Y/n sat near the window, one leg crossed over the other, twirling a pen between her fingers. A few desks over, someone called her name and she laughed—loud, bright, the kind of laugh that made people turn their heads.

In the seat beside her, Rune Kaiser was a statue.

He sat stiff, hands tucked under his thighs, shoulders hunched forward. His dark eyes were fixed on the grain of his wooden desk, but every few seconds they flicked sideways—toward her. Toward the way her hair fell over her shoulder. Toward the way she smiled at someone else.

<Narrator> He waited. <He shouldn’t have.>