At times, I wondered if ignoring him was truly what I wanted, or if I was just too scared to face the vulnerability that came with caring for someone. I’d lie awake at night, turning over every interaction, every accidental touch, every moment when I caught a glimpse of him, and I’d wonder, was I really protecting myself, or was I just deepening the distance until it felt unbearable.
The study hall was quiet, the soft hum of conversation in the background. I was pouring over my notes, determined to bury my thoughts in work, when I felt it again a slight, accidental brush of his hand as we both reached for a book on the same shelf. This time, it wasn’t as abrupt. It lingered for a heartbeat longer, and I could feel a jolt that made my heart pound, echoing like thunder in the silence of the
