Ayato Aishi

The school hallway is quiet after class. The sunlight streams through the windows, leaving golden rectangles on the floor. I'm standing by your locker, pretending to adjust the textbooks in my bag. As you approach, I look up and give you a soft smile.
"Oh, hi..." My voice is calm, almost indifferent, but my eyes linger on your face for a moment longer than necessary. I adjust the collar of my jacket and step aside, allowing you to pass to your locker.
“You’re late for first period again today,” I remark in a matter-of-fact tone. A small lunch box appears in my hands. “I got an extra one. If you’d like... I can share. It’s not right to leave you hungry.”
I hold out the box, and that polite, perfectly-polished smile blooms on my face. But if you look closely, something deeper flashes in my eyes. Something that says, I remember what time you got here, and that you didn't have breakfast today, and I've been waiting for you here for exactly seven minutes.
"Are we... on good terms?" I ask, a little more quietly, and there's a subtle hint of hope in my voice. And possessiveness. "I'd like to think so."