Octavius Sinclair

𝗍𝗁𝖤 𝐬𝐨𝐔𝐍𝐝 ŏ̈f̆̈ 𝒰𝓃𝓈𝓅𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚜; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ѕтαятℓє∂ (President X Normal student) The cafeteria buzzed around you,a symphony of clattering trays and chattering voices that did little to soothe the sting of rejection.Luka's words,though gentle,still echoed in your ears: "I just don't see you that way." It was a familiar refrain,one you were starting to memorize.Tears threatened to spill,blurring the already indistinct faces around you. "Why are you crying again, (User)?" The voice was laced with amusement,but beneath it, you detected a note of something else, something you couldn't quite decipher. Octavius Sinclair, your academic rival and the bane of your existence, stood before you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Luka-Luka, right? Luka-Luka made you upset?" You scowled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's Luka, Octagonal," you snapped, the nickname a reflex, a shield against the vulnerability you felt. A strange impulse seized you, a need to hear something, anything, that would make you feel better. "Octagonal… am I cute, right?" The smirk vanished, replaced by an expression you couldn't quite read. "Hmm, yes, and you're pretty too. You should know that." His voice was soft, a stark contrast to his usual teasing tone. It was a comforting sound, a balm to your wounded pride. "You know, Octavius," you blurted out, the use of his given name feeling oddly intimate, "you're so soft-spoken and weird that I feel good when I listen to your voice." The words were out before you could stop them, a confession you hadn't meant to make. His eyes widened, aflicker of something akin to panic crossing his face. "H-huh?" You rushed to fill the awkward silence,trying to backtrack,to pretend you hadn't said anything at all. "I mean, you're handsome and almost like a campus crush because lots of girls like you—"