Meilin's POV
It was a stupid confession.
A random girl from his class—pretty, tall, loud enough for the whole courtyard to hear—walked up to Theo right in front of everyone and handed him a note. One of those ridiculous folded hearts. Pink. Glittery. Childish.
She said "I've liked you since first year."
And he just… stood there. Hands in his pockets. That unreadable expression on his face.
He didn't say anything. Just raised an eyebrow, then glanced at me.
I hated that glance.
Because he didn't push the girl away.
He didn't say he was taken.
He didn't pull me to his side and kiss the hell out of me like in the movies.
No. He stayed quiet.
And that silence hurt worse than any rejection ever could.
---
I didn't say a word all the way back to the dorm. Ava kept side-eyeing me like I was a bottle ready to burst. And I did.
The second we got inside, I sat on the bed, tucked my knees into my chest, and finally let it out.
"I know I'm being stupid," I mumbled. "I know he didn't say yes. I know he didn't even smile. But he didn't deny it. He didn't even look annoyed."
Ava sat beside me, brushing my hair gently behind my ear. "You're not stupid," she said, calm like always. "You're in love. And when you're in love, logic kind of takes a vacation."
I sniffled, wiping my face with Theo's hoodie sleeve. (Yes, I was wearing his hoodie. Of course.)
"I know he loves me," I whispered. "He tells me all the time. He lets me cling to him like I'm oxygen. He kisses me in front of people. But still…"
"But still," Ava nodded, finishing the sentence for me.
"I'm not the kind of girl people confess to," I said, voice smaller than I wanted. "I'm clingy and loud and I mess up my eyeliner and sometimes I stutter when I get too excited. She was—she was elegant."
Ava rolled her eyes and smacked my arm lightly. "She's not you."
"And that's the problem," I muttered.
"No," she corrected. "That's the reason he didn't even look interested. You don't need to be anyone else, Meilin. That boy literally tattooed your initials on his wrist. He doesn't want elegant. He wants you."
I smiled through tears. "I hate how perfect you are at comforting people."
"I know. It's a burden," Ava said dramatically. "Now go call your boyfriend and cry into his shirt like the adorable disaster you are."
I nodded.
But just as I picked up my phone—
A message from Theo popped up.
> "Outside your window. Hoodie on. Face pouty. Let me in."
I looked at Ava, and she grinned. "Go get your clingy boyfriend, babe."
---
I didn't mean to end up here.
In his room. In his hoodie. On his bed.
Crying like a five-year-old who just lost their favorite stuffed animal.
But here I was. Curled up against the wall, knees pulled to my chest, face hidden in my hands, sobbing like the world had ended.
Because to me… it kind of had.
Someone had confessed to Theo. My Theo. In front of people. With flowers and everything. And he hadn't said no. Not right away. Not loud enough.
I couldn't unsee it. Couldn't unhear the girls whispering, "They'd look good together," or "Why's he wasting time on that clingy scholarship girl when he could have her?"
It played on loop in my head like a cursed song.
"Meilin?" His voice broke through the quiet.
I didn't respond. I sniffled harder.
The door creaked as he stepped inside, and the moment it clicked shut, I heard him drop his bag. "Hey," he said softly, walking over. "You weren't answering your phone."
I still didn't say anything. I hated how pathetic I sounded when I cried. Like I didn't have top grades. Like I wasn't top of my class. Like I wasn't the most stubborn person on the planet when I wanted to be.
He crouched down next to the bed. "Are you okay?" His voice dropped. Gentle. Careful.
I turned my head slightly so he could see my tear-soaked face, and then—I broke again.
Loud sobs this time. Ugly, red-nosed, swollen-eyes sobbing.
Theo's entire expression softened in a second.
"Oh, sweetheart…"
He climbed onto the bed and pulled me into his lap like I weighed nothing. I clung to him instinctively, fingers fisting his t-shirt, burying my face in his neck. He smelled like his practice cologne and the slightest hint of paint—probably from some club project with Austin.
"You didn't push her away," I hiccupped miserably.
"I did," he said, running a hand through my hair. "You just didn't see it. I didn't want to humiliate her. But I told her I was taken."
I shook my head, not convinced. "You're mine, Theo."
He smiled against my cheek. "I know, baby. I know I am."
"And she's prettier than me," I muttered.
"No, she's not," he said immediately.
"She is," I insisted.
"She's not. And even if she was, I'm still yours."
My fingers twisted into his hoodie. "Then why didn't you tell everyone?"
"I was waiting for you to tell everyone," he murmured. "Because the second I do, it becomes real. And you're going to be stuck with me forever."
I peeked up at him, cheeks wet and eyes puffy.
He brushed his thumb across my face, then cupped my cheeks, his voice dipping lower. "You crying in my bed like this is not helping me be a gentleman, just so you know."
"Don't joke."
"I'm not," he said. "You break my heart when you cry. You know that?"
"I hate crying," I whispered.
He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose. "I love every version of you. Even the snotty crying one who shows up unannounced and takes over my bed like it's hers."
"It is mine," I muttered into his hoodie.
"Damn right it is."
I pulled back a little, sniffling again. "You still love me?"
He smiled, slow and soft. "Always."
"You're not going to leave me for some tall, leggy blonde?"
"Nope," he said, leaning in until our noses touched. "Because you're the girl who yells at me when I skip breakfast, who drags me out of bed on exam days, who texts me when it rains to tell me not to wear white. You're the one I think about every second of the day."
I blinked slowly.
"You're it, Meilin."
My lip trembled again.
"Say it," I whispered. "Please."
He tilted my chin up gently and looked straight into my soul.
"I love you."
I stared at him, completely breathless.
"I love you so much," he added, brushing his lips against mine. "And I'm not going anywhere."
And then, with my face still blotchy and my cheeks soaked, Theo Ashford kissed me like it was the only thing he'd ever wanted to do. And I knew, in that moment, no matter how many girls threw themselves at him, no matter what the whispers said—
I was the one he came home to.