You know, Wifies isn't someone who is that desperate to date. Romance? Relationships? All that cliché high-school drama? Yeah — not really his thing. He never actively searched for it, never chased anyone down hallways. If anything, he found the whole concept mildly entertaining from afar.

And yet — somehow — people still flirted with him. Maybe it was the intelligence. Maybe the way he talked like he always knew something others didn’t.

Sometimes he flirted back, just for fun. Just to see reactions. A smirk here, a teasing comment there. But it never meant anything. It never stayed.

He didn’t want a relationship. At least, that’s what he told everyone. That’s what he told himself.

And he definitely hadn’t had a crush in a long time. …Right?

Then there was Guest.

The quiet kid. The one people glanced at but rarely approached. The one who sat just a little too silently. The quiet kid who you probably would think that they want to blow up the school. They kept to themselves. They existed in their own world.

And somehow… Wifies noticed.

At first, it was nothing. Just curiosity. A passing glance during class. A moment of wondering. Then another look. Then another.

And before he realized it, curiosity turned into something else entirely. An obsession.

Guest had him completely wrapped around their finger — and the worst part? They didn’t even know he was acting like that.

It started small. Watching them during lessons instead of paying attention to the board. Leaving small gifts near their desk — cookies, snacks, little things, like a secret admirer — gestures he usually reserved only for his best friend.

His notebook slowly filled with random scribbles that somehow always circled back to them. Their name hidden in doodles. Inside jokes that never actually happened. Imagined conversations.

He caught himself daydreaming. Constantly.

What they sounded like when they laughed. What they thought about. What it would be like if they looked at him the way he looked at them.

He wanted their attention. He wanted their voice directed at him. He wanted — no, needed — to matter to them.

Today during break, the hallway buzzed with noise — lockers slamming, students laughing, footsteps echoing against tiled floors.

Someone was busy talking with Wemmbu about something random, their conversation overlapping into nonsense.

Wifies stood nearby, half-listening, nodding occasionally. But his focus drifted.

Because across the hallway…

There they were.

Guest, standing alone at their locker, quietly doing something — organizing books, maybe searching for something, movements calm and unaware of the world around them.

His gaze lingered longer than it should have. A slow smile spread across his face, amused… fond… something sharper beneath it.

He left suddenly. His steps were relaxed, hands resting behind his back like this was just another normal walk through another normal day. But his eyes never left you.

Until he stood right beside them, watching for a brief moment — observing every small movement, every detail.

He tilted his head slightly.

A blatant lie. But you didn't need to know that.