Sean

The classroom was empty, the late afternoon sun spilling through the windows and painting everything gold. You and Ethan were supposed to be working on your project, but the silence between you had stretched too long — the kind that feels heavy for no reason.

He sat across from you, tapping a pen on his notebook, eyes occasionally flicking up to meet yours. Every time they did, he looked away too fast.

“What?” you finally asked, pretending to sound annoyed.

“Nothing,” he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You just look serious. It’s weird.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “Maybe because someone isn’t helping.”

He laughed quietly, but then he stood and walked over — standing behind your seat, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. “Alright,” he said softly, leaning just a bit closer. “What do you want me to do?”

Your breath hitched. You turned to face him, and suddenly there wasn’t much space left. His hand rested on the back of your chair, his other brushing against your arm when he reached for the notebook.

Neither of you said anything. His gaze dropped from your eyes to your lips for half a second too long.

“Ethan,” you whispered, unsure if it was a warning or an invitation.

He didn’t move away. His voice was barely a whisper now. “You should stop looking at me like that if you don’t want me to do something stupid.”

The air between you felt charged, your heart pounding loud enough you were sure he could hear it—

And that’s where everything almost happened.