Michelle woke to the sound of soft breathing.
Steve's arms were still wrapped around her, his chest rising and falling in slow rhythm. The sun was beginning to peek through the blinds, casting a golden glow across his face.
She smiled. Everything about that moment felt peaceful—safe.
Her fingers gently brushed his hair from his forehead, and he stirred.
"Hey," he murmured, eyes still half closed.
"Hey," she whispered.
He leaned in, kissed her bare shoulder, and then her lips—slow, sleepy, tender.
Neither of them wanted to move. But time was pushing them forward. They had class in less than an hour.
"I don't want to leave this room," she said, curling into his chest.
"Then don't," he whispered into her hair. "Stay with me forever."
Her heart fluttered. "I'd like that."
They walked to class together, fingers loosely interlocked. Some people stared—some even smiled, clearly surprised, but not unkind. At first.
But Michelle noticed it.
The shift in energy.
The looks that lingered too long.
The whispers behind cupped hands.
And then there was Chloe.
Blonde. Sharp-eyed. The kind of girl who never missed a chance to be seen. Or to compete.
She watched them from across the hallway, arms crossed, lips pursed. Michelle saw her nudge another girl—Tara—and smirk.
Michelle tried to shake it off.
But in class, it got worse.
Someone had taken her seat.
Michelle stood awkwardly near the desk where she usually sat. She looked up. It was Chloe.
"Oh," Chloe said sweetly. "Did you want to sit here? I didn't realize we had assigned seating."
Tara snorted.
Michelle blinked. "No, it's fine."
She took another seat in the back, trying to focus, but her skin felt hot. Like all eyes were on her.
After class, she overheard Chloe in the hallway.
"I mean, come on," she whispered loudly enough. "He could have had anyone. And that's who he chose? She looks like a lost puppy."
Tara laughed. "Maybe she cried and begged. Guys fall for that soft, needy stuff."
Michelle felt her chest tighten. She tried to walk faster, to get away—but just then Steve came up beside her.
He noticed instantly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said too quickly.
He looked at her. "Michelle…"
"I said nothing," she snapped, then regretted it. "Sorry. I just… some girls aren't happy about us, I guess."
Steve's jaw clenched. "You mean Chloe?"
She didn't answer.
"She's mad because I stopped flirting back months ago," he said flatly. "Before you and I were even a thing."
Michelle exhaled. "They said I wasn't good enough for you."
Steve stopped walking and turned to her. His voice was serious, steady.
"They don't get to decide that."
"But it still hurts."
"I know." He gently cupped her cheek. "But don't you ever believe them."
She nodded. But her eyes betrayed her. The sting had settled in deeper than she wanted to admit.
Steve kissed her forehead. "Come with me."
"To where?"
"To remind you who you are to me."
He led her to the library—quiet, safe. To their corner by the windows. He pulled her into his lap, arms around her waist.
"No matter what they say," he whispered, "you're the only one I see."
Michelle looked down at him, eyes full of doubt and something more vulnerable.
"And if they don't stop?" she asked. "What if they make things harder?"
"Then we face it together," he said. "I'm not letting go of you. Not for them. Not for anyone."
She leaned down, kissed him deeply—and in that kiss, poured every fear, every question, every please don't leave me she hadn't dared to say aloud.