By Monday, the quiet magic between them was no longer invisible.
People noticed.
It started with the way Jayden waited for Amira by her locker. How he leaned against it, relaxed and smiling like he had nowhere else to be.
Then it was the way Amira laughed a little more now—soft, real, and rare—like her heart had stopped whispering and started singing instead.
Whispers followed them down the halls.
"Are they…?"
"Since when did she start talking to him?"
"She's not even his type."
Amira tried to ignore it. But words, even when thrown softly, still hit hard.
At lunch, she sat across from Jayden in the corner they'd claimed for their own. She twirled her spoon in her rice without eating.
He noticed.
"They're just bored," he said gently. "People love to talk when they're not the ones being looked at."
"But what if they ruin this?" she whispered, eyes on her tray. "What if we're only good when no one else sees us?"
Jayden reached across the table and took her hand.
"Then let them see," he said. "Let them see you're the girl who made me believe in love before I even knew your name."
Her heart skipped.
"Let them see I chose you."
"And what if I'm scared?" she asked, voice barely there.
"Then be scared," he said, squeezing her hand. "But don't walk away. Not now. Not after everything we wrote between us."
Amira looked up, met his eyes.
"I don't want to," she said honestly. "I just want you."
Jayden smiled. He leaned forward and, with a touch light as breath, pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
"Then you have me."
---
The rest of the day, people still looked. Still whispered.
But Amira didn't shrink.
She held his hand in the hallway, smiled when he walked beside her, and when someone raised an eyebrow, she met it with quiet, unshaken grace.
Because now… this wasn't just a story they wrote in secret.
It was real.