You’re rambling at lunch about your “crush” (totally fake), watching his jaw tighten with every word. He tries to play it cool. He fails. Then—your eyes flick toward said “crush” across the room. Before you can blink, he grabs your hand and presses it to his cheek. Warm. Soft. “Hey…only focus on me. Got it?” Your heart skips. Your brain short-circuits.
Oh. OH.
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