He walked away without looking back.
Good.
Because if he had…
He might've caught the smile I was trying very, very hard not to let slip.
Lucian Kim.
That boy couldn't hide a thing to save his life.
The way he looked at me while I explained his mistake? Like he wanted to remember every word, not just for the quiz—but because it was me saying it. It wasn't the kind of attention students usually gave to entropy and Clausius' formulation. No. It was something else. Something reckless. Something dangerous.
The way his jaw clenched every time our arms almost brushed when I handed him his paper, or leaned a little too close over his shoulder? The flush rising up his neck when I called his score flawless? It was painfully, ridiculously obvious.
It would've been adorable if it weren't so… dangerous.
I wasn't supposed to notice things like that.
Wasn't supposed to like it.
But when he walked out beside Ayaan, still pink in the ears and mumbling something under his breath, probably getting teased to hell and back, I felt it. A little flutter. Low in my chest. The kind you feel when you know you should look away—but don't.
And the worst part? It wasn't the first time.
Lucian had this… presence. Quiet, restless, and unpredictable. He wasn't loud like Ayaan, or overly confident like some of the others. No—he was careful. A little sharp around the edges. And every time his eyes caught mine, it felt like being seen in a way I'd spent years avoiding.
He didn't know it, but he carried my attention like a match in a room full of gasoline.
And I had no business letting it burn like this.
Especially not when I still felt the echo of his gaze on me… even after he was gone.
I turned back to the desk, picked up the rest of the graded quizzes, and forced myself to breathe.
Just a student.
Just a quiz.
Just a boy who didn't know what he was doing to me.
And I needed to keep it that way.
For both our sakes.
But God, did he make it hard.
Every time he sat in my class, head tilted in thought, thumb absently tapping his pencil against the desk. Every time he bit his bottom lip while solving a problem, eyes narrowing in concentration. Every time he asked a question and accidentally made it sound like he cared what I thought more than the answer itself.
I hated how sharp my awareness of him had become. I knew what his laugh sounded like. I could pick it out in a crowded hallway. I knew he preferred mechanical pencils over ballpoints. Knew he drank his coffee black and way too strong. Knew he always arrived three minutes before class started, sat in the second row, third seat from the left. And that if I stood by the window, he'd pretend to check the clock just to sneak a look at me.
I wasn't supposed to notice.
But I did.
And maybe it wasn't so harmless anymore.
I gathered my things, slung my bag over my shoulder, and let out a long, steady breath. It was fine. I was fine. This was fine.
It had to be.
Because if I let myself fall for him… I wouldn't be able to stop.
And I wasn't sure I wanted to.