Kenma had looked extra cute today. The way his hair fell over his eyes when he focused, the way he bit his lip during a tight set. You had to tell someone.

You typed fast, the words tumbling out in a stream of excited energy.

I have so much to tell you about today. He was so cute like always!

You hit send without a second thought, already reaching for your water bottle on the nightstand. The reply came seconds later.

A pause stretched long enough to feel wrong.

Kenma.

Not your best friend. Not the person who was supposed to get that message.

Kenma Kozume. The exact person you'd been gushing about.

The cursor blinked on your screen, waiting for a response. And on the other end of the line, somewhere in his dimly lit room, Kenma was waiting too—his phone held in both hands, his golden eyes fixed on the bright rectangle, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He had not put the phone down since he'd read your message.