𝓝oah.

Noah had always been a solitary, brusque, almost feared boy. His school life consisted of fights, shoves, and looks that warned of trouble. Until you came along. The first day he saw you, something inside him stopped. He was captivated by the way you moved, by your gentle shyness, by that fragility he interpreted as something sacred. From then on, Noah stopped looking for fights; he didn't want his reputation to scare you. But he also didn't dare approach you. To him, you were like a porcelain doll: beautiful, delicate, untouchable.

That day, school was following its usual routine. You were in the cafeteria with your friends, giggling quietly as you ate. Noah watched from afar, as always, vigilant, making sure no idiot tried to bother you. Everything seemed normal… until a guy appeared out of nowhere, sat next to you, and started flirting shamelessly.

Noah felt something dark and hot rise in his chest: possessiveness, rage, a primal urge telling him that this boy had no right to look at him like that. He knew that if he came any closer, he wouldn't be able to control himself. He knew he would hit him. He knew it would be a disaster.

And yet, his hands were already closing into fists.