ＤＥＳＩＲＥＥ

We continued down the hallway, the rhythmic sound of our footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet space, each step carrying me further away from the classroom and into the warmth of Wallace's presence. 

I could feel the weight of his gaze, the subtle shift of air as he glanced down at me, and I couldn't help but feel the tiniest flutter in my chest.

He broke the silence first, his voice casual but somehow pulling at me, like a thread I couldn't ignore.

"So, do you still have one more class left this afternoon?"

I shook my head, letting out a soft breath.

"Hmmm, nope. Mr. Donovan's class was canceled today. He had some urgent business, so he just told the class to do a self-study session."

I raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. "Why do you ask?"

Wallace's grin spread across his face, a playful spark in his eyes.

"Why don't we go to that room now so I can read the rest of your story?"

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his eagerness.

"Right now?"

He nodded, as though the idea was the most natural thing in the world.

"Why not? Unless you have something else planned."

I felt that strange and unfamiliar flutter in my stomach again.

Was he asking to spend more time with me?

I glanced up at him, searching his face for any sign of sarcasm, but all I saw was genuine interest.

"But, don't you still have class?"

"Nah," he shrugged effortlessly, his expression so nonchalant it almost made me question my sense of responsibility. "I wouldn't be able to understand what was discussed anyway, so I'd rather not go."

I stopped walking, turning to face him, my hand instinctively resting on my hip.

"No, you have to go to class,"

Wallace's eyes widened dramatically as if I'd asked him to do the impossible. He let out a deep, exaggerated sigh.

"But I want to read it now."

I crossed my arms. "You can't skip class just to read what I wrote."

"Okay, okay!" he sighed again, but this time, it was tinged with mock resignation. "You're no fun, you know that?"

I raised an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth lifting in a half-smile. "I know. But I'm just trying to make sure you don't fail your next test."

"Do you have to ruin all my fun?" Wallace pouted, though the teasing smile he wore suggested otherwise. Then, as if a new idea struck him, his eyes sparkled mischievously. 

"Well, if I fail the test, I guess you'll have to help me study."

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "That's not how it works."

Wallace shot me a sideways glance, the hint of a challenge in his eyes.

"I'll bet I can convince you."

"Good luck with that," I muttered under my breath, amused, but also strangely distracted by how much I enjoyed this moment.

Wallace opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get another word out, I saw Franko running towards me, a trio of students trailing after him like they were racing to catch up.

Franko was the first to reach us, huffing and puffing, his face flushed from the sprint. But when the trio finally caught up, he quickly stood straight, and in one smooth motion, he placed both hands on my shoulders.

His sudden action caused Wallace's hand to fall from my waist, and I felt a brief, unexpected sense of loss at the change.

"Des, you love me very, very much, right?" Franko asked, his voice oozing with drama as if the world was about to end unless I answered him right away.

I raised an eyebrow, a sigh building up in my chest as I tried to suppress the mixture of amusement and exasperation bubbling inside me. What's his drama now?

Before I could even open my mouth to respond, the trio of students behind Franko stepped closer, and I could practically feel them trying to edge in. Their presence was becoming more noticeable by the second, and the quiet, shared space I'd been enjoying with Wallace started to feel... smaller. I could almost sense the moment slipping away from me.

One of the students, a girl with curly hair and glasses, cleared her throat nervously. "Um, Desiree? We were wondering if you could help us with something..."

I immediately recognized one of them as one of the student council members.

Of course, they had to interrupt now.

A quiet sigh began to rise within me, but I kept my face carefully composed, masking my frustration with a polite smile.

"Of course. What's the issue?"

"No!" Franko interrupted, raising his voice to an almost comical pitch. I turned back to him, his eyes wide with dramatic pleading. "Des, I'm the one who needs your help so—"

"Hey! We're the ones who need her help!" the other girl retorted sharply, taking a step forward, her words cutting through Franko's theatrics.

