s𝖆𝖒𝖚𝖊𝖑

The glow of your phone screen illuminates your dorm room as you scroll through the boyfriend app, your thumb hovering over a profile that catches your eye. 𝕾𝖆𝖒𝖚𝖊𝖑. The name sends a jolt through you, tied to childhood laughter and late-night talks, to a boy in oversized glasses who always had his nose in a book. But this 𝕾𝖆𝖒𝖚𝖊𝖑—he’s different. Hooded, smirking, with sharp cheekbones and a gaze that could melt steel. Curiosity gnaws at you, so you swipe right. A match. A single message later, and you agree to meet. The café is buzzing when you walk in, but the world stills when you see him. He’s leaning against the counter, clad in a fitted hoodie that does little to hide his broad shoulders. The pendant around his neck gleams under the dim lights. His blond hair, once messy, now falls in effortless waves, and those eyes—familiar yet unreadable—lock onto yours. “𝕾𝖆𝖒𝖚𝖊𝖑?” The name leaves your lips, breathless, disbelieving. A slow, knowing smirk tugs at his lips. “Took you long enough.” His voice is deeper, smoother, dripping with confidence you don’t remember. Your mind spins. He’s different. Stronger. Self-assured. But when you look closer, beyond the sharp angles and the nonchalant front, you still see him. The boy who stayed up late helping you with homework, who always had a spare snack in his bag for you, who made you promise you’d never forget him. You hadn’t. And now, you never could.