the night after the corridor moment felt heavy, as if the air itself had been waiting for something. sara couldn't stop replaying the way leo had looked at her, that almost-whispered name that had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily, her chest still tight from the memory.
her phone rested on her chest, face down. she knew he hadn't messaged yet — but part of her kept hoping.
finally, it vibrated. one message. from him.
leo: "you awake?"
sara's heart jumped. she quickly typed, deleted, typed again, and finally settled on:
sara: "yeah."
three dots appeared. disappeared. appeared again. he was hesitating. thinking.
leo: "can we talk?"
the words made her chest clench. they never "talked" like this — the teasing, the arguing, the avoidance had always been their way of communicating. "Talk" felt dangerous.
sara: "now?"
leo: "yeah. outside."
she slipped into a hoodie and crept downstairs. when she opened the front door, leo was already there, leaning against the gate, hands in his pockets, hood pulled over his head. the streetlight flickered above him, casting a glow that made him look both impossibly close and untouchable.
"you're fast," he said when he saw her.
"you said you wanted to talk," she replied, trying to sound calm, ordinary, boring — anything but the storm in her chest.
he nodded and looked away for a moment, jaw tight. "yeah."
silence stretched, heavy and expectant.
"so… talk?" she asked finally, crossing her arms.
leo exhaled, rubbed the back of his neck, then looked at her properly. eyes locked, steady.
"about earlier," he said.
"what about it?" she asked.
"you were… close."
her face warmed. "you were the one who moved closer."
"i wasn't going to," he muttered. "i didn't plan to."
"then why did you?"
he hesitated, jaw working. finally, he admitted softly, "because when you looked at me like that, i forgot what i was doing."
sara's heart thumped violently. "like what?"
instead of answering, leo took a careful step closer. not too close, not like the corridor moment, just close enough for the heat between them to spike.
"like you mattered," he said quietly.
sara's chest tightened. she couldn't speak.
"i don't want to mess this up," he added.
"mess what up?" she whispered.
"us," he said simply.
the streetlight buzzed overhead, making the moment feel suspended in time.
"we're just friends," she said softly, testing him.
leo didn't flinch. "if we were just friends, i wouldn't feel like this."
"feel like what?" she asked, though the answer already fluttered in her chest.
"like i'm one heartbeat away from something i can't take back."
her breath hitched.
"then why are you telling me?" she murmured.
"because today scared me," he admitted. "the way i almost said something. the way i almost—" he cut himself off. "i don't lose control."
"i didn't do anything," sara said softly.
"you didn't need to. you just looked at me," he whispered.
her fingers gripped the edge of her hoodie. "and what if i felt something too?"
leo froze, then blinked rapidly, like he hadn't expected that. "don't say that if you don't mean it," he cautioned.
"i wouldn't say it if i didn't."
his throat bobbed, and his fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for her but wasn't sure he could trust himself.
"you're going to ruin me," he muttered, voice low but trembling.
"you're already ruining me," she whispered back.
he exhaled sharply and stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "this is bad."
"oh."
"not like that," he said quickly. "i mean… bad because i don't know how to stop thinking about it."
her heart raced. "you don't have to stop," she said, almost without thinking.
leo stared at her, eyes wide, caught between disbelief and longing. "don't say things like that."
"why not?" she asked.
"because i'll take them seriously," he said, and for a moment, the world felt like it was holding its breath.
"maybe i want you to," she admitted.
his breath hitched. "don't."
"why?"
"because i'm this close," he said, holding two fingers barely apart, "to doing something stupid."
she stepped closer, deliberate. "what kind of stupid?"
"the kind that changes everything," he admitted.
the words, the closeness, the tension — everything hummed like electricity.
"if you do something," she said quietly, "i won't run."
leo's eyes softened. "i know. that's the problem."
another silence. heavy, charged, endless.
"so… what now?" she asked finally.
he shook his head slowly. "i don't know. but i know i don't want distance."
"me neither," she said.
he studied her for a long moment, then whispered: "then stay close."
not physically — but close in the way that mattered. emotionally, inevitably.
"i'm here," she said.
he nodded once, like locking the moment into memory. "good."
after a few quiet seconds, he said, "i should go."
sara nodded, reluctant. "text me when you reach home."
"i will," he promised.
before leaving, he lightly brushed his fingers against hers. fleeting, electric, enough to make her pulse skyrocket.
"goodnight," he said softly.
"goodnight," she whispered back.
as he walked away, sara leaned her forehead against the cold gate, heart hammering. for the first time, she wasn't confused. she knew exactly what this was. and she knew exactly where it was going — straight into something they couldn't undo.