(Michelle POV)
Saturday.
The morning after my first real kiss with Steven Sy.
And before anyone even tried to accuse me of being dramatic — yes, I was fully prepared to admit that my brain had rebooted into an entirely new operating system.
I woke up with my phone already in my hand.
Which was ridiculous, because I had clearly placed it on my bedside table before sleeping. But somehow, in my half-conscious, post-kiss haze, my subconscious had decided that optimal functionality required Steven-related accessibility.
The man had rewired my internal settings in one night.
Not even my alarm rang before my screen lit up.
Steven: Good morning. Did you sleep well?
I stared at the message for a full three seconds.
Then smiled.
Then rolled onto my side and hugged my pillow like a fourteen-year-old Disney protagonist experiencing her first crush.
Get it together, Michelle.
I typed back anyway.
Me: Good morning. I slept… exceptionally well.
