eleven
Aaliyah's POV
We keep walking.
Slowly.
Like neither of us really wants the path to end.
The campus is quieter than I've ever seen it-Saturday morning softness, trees swaying, sunlight peeking through the leaves like it's trying to eavesdrop.
Leo walks beside me, hands still in his pockets, shoulders loose but tense in that Leo way.
I glance at him.
He glances at me at the exact same time.
We both look away.
Awkward.
Cute.
Too cute.
I grin. "You're being weird."
He huffs. "You're the one staring."
"You stared first."
"Not true."
"Extremely true."
He shakes his head like I'm impossible-but I swear I see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.
My heart does gymnastics.
We walk a little further until we reach a quiet grassy area behind one of the science buildings. A little hill. A shady tree. A perfect spot.
"Can we sit?" I ask.
He nods immediately.
And it hits me-
With everyone else, he hesitates.
With me, he doesn't.
We sit on the grass, not too close, not too far.
A tangled kind of in-between.
I draw my knees up. "So... tell me about you."
He stiffens just a little.
"About what?"
"Anything," I say. "Your family. Your life. Your goals. Why you're so broody. Whatever."
He gives me a look. "I'm not broody."
I laugh. "You are the dictionary definition of broody."
He sighs dramatically. "I don't talk about myself a lot."
"I noticed," I say softly. "But... I wanna know you, Leo."
His jaw flexes.
Not from anger.
From something else.
He stares at the grass for a second before finally speaking.
"My family's loud," he says. "And big. And always around."
Oh.
I didn't expect that.
"Loud?" I ask.
He nods once. "Mexican family. Big. Chaotic. But in a good way."
I smile. "That's cute."
His ears turn pink.
Yes-pink.
Leo Ramirez.
The man made of silence and jawlines.
Is BLUSHING.
I bite my lip to hold in my squeal.
He clears his throat. "I'm the oldest. So I always had to... take care of things."
"That's why you're so protective," I whisper.
He glances at me.
Doesn't deny it.
"I'm studying engineering," he continues. "Mechanical. It's... something I'm good at. Something stable. Something I can use to help my family later."
"That's sweet," I say.
He shrugs. "It's just... practical."
I tilt my head. "Is it what you want, though?"
That makes him pause.
He looks down at his hands.
"I don't know," he admits quietly.
My heart squeezes.
Then, bravely, I open up too.
"I'm studying psychology," I say.
He nods. "I know."
"You know?"
"You mentioned it in class," he says. "And you had a psych textbook sticking out of your bag."
He noticed that??
My stomach flips.
"But..." I continue carefully, "what I really want to do is art."
Leo looks at me.
Really looks.
"What kind?" he asks.
"Painting. Illustration. I want to make stories come alive. Bring emotions to color. Work with galleries or maybe design covers..."
I swallow.
"It sounds stupid. I know."
"It doesn't," he says immediately.
I blink.
"My whole family are medical people," I say. "Doctors. Nurses. Lab techs. Everyone tells me that's the path. That art isn't safe. Or smart. Or stable."
Leo's brows pull together-soft anger, protective anger.
"Does it make you happy?"
"Art? Yeah. More than anything."
"Then it's not stupid," he says, voice low and certain.
Something warm spreads through my chest.
"Thank you," I whisper.
He nods once, gaze lingering on me as if he's memorizing the moment.
Silence settles again-comfortable, warm, cozy.
Then I ask, "What about you? What do you actually want?"
He exhales slowly.
"...I want quiet."
I tilt my head. "Quiet?"
"Yeah."
He stares straight ahead, voice softer than I've ever heard it.
"No expectations. No noise. No pressure to be the responsible one all the time. Just... peace."
I say it before I can stop myself.
"You seem peaceful around me."
He freezes.
Still.
Silent.
Barely breathing.
Then he looks at me-slow, deliberate-like I just said something impossible.
"Aaliyah."
His voice is low.
Wrecked.
Dangerously soft.
He looks away quickly, running a hand through his hair.
His ears turn pink again.
And then-I swear on everything-he actually mutters under his breath:
"Jesus Christ..."
I grin. "Did I break you?"
"No," he says too fast.
"So yes."
"No."
I scoot an inch closer. "Yes."
He stares at me like I'm a fire he can't decide to touch or run from.
"You can't just say stuff like that," he mutters.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm-"
He stops.
Jaw tight.
Heart pounding (yes, I can literally SEE it under his shirt).
"Because it... does things."
My breath catches.
I whisper, "To you?"
He swallows.
Hard.
Then nods once, tiny, like he hates admitting it.
Oh.
OH.
Leo Ramirez is FLUSTERED.
By me.
I bite my lip.
His eyes instantly drop to my mouth.
"Stop," he murmurs.
"Stop what?"
"That," he says quietly, gaze glued to my lips. "Don't-just don't."
I breathe out shakily.
"I didn't do anything."
He looks at me with this pained, amused, wanting expression I've never seen on anyone before.
"You have no idea what you do," he says.
My chest combusts.
Everything buzzes.
Everything glows.
Everything feels too much and not enough at the same time.
I shift closer again-barely.
But he notices.
His breath stutters.
"Aaliyah..." he warns, voice frayed.
I smile. "Relax. I'm not going to jump you."
He shuts his eyes like he's asking God for strength.
"You shouldn't joke like that," he mutters.
I tilt my head. "Why not?"
When he opens his eyes again-
Oh.
OH.
They're darker.
Lower.
Hungrier.
"Because I'll take it seriously."
My heart stops.
My breath stops.
Everything stops.
Then he stands suddenly, like he needs distance to survive.
"We should walk back," he says, voice rough. "Before I say something I shouldn't."
And me?
I stand too.
Heart racing.
Smiling like an idiot.
Feeling something dangerous and soft and new curling inside my chest.
We walk side by side.
Arms brushing.
Hands almost touching.
Silence warm.
And I know-
We just crossed a line.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
But real.
And neither of us is walking back.