fifteen
Leo's POV
I knew walking her to class was a mistake.
I knew sitting next to her again was a mistake.
I knew buying her coffee was a mistake.
Because the way she looks at me...
The way she smiles at me...
The way she leans in when she talks-
It's doing things to me I'm not proud of.
Things I can't control.
And when she talks softly?
When she asks me questions like she wants real answers?
When she looks at me like I'm not this cold, quiet, angry person the world thinks I am?
I can't think straight.
So yeah, walking her to the café was a mistake.
A really fucking good mistake.
She's sitting across from me, hands around her cup, hair falling over her shoulder, lip gloss catching the light-
And I'm trying to act normal.
I'm not normal.
Not around her.
She says thank you, and my whole chest tightens.
She asks if I feel better, and I want to tell her that just being around her makes something in me settle.
I don't.
But she's watching me like she can see every thought I'm trying to bury.
Then she says something about wanting to know me-
actually know me-
and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
No one wants to know me.
Not really.
People want the version that's useful.
The version that's strong.
The version that keeps his mouth shut and handles shit.
Not the version sitting in front of her.
I'm trying to find words when-
"Well damn... Aaliyah Hart?"
Everything in me flips.
I look up.
And there he is.
Fucking Malik.
The last person I ever wanted to see standing next to her.
My jaw goes tight instantly.
But I don't talk.
Not yet.
Because I'm waiting-
waiting to see how she reacts.
She stiffens.
Her smile is polite.
Not real.
That's enough for me.
He gets too close.
Too familiar.
Starts leaning his elbow on our table like he belongs there.
Starts talking like he has any right to be near her.
Starts complimenting her.
Starts trying to engage her.
And I feel something dark snap inside my chest.
I stand up.
Calm.
Controlled.
But barely.
"Don't touch her."
Malik blinks like he didn't hear me correctly.
"What's your issue, man?"
My issue?
My issue is you called her easy.
My issue is you bragged about wanting to use her.
My issue is you disrespected her.
My issue is Caleb punched you and it still wasn't enough.
My issue is that you looked at her like she was something you could pick up and put down whenever you felt like it.
But I don't say any of that.
I just step closer.
And the look on his face tells me he gets it.
"You had your chance," I tell him. "And you messed it up."
He starts to talk again-
some bullshit excuse-
and I lean in slightly.
He backs up.
Good.
I don't want to hit him.
But I fucking would.
For her?
Yeah. I would.
He leaves the café.
No attitude, no last word, no bullshit.
Just gone.
And I finally look at her.
She's staring at me like she doesn't know what to say.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
I'm not.
I'm not okay at all.
The thought of Malik talking to her again made my vision go white-hot.
She nods slowly. "Yeah."
She still looks shaken.
I sit back down.
Closer.
Closer than I was before.
I'm still pissed.
But now that he's gone?
Now that she's looking at me again?
All that anger turns into something else.
Something worse.
Something better.
"You're really protective," she says quietly.
I swallow.
Don't say it.
Don't say it.
Don't-
"I can't help it with you."
She blinks.
Her mouth parts.
Fuck.
I shouldn't have said that.
I stand up so fast my chair scrapes the floor.
"I need to go," I mutter.
"A-are you okay?"
No.
I'm falling apart.
I shrug on my jacket and walk out.
And the second the door closes behind me, I exhale the breath I've been suffocating on.
My hands shake.
My jaw is tight.
My blood is hot.
I need to calm down.
I walk straight to the gym.
?
I wrap tape around my knuckles.
Tight.
Tighter.
I slam my fist into the punching bag.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Not angry.
Not really.
Just overwhelmed.
I hit harder.
Not because of Malik.
He's irrelevant.
No.
It's her.
It's the way she looked at me.
The way she thanked me.
The way she trusted me enough to walk with me.
The way she opened up about her dreams.
The way she leaned in during class.
The way she blushed when our knees brushed.
The way she looked at me like she wanted to kiss me.
I hit the bag harder.
My heart is beating too fast.
I'm sweating but I can't stop.
I can't get her out of my head.
I don't want to.
What the hell is happening to me?
Why am I this protective over someone I've known for five minutes?
Why do I care this much?
Why did her smile knock the air out of my lungs?
Why did I almost kiss her outside her building?
Why do I want to kiss her right now?
I slam my fist into the bag-
BAM.
A guy next to me jumps.
"You good, man?"
I breathe hard.
"Yeah," I lie. "Fine."
But I'm not fine.
I'm fucked.
Completely fucked.
I lean my forehead against the bag, closing my eyes.
Her voice echoes in my head.
"You seem peaceful around me."
I breathe out sharply.
Peaceful.
No one has ever said that to me.
No one has ever looked at me with softness before.
No one has ever made the world feel quiet.
Except her.
And now?
I don't want to go back to the noise.
I stand there for a long time, fists aching, heart racing, chest tight.
Then I pull out my phone.
Her name is right there.
Aaliyah.
I hover my thumb over the message.
I shouldn't text her.
I shouldn't.
She deserves someone better.
Someone stable.
Someone warm.
Someone soft.
Not me.
Not the guy who fights his teammates.
Not the guy with the reputation.
Not the guy who never opens up.
But when I think of her smile?
When I think of her looking up at me with those eyes?
My thumb moves before my brain does.
Leo:
You get home safe?
I stare at it.
I shouldn't hit send.
I shouldn't.
But I do.
And I wait.
And wait.
And when her message finally comes?
My chest actually loosens.
My pulse slows.
My breathing evens out.
One girl shouldn't have this much power over me.
But she does.
And honestly?
I don't think I want it back.