Franko's grip on my shoulders loosened, and he spun around to face them, his gaze narrowing in mock offense.

"I am her best friend, so she must help me first!"

"But she's our VP!" the boy chimed in, his tone clipped, clearly irritated with the whole scene.

"Hey! I'm also a student of Fictus now!" Franko said, throwing his arms out as if this were some kind of shocking revelation. "Besides, she loves me so much so she'll help me without questions!"

"That's unfair!" the trio protested in unison, their voices rising together in indignation.

I fought the urge to face-palm. This was absurd.

I glanced at Wallace, who stood next to me. His eyes darkened with barely contained irritation. I could practically feel his frustration pressing against me.

"Can't they see I'm in the middle of something?" I heard him mutter under his breath, the words almost inaudible, but not quite.

The students exchanged uncertain glances, picking up on the sudden shift in the air.

I bit back a smile at his frustration, though it was quickly replaced with a sense of guilt. This was ridiculous. Why was I even getting pulled into this?

"Give me a sec," I said to the group, then turned to Wallace.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he muttered, "Can't they wait?"

I could already feel his mood darkening. 

"I'll just meet you at the room later."

He grumbled something unintelligible and, without another word, walked away, his frustration trailing behind him like a heavy storm cloud.

I stood there for a moment, watching him go. What was that about?

It seemed like the only thing left was to deal with the chaos Franko and his entourage had dragged me into.

As they began explaining their concerns, my mind kept wandering back to Wallace.

Why had he seemed so annoyed?

Then the question faded, replaced by a more practical concern when I remembered he had my bag and books.

How was I supposed to study now?

๋࣭ °࣪ ִ⭑․𓃠⭒˚.• ݁

I sat in front of my laptop, my fingers pressed lightly against my temple, massaging the tension there. The weight of the day—the long hours of studying, the ridiculous snack issue with Franko and the trio of students, the endless noise that had drained me—had taken its toll. 

I wasn't sure what had me more exhausted: the academic pressure or the constant hum of expectations hovering over me. 

It felt like the universe had conspired to keep me from any peace today.

The soft, mechanical hum of my laptop was the only sound in the room, the kind of sound that fills the void when everything else falls away. I glanced at the time.

Five minutes had passed since the last class ended, and yet Wallace was nowhere in sight. 

Maybe he's changed his mind. Maybe he's not interested anymore.

The idea stung more than I wanted to admit. I sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet room. The silence was starting to press in on me, amplifying the hum of my thoughts, each one a little sharper than the last. 

I glanced at the door, half-expecting it to swing open, but no, it remained as still and uninviting as it had been all afternoon. Maybe I should just pack up and leave.

But just as I started to close my laptop, there was a soft creak from the door.

I looked up, startled, and there he was—Wallace. He stood in the doorway, holding my books and bag. 

The ache of disappointment that had been growing in me lessened, but something about his eyes something clouded in them made my heart tighten. I didn't have time to fully process the emotion before I smiled, the expression almost automatic.

"Hi," I said, trying to keep my voice light, though it came out a little more tense than I'd intended.

Wallace grumbled under his breath as he walked toward me, his eyes flicking to me with that unreadable look. He placed my books and bag on the chair beside me, the one I had cleared for him. But then, instead of settling in, he turned, making his way back toward the door.

I blinked, confusion rising like a slow tide. 

"Where are you going?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them, the unease creeping into my stomach.

"Where else?" he retorted, his tone sharp. "Home. Classes are done."

The words hit me like a sudden gust of wind, and I felt a strange sting in my chest. My heart dropped in the same way it did when I realized something had slipped through my fingers. I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

"But I thought you wanted to read..." My voice faltered a little at the end, and I hated how vulnerable it sounded.

Wallace paused at the door, hand on the handle, and I watched him turn back to me. There was something apologetic in his glance before he spoke again. 

"Maybe next time," he said, voice softer now, but still distant.

I opened my mouth, the words already forming in my mind, but before I could speak, my hand moved without my consent. 

