pretending not to care.

He was just comfortable.

And that was something they had almost never seen from him.

The person who supposedly hated affection was letting you steal his clothes.

The person who claimed he didn't need anyone was making sure you got home safely.

The person who acted like nothing affected him was immediately noticing when something was wrong with you.

It was almost embarrassing how obvious it was.

His friends didn't even have to ask.

They already knew.

The same guy who would ignore everyone else's advice would actually listen when you told him he was being reckless.

The same guy who would argue with anyone would immediately calm down when you asked him to.

The same guy who pushed everyone away somehow became the person who always made room for you.

Of course, the moment they mentioned it, he immediately denied everything.

He leaned back, acting completely unbothered, like they weren't pointing out something painfully obvious.

They laughed because they had never seen him get defensive over something so harmless.

Not angry defensive.

Embarrassed defensive.

Because for once, they weren't teasing him about something he did wrong.

They were teasing him about something he actually cared about.

And that was the part he hated.

Not because they knew.

Because they were right.

After years of everyone assuming they knew who he was, his closest friends were finally seeing the person you had already known for a while.

The person underneath the reputation.

The person who wasn't as cold as he wanted everyone to believe.

The person who, despite everything, had finally found someone he didn't want to lose.

Later that night, after they left, he sat beside you quietly, still pretending their comments hadn't gotten to him.

His expression was neutral, but you could tell he was thinking about it.

After a moment, he finally spoke.

"They're annoying."

A pause.

His eyes shifted toward you.

"They act like they've never seen me happy before."

A small smirk appeared on his face.

"Which is probably because they haven't."

He looked away, shaking his head slightly.

"Don't let it get to your head though."

A brief pause.

"You're still annoying."

Everyone had an opinion about him.

That was nothing new.

For years, Zane had been used to people deciding who he was before they ever bothered to ask. They heard a story, saw a rumor, witnessed one bad moment, and suddenly they thought they understood everything about him.

They saw the attitude.

The silence.

The way he kept people at a distance.

They saw someone who looked like trouble and assumed that was all there was.

And usually, he didn't care.

At least, that's what he told himself.

He had spent years building that reputation without even realizing it. The cold expressions. The careless attitude. The way he acted like nothing mattered enough to hurt him.

It was easier that way.

If people already expected the worst from him, there was nothing to prove.

But things were different now.

Because now, there was someone who saw past it.

You.

And that made everything harder.

Because for the first time, he had something to lose.

The rumor started small.

A comment here. A conversation there. Someone bringing up something from his past that had been exaggerated and twisted until it barely resembled the truth anymore.

Normally, he would've ignored it.

He would've laughed it off, shrugged, and moved on.

But this time, it followed him home.

This time, it wasn't just strangers talking about him.

It was people talking about him while knowing he had someone who cared about him.

Someone who might hear it.

Someone who might start wondering if maybe everyone else was right.

And that thought bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

Because he could handle people hating him.

He could handle being misunderstood.

He could handle being the person everyone warned others about.

But he couldn't handle the possibility of you looking at him differently.

The moment he walked through the door, you noticed something was wrong.

Not because he said anything.

He never did.

But you knew him well enough by now.

You noticed the way he was quieter than usual. The way he avoided eye contact. The way he dropped his keys down harder than necessary and immediately tried to distract himself with anything else.

It was the same person everyone else saw.

Distant.

Closed off.

Impossible to read.

But you knew better.

You knew when his silence meant he was angry.

And when it meant he was hurt.

Tonight was the second one.

For once, he wasn't fighting with someone else.

He was fighting with the version of himself that everyone else believed in.

He hated that it bothered him.

He hated that some random person's opinion could get under his skin.

Most of all, he hated that a small part of him wondered if maybe they were right.

Maybe eventually you would get tired of defending him.

Maybe eventually you would see what everyone else saw.

Maybe eventually you would decide he wasn't worth the effort.

And that thought scared him more than he would ever admit.

He sat beside you quietly, staring ahead.

Usually, he would make a joke.

Usually, he would pretend nothing happened.

But this time, he didn't.

Because pretending was easy when he only had himself to worry about.

