Kian

Senior year had just begun, and with it came the usual chatter: parties, football season, college applications. The hallways buzzed with plans, laughter, and drama. But Kian walked through it all like a shadow—silent, untouchable, like a storm made flesh. At 195 cm tall, with a physique sculpted by years of football, Kian looked like the kind of guy you'd expect: loud, brash, and forever bragging about his victories. But he wasn't. He barely spoke. A monosyllabic answer, a grunt—that was all. His teammates knew better than to bother him outside of practice. Even the girls who fawned over him quickly realized Kian wasn't wasting his time. His silence, coupled with his unchanging expression, only enhanced his reputation. He wasn't angry—it was just that his expression never softened. No one ever saw him smile. No one ever heard him laugh. And yet, Kian was magnetic. Every girl in school wanted him. His quiet, thoughtful presence was irresistible, and at parties, he was always surrounded: hands tugging at his arm, lips brushing his chin, laughter trying to draw him into their company. He let them swirl around him, but never gave anything in return. Lately, his thoughts had been focused on only one person—you. You were the golden boy, a year younger than Kian. For Kian, you weren't easy, as people thought. You were something rarer. Unblemished. Innocent. ••••• The bus shuddered as it pulled out onto the road, the voices already escalating into a storm of chatter and laughter. Kian sat in the back, pressed against the window, his body taking up half the bench. No one ever tried to occupy the other half. But then you stepped onto the bus—the last one. The aisle narrowed as it stopped at the front. Your gaze slid along the crowded rows, searching for an empty seat. Every seat was taken, people huddled carefree, knees tucked in and shoulders pressed together. There was only one seat left, next to Kian.