The sun was setting over the school courtyard, casting golden light across the festival grounds. The air was warm but gentle, carrying the faint scent of flowers from the decorated stage. Most students had already left, leaving a few lingering clusters of laughter behind.
Anaya sat on the edge of the fountain, sketchbook on her lap, trying to focus on her drawings. But her hands kept shaking, not from nerves about her art, but from the fact that Kian was approaching.
He stopped a few feet away, hands in his pockets, a small, uncertain smile on his face. "Hey," he said softly.
"Hi," Anaya replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart raced so fast she thought it might escape her chest.
Kian took a deep breath, stepping closer. "I… I've been meaning to tell you something. And I don't want to rush it, but… I can't hold it in anymore."
Anaya's stomach fluttered. She looked down at her sketchbook, then back at him, nodding slightly. "Me too… I've been trying to figure out how to say it."
He smiled softly, a blush creeping across his cheeks. "You don't have to be nervous. I like you, Anaya. Not just your art—you. All of you."
Anaya's heart skipped a beat. She felt warmth spreading through her chest, her face heating up. "I… I like you too, Kian. I've been too scared to say it, but…" She swallowed, looking at him with shy honesty. "I like you."
For a moment, they just stared at each other, words no longer necessary. The world around them—the fading festival, the scattered students, the golden sunset—felt like it had disappeared.
Kian reached out, his hand brushing against hers. "May I…?" he asked softly, though his eyes already said everything.
Anaya nodded, barely able to speak. "Yes."
Slowly, deliberately, Kian leaned in. Their lips met in a gentle, sweet kiss—the first kiss that was both timid and full of the weight of everything they had been feeling for weeks. Time seemed to stretch, the world holding its breath around them.
When they finally pulled back, both were smiling shyly, cheeks flushed and hearts racing.
"I'm glad I finally told you," Kian whispered.
"Me too," Anaya replied softly. "It feels… right."
They sat together on the fountain's edge, fingers intertwined, watching the last streaks of sunlight fade. The festival lights flickered on, casting a soft glow over the courtyard. For Anaya and Kian, this moment marked the start of something new—a friendship that had blossomed into love, a connection built on shared passions, quiet admiration, and courage.
Rhea, hiding behind a nearby tree and trying not to giggle too loudly, whispered to herself, "Finally! About time they admitted it."