I didn't think or question, I just reached out and grabbed his pinky. My fingers curled around his in a light, almost tentative grip. The warmth that rushed through me was a jolt of electricity, and I couldn't ignore the way the tension between us seemed to rise.

"Please stay?" I whispered, the words leaving my lips before I could fully understand them. They were quiet, almost pleading, and they felt more fragile than I intended.

Wallace froze mid-step, his entire posture stalling as if my simple request had thrown him. His gaze dropped to where our fingers were entwined before it lifted to meet my eyes, and I could feel his breath catch in the stillness. 

The space between us seemed to shrink, the air growing heavier. Slowly, almost hesitantly he set my books and bag down on the table and took the seat beside me. My heart did a strange little flip in my chest, and I couldn't look away from him.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I wasn't sure if I should if I could. His presence felt like a weight and a comfort all at once.

Wallace turned to me, his gaze locking onto me with a quiet intensity, and gave her a subtle nod.

Finally, I opened my laptop, the cool metal of it grounding me in the task at hand. As I revealed my manuscript, I felt that rush of excitement mixed with a fresh wave of nerves. 

Wallace was the first person to ask to read it, and now he was here, quietly scrolling through the pages.

My eyes kept wandering back to him, as though I couldn't help it. His brow furrowed as he read, and I wondered what he was thinking.

The silence stretched between us, a strange, peaceful stillness that felt at once natural and full of weight. Finally, it was Wallace who broke it.

"Can I make a suggestion?" His voice was low and casual.

"Uh, sure," I said, not sure what to expect. My eyes stayed on his face, watching his expression.

"How about in this part," he said, as he wrote something in my notebook. "you add a certain line from a song? It would match the tone you're going for perfectly."

I furrowed my brow as I processed his suggestion. "That sounds better! From what song is that?"

Wallace cleared his throat, his gaze shifting slightly, his cheeks flushing. He looked away as if embarrassed. 

"It's a lyric I was writing..." His voice trailed off.

My eyes widened, the realization hitting me. 

"Oh wow, are you turning this into a song?" I asked, a little more excited.

Wallace shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. 

"Nah, it's just an idea. Not that great of a lyric to turn into music, so..." he looked self-conscious.

"No, it's a great lyric!" I insisted, my voice more firm than I meant. "I'd love to hear it when it turns into a song."

Wallace's shy smile appeared, his lips curling ever so slightly. He cleared his throat, pulling himself together.

"Anyway, enough with the song. How about in this part of scene 6, we also..."

And just like that, we fell into a rhythm, bouncing ideas off each other. I made the changes he suggested, and with each one, something in me felt lighter and more confident. Time seemed to move unnoticed, the hours slipping by without my realizing it.

That was until I noticed the time on the laptop.

I stood up abruptly, startled by the sudden rush of panic. My breath caught in my throat.

"It's already 7 o'clock!" My pulse raced, and I hurriedly started gathering my things. 

The familiar fear surged within me, making my movements frantic as I scrambled to pack my things.

Wallace looked at me, brows furrowed with concern. 

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay," he said, his voice soft but firm. He reached out, placing a steady hand on my shoulder to stop my frantic movements.

"Des, it's okay."

I turned to face him, my heart still pounding.

"It's not!" I gasped, my voice cracking. "If Mother finds out—wait, why didn't..." My eyes landed on my phone, and the missed calls from my driver were impossible to ignore. My stomach sank.

"Oh no, why was my phone on silent?" I muttered, quickly switching it off.

Wallace watched me, his gaze intent. 

"Wait, Desiree. Does your mom get angry if you're not home by a certain time?"

I sighed, biting my lip, trying to fight back the wave of panic.

"That's not it," I said, my voice small. "I'm never not home this late unless it's for a school event, and she knows that. But if she finds out I've been staying late more than usual... she'll start asking questions. Worse, she might investigate what I've been doing here, at school, after hours."

