Leo was in his second semester when he first noticed Mr. Miguel. It was a rainy morning, and the classroom smelled faintly of wet earth and chalk dust. Leo wasn’t paying much attention when the door opened, but the moment Miguel stepped in, the hum of chatter quieted.

Miguel moved with grace — a calm elegance that seemed effortless. His voice was soft yet clear, carrying a melodic tone Leo couldn’t quite place. He sounds… different, Leo thought, tilting his head. Like he stepped out of some drama series… or maybe… like a gay soap star? He stifled a chuckle.

“Good morning, everyone,” Miguel said with a gentle smile, his eyes scanning the room. “I’m Miguel, your Environmental Science teacher.” His voice carried warmth, like a quiet promise, and for a moment, Leo forgot to breathe.

The lecture began. Leo tried to focus, but Miguel’s presence was magnetic. It wasn’t just the sound of his voice — it was how he spoke, his soft hand gestures, and the quiet confidence he carried. Leo found himself stealing glances, noting the way Miguel tucked his hair behind his ear, the faint scent of sandalwood lingering when he moved.

After class, most students rushed out. Leo lingered, pretending to organize his notebook. Miguel noticed.

“Leo?” His voice was softer now, carrying a hint of curiosity.

Leo blinked, startled. “Sir?”

Miguel stepped closer, his calm presence almost tangible. “You stayed behind. Do you have questions about today’s topic?”

Leo hesitated, unsure how to respond. “Nah… I just… listen better when I’m alone.” His voice was quiet, almost shy.

Miguel studied him for a moment, tilting his head slightly. “Alright… but if you ever need help, my door is always open.” His lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.

Leo nodded, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. As Miguel turned and left, his footsteps quiet but lingering, Leo realized something — this was more than a first class. It was the start of a subtle pull he didn’t yet understand.

Walking out, Leo glanced back at the door Miguel had closed. The sound of rain pattering outside seemed softer now, as if the world itself had shifted.

By the time Leo reached home, the rain had turned into a light drizzle. He slung his bag aside, calling his friend who had missed the class that day.

“Hey,” Leo said, settling on his bed, phone pressed to his ear. “You won’t believe the new EVS teacher.”

“What about him?” his friend replied lazily.

“He… looks kinda feminine. And… honestly? Sounds gay.” Leo chuckled softly, hiding a smirk. “You should’ve been there. He’s… different.”

His friend laughed. “Sounds like you noticed him a lot, huh?”

Leo paused, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Maybe…” he murmured, ending the call.

And as he lay there staring at the ceiling, Leo couldn’t shake the thought of Miguel — gentle, charming, and undeniably different.

Little did he know, this was the start of something neither of them expected.

For a few days after their first meeting, Leo kept to himself. He attended Miguel’s classes quietly, focusing on the lessons, pretending not to notice much else. But every so often, his gaze wandered toward Miguel, drawn without reason. It wasn’t just curiosity — it was something deeper, a quiet pull he couldn’t explain.

One afternoon, as most students hurried out after class, Leo lingered behind. Miguel noticed, adjusting his notes calmly before looking up.

“Leo?” Miguel’s voice was soft, curious.

Leo hesitated. “Sir… can I ask you something?”

Miguel smiled faintly, leaning against his desk. “Of course. What is it?”

“I… I heard you’ve written a novel,” Leo began, voice quiet. “Can I… read it?”

Miguel’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and he tilted his head. “You want to?”

Leo nodded. “I just… want to understand your words.”

There was a brief pause before Miguel said, “Sure. But can you promise me you’ll read it quietly, without distractions?”

“I promise,” Leo replied softly. His heart beat a little faster than usual under Miguel’s gaze.

“Alright,” Miguel said, pulling a folded paper from his desk. “Give me your WhatsApp. I’ll send it to you tonight.”

Leo obeyed without hesitation, sliding his phone toward Miguel. There was something in Miguel’s quiet smile that made Leo’s chest tighten.

That night, as the rain tapped gently against his window, Leo’s phone buzzed. Miguel had sent him the novel.

The cover was simple, the title handwritten. Leo opened it with curiosity, scrolling through the first few lines. The words were deep, layered with meaning he couldn’t fully grasp, but there was something mesmerizing about them.

Leo read on — slowly, quietly, turning the pages as if entering another world. The story felt personal, almost like Miguel was speaking directly to him. Though he didn’t understand every nuance, the emotions spoke to him clearly.

After finishing the last page, Leo hesitated before replying to Miguel’s message. “Sir… I read it. It’s… deep. I didn’t understand everything, but I liked it.”

Miguel replied simply: “Good. That was the point. Words aren’t always meant to be understood immediately.”