It was harder when someone else mattered.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"I know what people say about me."

His voice was quieter than usual.

A pause.

"I know the kind of person they think I am."

His fingers tapped lightly against his knee as he avoided looking at you.

"I don't care what they think."

Another pause.

Then his expression changed slightly.

Not anger.

Something closer to uncertainty.

"But sometimes I wonder if one day you're going to start believing them too."

The words seemed to bother him the second they left his mouth, like he regretted admitting it.

He looked away.

"You're going to believe them eventually, aren't you?"

A quiet silence followed.

"Everyone does."

Everyone assumed there was something between you two.

At this point, it was almost impossible to convince anyone otherwise.

His friends had stopped asking questions because they already knew there was something going on. Your friends had noticed the way he looked at you. Even strangers could see the way he naturally gravitated toward you without thinking.

But whenever someone asked, Zane always had the same response.

You weren't together.

And technically, he was right.

There had never been a conversation where either of you sat down and decided what this was. No official confession. No relationship announcement. No moment where he looked at you and asked you to be his.

There was just everything that came before that.

The late-night conversations that stretched until sunrise. The way he would show up without warning just because he wanted to see you. The way he slowly stopped keeping you at a distance.

Somewhere along the way, the line between friendship and something more disappeared.

You had become comfortable with each other in a way neither of you expected.

You knew the quiet sides of him that nobody else saw. You knew when his silence meant he was upset and when it meant he simply needed space. You had seen him without the attitude, without the reputation, without the walls he showed everyone else.

And he had gotten used to you being there.

Used to your presence in his space.

Used to your clothes ending up at his place.

Used to falling asleep beside you after nights where neither of you wanted to leave.

Used to the closeness that came with spending so much time together.

The two of you had already crossed the boundaries most people would consider impossible to ignore. The stolen kisses had become normal. The lingering touches had become familiar. The moments where you ended up wrapped around each other, forgetting about everything outside of the room, had happened enough times that pretending there was nothing between you became almost ridiculous.

But Zane still refused to call it anything.

Because a label meant admitting it was real.

And real things could be lost.

That was the part he never talked about.

Zane knew how to handle people leaving when they never mattered enough to hurt him.

He knew how to walk away before anyone else had the chance.

But you were different.

You had seen the worst parts of him and stayed.

You had heard the rumors and still chosen to know him for yourself.

You had gotten close enough to see the person behind the reputation.

And somehow, that scared him more than anything.

Because he had spent years convincing everyone that he didn't need anyone.

Then you came along and became the one person he couldn't imagine not having.

So he convinced himself that keeping things undefined was easier.

No label meant no expectations.

No expectations meant no pressure.

No pressure meant there was less of a chance of him ruining something good.

Except his actions had already given him away.

Because even without calling you his, he acted like you were.

He was the first person you went to when something happened.

The first person who noticed when something was wrong.

The person who remembered things you mentioned once and pretended he didn't care enough to remember.

The person who would complain about you being difficult while making sure you had everything you needed.

Everyone else could see it.

The only person still pretending was him.

One night, after another evening spent together, the two of you sat quietly in his room.

The kind of silence that only existed between people who were already comfortable with each other.

There was no awkwardness. No uncertainty. No distance.

Just the quiet familiarity of two people who had become a part of each other's lives without ever officially deciding to.

His fingers brushed against yours absentmindedly before he realized what he was doing and pulled back slightly.

Not because he didn't want to.

Because he did.

And that was exactly the problem.

After a moment, he finally spoke.

"You know people think we're together, right?"

His eyes stayed focused ahead.

"They keep asking questions like they already know the answer."

A quiet laugh escaped him, but there wasn't much humor behind it.

"Which is annoying."

He glanced toward you, his expression softer than usual.

"Because technically... they're wrong."

The words sounded less convincing the longer he sat with them.

Because he knew how it looked.

He knew how it felt.

He knew that whatever this was, it had already become something more than either of you wanted to admit.

He looked away, shaking his head slightly.

"I know how that sounds."

A faint smirk appeared.

"I'm aware I'm terrible at making a point."

The silence returned.

Then his voice lowered.

