The only sound breaking the afternoon silence was the scrape of her flat white shoes against the scattered gravel along the path. Aria walked with steps she strove to make confident, beneath the shadows of towering palm trees whose fronds danced in the bright daylight.
She wore a light purple dress with a V-neckline, entirely covered in shimmering sequins that reflected the sunlight with every movement, adorned with a delicate belt of pearl beads matching her subtle earrings perfectly. She raised her trembling hand to adjust her glasses—frames patterned with leopard print, which had always slipped down the bridge of her nose—while her long brown hair fell in an elegant, tightly woven braid over her shoulder. She whispered words of encouragement to herself, waving her hands through the air as if conducting an orchestra of conflicting emotions, trying to convince herself she was ready.
She stopped before a dark wooden door, massive and carved with ornate details suggesting luxury. She took a deep breath and pierced the silence with firm knocks.
The door opened slowly, revealing an elderly woman with short white hair, dressed in a white shirt and black pants. In one hand she held a white cloth; in the other, a yellow cleaning bottle emitting a sharp lemon scent. The woman's eyes widened briefly in surprise before Aria asked, voice shy yet eyes gleaming with hope: "Is… is Ben here?"
The woman's expression shifted; surprise faded, replaced by hesitation tinged with pity—as though she understood exactly the weight of emotion this girl carried. Without a word, she gently closed the door, leaving Aria facing the cold wood.
But Aria did not give up. Somehow, she found her way inside.
She now stood in a warmly lit interior hallway, walls lined with elegant wooden panels, a framed picture of a green fern centered upon them. There, in that quiet solitude, she began rehearsing her confession. Her expressions oscillated between tense determination and forced, confident smiles.
"Ben…" she whispered aloud, eyes fixed on an imaginary point on the wall, "I've had a crush on you since middle school… and I want… I want you to be my first—with someone I trust."
The moment the words "middle school" left her lips, a cold memory flashed through her mind, pulling her from the hallway's warmth into the harshness of the past.
Quick transition… a cold white fluorescent light pierces the eyes.
She sat in a sterile, brightly lit classroom. She wore her usual school uniform: a dark blue blazer, a white button-up shirt, a pleated gray skirt, and a blue tie adorned with an elegant brooch. Her beige bag rested beside her.
Aria tried to shrink into her seat, adjusting her glasses with fumbling fingers, while whispers from two nearby girls crept into her ears. One had dark curly hair, the other long straight hair; both wore the same uniform but carried looks of harsh superiority.
"Can you imagine? She's still a virgin!" one whispered with a forced, disdainful smile.
Blood rushed to Aria's cheeks. She lowered her head and began packing her books with trembling hands, wishing the earth would swallow her to escape the students' chatter filling the room.
Suddenly, silence fell.
The classroom door opened, and Ben Carson entered. Breathtakingly handsome, with neatly styled brown hair, a precisely tailored dark blue suit, and a striped tie, he carried a black backpack slung confidently over one shoulder. An aura of charm and allure seemed to follow his every step, drawing every gaze—even the girls who had whispered moments before now stared with clumsy admiration.
Yet amid all those watching eyes, his searched for one person.
Aria lifted her head. Through the lenses of her glasses, their eyes met. A shy smile, filled with silent hope, touched her lips. In return, Ben offered a charming, warm, confident smile that sent her heart racing and made her look down again, a delicate smile lingering as she finished organizing her bag.
Return to the present.
Aria closed her eyes in the wooden hallway, shaking the memories from her shoulders. The sequins of her purple dress shimmered under the warm lighting as she took one final deep breath. Her expression shifted; tension vanished, replaced by sudden resolve.
She walked steadily toward a simple wooden door at the hallway's end. She knocked lightly, then slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open.
The moment she stepped inside, her eyes widened in astonishment. The room was modern, decorated with minimalist art pieces—but what stole her breath was not the decor.
Ben stood there, having just stepped out of the bathroom. His broad, muscular chest was bare, water droplets still sliding down skin that glistened under the light. He wrapped a white towel around his waist as the sound of dripping water gradually faded into the background.
Aria swallowed hard, throat dry. She walked toward him on tiptoe in her white shoes, as if afraid to break the spell of the moment.
"Ben…" Her voice trembled slightly, but she forced herself onward. "What do you say we try something different tonight?"
Before he could reply, she approached from behind. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her soft hands touching his damp skin. Heart pounding like war drums, she lifted her head and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to his shoulder. Her eyes were wide, overflowing with a captivating mix of surprise, fear, and virginal excitement; her lips parted slightly in anticipation of his response.
His body did not stiffen. On the contrary, a calm smile touched his lips as he slowly turned to face her. He placed his warm hand tenderly on her arm while Aria's hand slid down to rest on his bare chest, her wide eyes still filled with awe and expectation.
Ben looked down at her face—a blend of fear and eagerness. His smile widened, warm and teasing. In a low voice that melted every fear, he whispered:
"Is this your usual move?"