(Michelle Lui's POV)
I floated.
I—
No, truly—
floated across the courtyard like someone had secretly replaced my bones with helium balloons.
The world was normal:
students rushing to class, professors sipping overpriced coffee, birds doing suspicious bird things in the trees…
But inside me?
Chaos.
Tiny sparkling chaos.
Ridiculous heart-shaped chaos.
My pulse still fluttered from the way he had said it.
I like spending time with you.
Why.
Why did he have to say it like that.
So gently.
So sincerely.
So quietly confident.
Like it wasn't a risk.
Like it wasn't a confession.
Like it was simply truth.
And the worst/best part?
I believed him.
He wasn't performing.
He wasn't confused.
He wasn't comparing me to ghosts.
He really—really—just liked being around me.
And that…
That was a kind of intimacy I wasn't prepared for.
I pressed my hands to my cheeks as I walked.
They were warm.
Stupidly warm.
"Oh my god," I whispered to myself, "get it together—"
