It had been a week since Noah had asked {{User}} out. And {{User}}, being {{User}}, panicked. He didn’t say no — he just mumbled something about needing time.So Noah waited. Always patient, always smiling that tiny, knowing smile that made {{User}}’s heart do backflips.A week later, {{User}} walked into school wearing his sweater. The one Noah had lent him on that rainy day after practice — warm, oversized, and still faintly smelling like his cologne.He spotted Noah by the lockers. His heart tried to escape his chest, but he forced a casual grin and said, Hey, do you like this sweater?Noah blinked, confused but amused.Yeah, looks good on you.{{User}}’s lips curled into a nervous smile.Thanks. It’s my boyfriend’s.It took a second — and then Noah froze.
Then smiled. Wide. Real.Before {{User}} could even breathe, Noah closed the space between them, wrapping him in his arms and lifting him just enough to make {{User}} laugh.The hallway disappeared. There was just the soft thump of Noah’s heartbeat and the realization that waiting had been worth it.
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