"I just don't know what happens if I actually call it something."

Zane had always been good at pretending he didn’t care.

It was something people noticed about him almost immediately.

The way he walked through crowded hallways with that unreadable expression on his face. The way he ignored rumors, whispers, and people trying to figure him out. The way he acted like nothing could get close enough to actually matter.

That was the version everyone knew.

The guy with the reputation.

The one people warned others about before they even got the chance to meet him.

But somehow, you had become the one exception.

His friends had already noticed it. They had seen the difference in him. The way someone who claimed he hated attention would always know where you were. The way someone who acted like he didn't need anyone had somehow made room for you without even realizing it.

And Zane still refused to put a name on it.

There was no label.

No official relationship.

Just whatever existed between the two of you.

Something that everyone else seemed to understand except him.

Because he could say you weren't together all he wanted.

But he was still the person who waited for you after class.

Still the person who remembered your schedule.

Still the person who found excuses to be around you even when he pretended it was a coincidence.

And today was no different.

It started with something small.

A folded note slid across the desk during class.

No name.

No explanation.

Just a few words written in Zane's messy handwriting.

You didn't even have to look up to know who it was from.

Across the room, he sat back in his chair, pretending to pay attention to the lecture. His expression was completely neutral, like he hadn't just distracted you in the middle of class.

But the slight smirk on his face gave him away.

You knew him too well now.

You knew when he was bored.

You knew when he was amused.

And you definitely knew when he was about to do something he probably shouldn't.

A few minutes later, another note appeared.

Shorter this time.

A simple suggestion.

A time.

A place.

The kind of thing that was a terrible idea the second you read it.

Which was exactly why you agreed.

The two of you waited until the professor turned around, quietly gathering your things and slipping out of the classroom without drawing attention.

Zane walked beside you like he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Hands in his pockets.

Expression calm.

Completely unbothered.

Like sneaking out of class wasn't something that could get you both in trouble.

But that was Zane.

He had always been good at making bad decisions feel like they weren't that bad.

One empty hallway turned into another.

A quick glance around to make sure nobody was nearby.

And somehow, the two of you ended up somewhere neither of you had any reason to be.

The janitor's closet.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, the sounds of the college disappeared.

No classmates.

No professors.

No rumors.

No expectations.

Just the two of you.

The space was cramped, but neither of you cared.

Because this wasn't new.

This wasn't some random moment that happened once and would be forgotten.

The two of you had already crossed that line.

The stolen moments.

The late nights.

The closeness that neither of you wanted to admit meant something.

Somewhere along the way, being around each other had become natural.

Too natural.

Zane, the same person who spent years keeping everyone at a distance, was the person who now let you get closer than anyone else.

His usual guarded expression was gone.

No attitude.

No pretending.

Just the version of him that only appeared when nobody else was around.

The two of you were already lost in the moment, making out quietly in the small space, completely forgetting about the fact that either of you could get caught.

His hands rested at your waist as he kept you close, his usual confidence replaced by something softer. He wasn't thinking about his reputation. He wasn't thinking about what anyone else would say.

He was just there.

With you.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss along your neck before pulling back slightly, a faint smirk appearing on his face.

Because for someone who acted like he never cared about anything, he was surprisingly bad at staying away from you.

Then suddenly—

The handle moved.

Both of you froze.

The door shook slightly.

A voice came from the other side.

"Yo, who's in there?"

For once, Zane actually looked caught off guard.

Not scared.

Just annoyed that reality had decided to interrupt.

His eyes shifted toward the door before looking back at you.

The smallest hint of amusement appeared on his face, like he couldn't believe this was actually happening.

The handle moved again.

"Seriously, I know someone's in there."

Zane stayed completely still, listening as the footsteps paused outside.

The closet suddenly felt much smaller.

A few seconds ago, neither of you had cared about anything outside that door.

Now, one wrong move and you'd both have some explaining to do.

Zane leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice.

"This is probably the worst hiding spot we've ever picked."

A pause.

His eyes flickered toward the door before returning to you.

A small smirk tugged at his lips.

"And somehow, I already know you're going to blame me for this."

.