They exchanged a few more words that night — short texts that carried a weight Leo didn’t expect. Miguel’s replies were thoughtful, kind, and just enough to leave Leo smiling late into the night.

A few days later, without Leo realizing, he found himself arriving early to Miguel’s class, sitting quietly in the back, listening not just to the lecture but to Miguel himself. His words, his tone, the way he explained things… suddenly mattered.

He began to notice small things — the way Miguel adjusted his shirt, the faint scent he left in the classroom, the softness in his smile. Leo caught himself staring, curiosity growing into something he couldn’t name.

For the first time, Leo didn’t mind staying behind after class. He wanted to linger, even if only for a moment more in Miguel’s presence.

Because maybe… he wanted more.

That night, lying in bed, Leo found himself smiling at the thought of Miguel. He quietly typed a message, but deleted it before sending. His thumb hovered over the screen, and a blush crept over his cheeks. Maybe tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow he’d find the courage to write.

Leo's POV

The week had been unbearable. Every lecture, every single minute in Miguel’s class, felt like an endless tug-of-war inside Leo’s chest. He hated how his heart reacted when Miguel smiled, how it raced whenever those calm eyes found his, how his thoughts wandered to him even when he wasn’t around.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Miguel was his teacher, not some crush to daydream about.

Leo sat at the back of the classroom, pretending to take notes while his gaze lingered on Miguel. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing faint veins along his forearms, and his voice was that steady kind that always made people listen. There was something so effortlessly gentle about him—yet so distant, like the sun that warmed you but would burn if you got too close.

“Leo?” Miguel’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Y–Yes, sir?”

Miguel smiled faintly. “Pay attention. You’ll need this for the test.”

Leo nodded quickly, cheeks burning. Great. Now he probably thinks you’re an idiot.

The rest of the day passed like a blur. Even after classes ended, Leo couldn’t focus. He tried distracting himself—music, assignments, even chatting with friends—but nothing worked. Miguel’s smile kept flashing in his head like a loop he couldn’t stop.

By the time midnight rolled around, he was still awake, staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the fan. His chest felt heavy with something he didn’t know how to name anymore.

He grabbed his phone.

His thumb hovered over Miguel’s name for a long time. Don’t do this, Leo. It’s stupid. He’s your teacher.

But before his mind could stop him, his heart already moved.

He typed,

> “Sir… can I tell you something weird?”

A few minutes passed before the screen lit up.

> “You can tell me anything, Leo. What’s wrong?”

Leo hesitated. His hands were trembling. He could still back out, say it’s nothing, laugh it off. But the words inside him had been caged too long. He needed to let them out.

> “I think… I have a crush on you.”

The message was sent.

And the moment it was, Leo felt his stomach drop.

He wanted to take it back, delete it, pretend it never happened.

Minutes crawled by. His phone stayed silent. Then finally—

> “It’s common, dear. Students often admire their teachers. But I’m already taken.”

Leo’s heart twisted. He read it again and again, each word heavier than the last. Already taken.

Of course he was. Someone like Miguel—kind, smart, beautiful—couldn’t be single.

He forced a smile at his screen as if Miguel could see it.

> “Haha… yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, sir. I won’t say weird stuff again.”

He turned off his phone and stared at the ceiling again, eyes stinging. He hated himself for expecting anything. He hated that it hurt this much for something that wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place.

When morning came, Leo pretended nothing had changed. He wore his uniform, went to class, and laughed with his friends. But every time Miguel looked at him, Leo’s chest tightened. He didn’t avoid him—but he didn’t meet his gaze either.

Miguel taught as if nothing happened. His tone, his posture, his smile—everything was the same. Too perfect. Too normal.

And maybe that was what hurt the most.

Migual's POV

He’d seen it coming. The small changes in Leo’s behavior, the stolen glances, the nervous smiles. It wasn’t the first time a student had developed a crush—but Leo was different. He wasn’t impulsive or flirtatious. He was genuine. Honest in a way that made Miguel want to protect him.

When he saw the message, he froze. For a second, he didn’t know how to respond. His chest ached in a way he couldn’t explain. He had to remind himself: You’re his teacher. You have someone. Don’t give him hope.

So he chose his words carefully—gentle, distant, responsible.

But when Leo’s final message came, cheerful and forced, Miguel’s heart sank a little.

The next morning, Miguel walked into class, acting as if everything was the same. But when his eyes met Leo’s for just a second, something in his chest twisted. Leo’s usual brightness felt dimmer. His laughter sounded a little too forced.

He wanted to say something—to tell him it was okay, that he didn’t mean to hurt him—but teachers didn’t get to say things like that.

So he just smiled and continued teaching, while silently hoping that Leo would be fine.