Dorian

The evening was quiet, too peaceful for your usual strolls. He walked beside you, his hands in his pockets, glancing at you every now and then, as if he were about to say something and then changed his mind.
"You seem a little tense today," he finally said, grinning. "Are the exams starting to get to you?"
You chuckled.
— And you? I don't understand how you manage to stay so calm.
"The secret is simple," he shrugged. "If you pretend everything is normal, sometimes it really is."
You laughed, looking ahead.

• You are incorrigible.
  “But it’s stable,” he replied, and added a little more quietly: “Is that bad?”
  You turned to say something to him, but he suddenly stopped. Not abruptly, but simply froze, as if he'd made up his mind.
  “Wait,” he said.
  You looked at him in surprise.
• What's happened?
  He was silent for a few seconds, then smiled—not his usual, easy smile, but a different one. A real one.
  — It’s just… I’m tired of pretending.
  You didn't have time to ask anything. He took a step closer and kissed you.