Mihai
MIHAI
I take a breath, running a hand through my hair as I head to Maddy’s Suite. This is fucking ridiculous. I’ve never been nervous about being around a girl in my life, but here I am, feeling like I’m about to take some damn exam.
Connor had a field day with it earlier, giving me pointers, laughing like he couldn’t believe I needed advice.
“Just be yourself, but, you know, not the scary version,” he said with a smirk. Real helpful. “Don’t overthink it, talk to her. And for fuck’s sake, relax.”
Yeah, easy for him to say. The guy’s practically built for this kind of thing.
I get to her door and give a light knock, then step back, trying to look as casual as possible. When the door opens, and Maddy steps out, all of that effort goes right out the window.
She’s wearing a pair of black shorts and a black tank, her blonde hair pulled up, exposing her shoulders and the ink I’d caught glimpses of before. My gaze drifts down to the peacock tattoo spiraling across her thigh, her curves framed by those damn boots, and I feel my pulse kick up.
She looks… fuck, she looks amazing. And I know I’m staring, but I can’t seem to help it.
“Ready?” I ask, managing to keep my voice steady, though inside I feel like I’m barely holding it together.
She nods, giving me a small, almost shy smile. She grabs a notepad from her bag, and for some reason, that little detail makes something soften in my chest. She’s prepared, ready to say what she needs, even if she can’t speak it out loud.
We walk in silence down the trail leading to the forest behind the Crown Suites, past a hidden path that winds its way to a creek. It’s a spot the guys and I usually go to when we want to have our own space, away from campus, away from prying eyes.
The air is cooler here, and the sound of running water fills the quiet.
When we reach the creek, I find a flat patch of grass by the edge and gesture for her to sit. She settles down beside me, stretching her legs out, looking around with that quiet curiosity of hers.
The sunlight filters through the trees, catching the highlights in her hair, and I find myself staring before I can stop. The scent of strawberries fills the air and I force myself to look away, focusing on the creek as I gather my thoughts.
“So,” I say, picking up a small stone and tossing it into the creek. “You, uh… you look comfortable out here.”
She gives me a curious look, one eyebrow raised, then scribbles on her notepad before showing it to me.
Feels peaceful
I nod, feeling a bit of the tension ease. “Yeah, that’s why I come out here. It’s like… there’s nothing to worry about, at least for a little while.”
She smiles softly, and I can’t help but return it, even though I’m not usually one to get all sentimental. I pick up another stone, rolling it between my fingers before speaking again.
“I, uh… saw some of your videos,” I say, my voice quieter. “You’ve got a great voice, Maddy. Really, it’s… it’s something else. I would love to hear you do it again someday.”
She looks down, her cheeks tinged pink, and I can tell the compliment caught her off guard. She takes a moment, then writes on her notepad.
I don’t know if I can ever talk again, let alone sing
The words hit me hard, and I feel this wave of protectiveness, this urge to somehow change that reality for her. I look at her, seeing the pain and frustration in her eyes, the weight she’s been carrying.
“Hey,” I murmur, meeting her gaze. “You’re still you, Maddy. Voice or no voice. And I’d be lucky to hear it, anytime you’re ready.”
Her eyes hold mine, and there’s a vulnerability there, a hint of sadness that makes me want to pull her close, make her see herself the way I’m seeing her right now. But instead, she just looks down, her fingers tracing the lines of ink on her notepad.
She starts writing again, and I wait, watching the way her brow furrows slightly, her focus intense.
Music was everything to me. Without it… I don’t feel like myself
My chest tightens at her words, and I want to tell her that she’s more than just a voice, that there’s so much to her, so many layers that make her incredible. But I know that won’t change how she feels.
Instead, I decide to level with her, to share a little more of myself.
“I get it,” I say, my voice low. “When I was younger, my life was all about my family, the traditions, the things that defined me. And I thought that without them, I’d be… empty, like nothing would matter.” I pause, running a hand through my hair.
“But I realized… we’re more than just one thing, you know? Sometimes we lose parts of ourselves, but it doesn’t mean we’re lost. It just… it just means we’ve got more to find.”
She listens, her gaze intense, absorbing my words, and she writes again.
How do you know when you’re ready to find those parts again?
I exhale, taking a moment before answering. “You don’t, honestly. You just… you just try. One small thing at a time.”
She nods, looking thoughtful, like she’s letting it sink in. For a moment, the air between us feels heavy, filled with things neither of us is saying. And then, almost instinctively, my hand reaches out, brushing over the edge of her peacock tattoo on her thigh.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, my thumb tracing the edge of the feathers. “You’re beautiful, Maddy.”
She bites her lip, looking down, her cheeks turning pink again, and I feel this strange satisfaction at being the one to make her react like that. I don’t know what this is between us, but whatever it is, it feels real.
It’s not forced, not something I’m putting on. She brings out a side of me I don’t recognize, and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, but I know I don’t want it to stop.
She writes again, and when she hands it over, I can’t help but smile.
You’re not what I expected
“Yeah?” I ask, glancing at her, my smirk widening. “Thought I’d be more of an ass?”
She nods, her expression playful, and scribbles another note.
You were an arse
I laugh, shaking my head. “Touché.”
We fall into a comfortable silence again, the kind that doesn’t need words. Just being here, next to her, it feels… natural. Like we’re finding our own rhythm, one that doesn’t need all the noise.
After a while, I feel her lean a little closer, and I can’t help but glance over, taking in the details—the way her hair gleams in the sunlight, the curve of her cheek, her full lips and button nose.
She’s a mix of strength and softness, and it draws me in and makes me want to learn every detail.
And then, almost without thinking, I say, “You know, I’d like to hear your stories someday. The ones your ink tells.”
She looks at me, surprised, and there’s a flicker of something in her eyes. She doesn’t write anything, just holds my gaze, and in that moment, I feel like I’m seeing a part of her no one else has.
We sit there, the sound of the creek and the quiet forest around us, and for once, I don’t feel the need to fill the silence. She leans her head back, looking up at the dappled light filtering through the trees, a faint smile lingering on her lips.
For the first time, I realize that I could sit here with her all day, not talking, and still want more.