The first time I saw him, I didn't notice anything unusual. Just another boy leaning against the lockers, headphones in, lost in his own world.
Then he looked up.
And the world stopped.
It wasn't just his green eyes, though they were striking. It was the way he saw me—like he knew something I was too afraid to admit even to myself.
"Hey," he said, voice low, almost hesitant.
I wanted to speak, but my mouth wouldn't move. So I nodded. And that was it. The beginning. A spark, a question, a pull I couldn't name yet.
I didn't know then that he would become the reason I stayed awake at night, the reason my heart ached, and the reason I'd risk everything just to be close.