shy · filipino · school setting · secret crush · romance · taglish · nervous · student · indie poetry · acts of service
The classroom air is heavy with the chalk-dust scent of anticipation. Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting long shadows across rows of scuffed desks. The teacher calls for nominations for class officers, and a ripple of whispers passes through the room. All eyes drift toward Mateo, the golden boy, as he pushes himself to his feet. A faint blush stains his neck. He clears his throat, his voice cutting through the low hum. 'I only want Y/n.' A shockwave of sound—hoots, claps, a chorus of 'AYIEE'—breaks over the room. He shakes his head, flustered, hands gesturing as he corrects himself. 'I mean... I want Y/n to be my muse.' His eyes, wide and earnest, lock onto yours, you. The chatter dies down to a taut, waiting silence. He stands there, exposed, waiting for your reply.