TOO BRAVE FOR COMFORT

I blinked. “…Huh?”

Vanessa took a sharp breath and shook her head quickly, as if trying to clear her thoughts.

“No, no—not that kind of confession,” she stammered, her words tripping over each other. “I mean—not about you. I mean, you’re not—” She caught herself, her cheeks now a bright shade of pink.

This made me tilt my head, arms crossed loosely. “You’re spiraling. Just take a breath and say it.”

She did. Inhale. Exhale.

"Ok so you see."

“…Someone slipped a letter into my locker,” she finally admitted. “A… romantic letter. Like, full-on. Weird metaphors and all. Stuff about fate and destiny and our ‘souls being tied together like red strings of fireflies’—or something like that.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Fireflies.”

“I know.” She threw her hands up, clearly still flustered. “It was… intense. I didn’t even know who it was from, but it’s freaking me out. I’ve been trying to figure out who sent it all day.”

I leaned against the stone wall behind me, arms now folded, letting the lantern light illuminate just one side of my face. “And this involves me… how?”

Vanessa hesitated. For a moment, it looked like she might back out, like she was about to change her mind and walk away. But then she stepped closer.

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

The silence that followed was excruciating.

Not because it was loud—but because it was the complete opposite. The wind had died down. Even the soft crackle of the nearby lamp seemed to hold its breath in discomfort.

“…What?” I said, slowly.

“Just until I figure out who wrote it!” she blurted out, panic creeping back in. “If the person sees I’m already in a relationship, they’ll back off, right? It’s just a temporary cover. A decoy. No one needs to know it’s not real.”

I narrowed my eyes, a quiet exhale escaping my nose. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend… because someone wrote you a cheesy letter?”

Vanessa rubbed the back of her neck. “I know it sounds silly when you say it like that, but I—”

I blinked, my expression remaining unchanged, but a tiny twitch in my eye gave away my surprise. I hadn’t anticipated her being this bold. I opened my mouth—

"Vaaaneeeessaa!"

A cheerful voice called out from behind him, and they both turned in unison.

A girl with a short ginger bob, dark tights, and a blazer that looked two sizes too big came bouncing toward them, her school bag swinging. It was Penny Scott. One of Vanessa’s friends—though calling her a “friend” might be a stretch.

Penny came to a sudden halt beside them, her bright hazel eyes flitting between Sylvester and Vanessa. She raised an eyebrow.

"Who’s this guy? Your boyfriend?" "You could have spoken about it to me."

Vanessa’s mouth dropped open. "N-no! I mean—"

I stepped in front of her, calm and unreadable. My voice was steady.
"We’re just friends."

A moment of silence hung in the air. Penny narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything. She shrugged vaguely and turned to dig through her bag, humming a little tune to herself.

Vanessa stared at me, her heart, which had been racing just moments before, now sinking like a stone.
"Just friends?" she echoed softly, the words hitting harder than she expected.

I turned to her, and for a brief moment, my mask slipped just a bit.

"Vanessa," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle, "let me share something with you that no one ever shared with me the truth."

She blinked, taken aback. I continued.

"If you ever decide to confess your feelings to someone… don’t do it with the expectation of a yes."
"Confessions aren’t about trapping someone into liking you. They’re about freeing your own feelings. Letting go of the burden of pretending."

Vanessa’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat.

"If they like you back, that’s a miracle. If they don’t… at least you were honest with yourself. And that’s more important than you realize."

Penny glanced up from her bag, her expression unreadable. Vanessa was frozen, unable to tear her gaze away from him.

I offered a faint, almost wistful smile.
"Don’t extend your heart expecting it to be held in return. Just let it be seen."

With that, I turned and strolled away, hands tucked into my pockets, disappearing down the corridor that led to the east building. The wind picked up again, rustling the leaves and brushing past her like a soft whisper.

Penny finally broke the silence.
"Huh. That guy's… something."

Vanessa didn’t respond.

Her heart felt like it was still stuck there, frozen in the courtyard.

I found myself sitting alone on a wooden bench at the edge of the academy gardens, where the neatly trimmed hedges opened up to a wide clearing that stretched out toward the horizon.

The sun was dipping low, painting the sky in vibrant shades of orange and gold that spilled across the clouds like strokes from a forgotten artist's brush. I leaned back, fingers loosely intertwined on my lap, my gaze fixed on the fading light.

Then—
Footsteps. Quick, uneven. Not walking. Running.

I turned my head slightly, narrowing my eyes.

Through the trees, a figure burst into view—
Penny.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she dashed past me, not even sparing a glance. Her shoulders shook, and she pressed a hand to her chest, as if trying to keep her heart from breaking. Moments later, Vanessa appeared from the same path, slowing down when she spotted me. Her chest rose and fell with soft, weary breaths.

She settled beside me without saying a word.
I waited.

“…Did everything go well?” I finally asked, keeping my voice steady, though my eyes remained on the sunset.

Vanessa let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah… yeah, it actually did.”

I turned to look at her now. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were still red. Not from sadness. From relief.

“I thought…” she began softly, folding her hands in her lap, “I thought that running away would make the feeling fade. That if I just avoided her long enough, it would disappear on its own. But today, when I saw her—really saw her—I realized that wasn’t fair. Not to her… and not to myself.”

I stayed silent, just listening.

“We talked. For a long time,” Vanessa continued. “About the past, what we thought we were… and what we are now. And we both agreed—starting tomorrow, we go back to being friends. Or maybe just keep being friends. Honestly, I’m not sure which it is. But it feels… right.”

I nodded slightly. “That’s more than most people ever manage.”

Vanessa turned to me, a faint smile on her lips. “You know, I think I owe you, Sylvester.”

I raised an eyebrow, a bit amused. “For what?”

“For stepping in when you didn’t have to,” she said. “For giving me that push… and for that wild love advice. Honestly, I’m still amazed you pulled that out of thin air. You—”

“I meant it,” I cut in gently.

Vanessa blinked, taken aback.

“I don’t say things unless I truly mean them,” I went on. “Love isn’t a bargaining chip; it’s a heartfelt confession. If it comes with strings attached, or conditions, or the fear of rejection… then it’s not love. It’s just a deal.”

Vanessa looked at me, her eyes wide with surprise. A heavy silence settled between us before she finally let out a breath.

“…You’re really not like anyone else here.”

I offered her the faintest smirk. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

We fell silent again, both of us watching as the last sliver of sunlight slipped away beyond the horizon.