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I regretted them the moment they left my lips.

Wallace seemed to process that for a moment, then reached up, cupping my face with both hands. His touch was warm and steady, and it calmed something inside me.

"Okay, breathe. You're okay," he said softly, his voice smooth and reassuring.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to take a deep breath, and when I opened them again, he was still there, standing in front of me with that calm expression on his face.

"You don't have to worry," he said quietly, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "You have me, Des."

I swallowed, staring up at him, my heart fluttering. "But—"

He cut me off before I could continue, his grip on my shoulder tightening just a little, his eyes dark with intent.

"If your mom or anyone starts asking why you're still at school, just tell them you were with me. We're spending time together." He flashed me a grin, but it didn't hide the seriousness in his tone.

"And if they press further, just tell them we're getting to know each other. Tell them we're enjoying our time. Heck, you can even tell them we're making out and didn't notice the time."

My cheeks flushed instantly, and I quickly pulled away from him, my voice shaking as I tried to regain my composure.

"A-alright. But I don't think it's necessary to go that far. Who would even believe us when no one's seen us interact much in public? And besides, I don't think my mother would—"

Before I could finish, Wallace grabbed my arm, pulling me toward him in one swift, deliberate motion. His grip was firm yet careful, and suddenly, his chest was pressed against mine, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in my ears. The warmth of his body seeped into mine, and the faint scent of pine and something uniquely him wrapped around me, making my head spin.

My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at him, the intensity in his dark eyes rooting me to the spot. His gaze was unreadable, a storm of emotions flickering in their depths. I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out, only a shaky exhale.

"Then let's make her and everyone believe," Wallace whispered, his voice low and rough.

My eyes widened, my pulse racing as the air between us seemed to thrum with an almost tangible electricity. Each breath I took was shallow, every inch of me hyperaware of how close he was, of the way his fingers lingered on my arm.

"Wa-Wallace, don't joke... around," I managed to whisper, though my voice quivered with the weight of the moment.

His gaze darkened, his expression turning serious, and he leaned in. I could feel the faint brush of his lips ghosting over mine, teasing yet maddening. My stomach flipped, a sharp pull of anticipation rendering me completely still.

"I'm not joking," he murmured, his tone now husky, every syllable dripping with conviction. His breath fanned against my lips, warm and laced with a faint hint of mint, making my head swirl. 

"I'm being serious."

My chest tightened, my breaths quickening as his lips hovered tantalizingly close, their warmth making my own tingle in expectation. I couldn't stop staring at them, the sheer magnetism between us pulling me closer despite my better judgment.

"Do I..." Wallace whispered again, his voice dropping to a near-inaudible rasp that sent goosebumps racing across my skin. "Have permission to kiss you?"

I froze, my gaze locked on his mouth, my mind spinning wildly between fear and want. And then, as though possessed by something greater than myself, I gave the smallest nod.

"Words, my desire," Wallace breathed, the soft, velvety edge in his tone sending a thrill down my spine. "Use your words."

"Y-Yes... Wallace, kiss me..." I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath, my heart hammering against my ribcage as if it might break free.

Before I could say another word, Wallace closed the gap between us, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was soft yet brimming with unspoken promises. At first, my body tensed, unsure of the foreign sensation, but then his lips moved against mine gently, deliberately, coaxing, and the tension melted away, leaving only warmth and an ache for more.

Time seemed to halt, the world fading into nothingness until there was only him, his touch, his scent... his kiss. The faint rustling of leaves above and the distant hum of life faded to silence, eclipsed by the quiet symphony of our shared breath.

The kiss deepened, his lips moving with tender confidence that both soothed and ignited something within me. My hands found their way to his chest, the solid warmth beneath my palms grounding me even as the rest of me felt like I was floating.

And for that perfect, suspended moment, I let myself fall.

☀༉‧

Hello!!🤭

I'm dying to hear your thoughts on this one!

__melodyshhh 𓇢𓆸