noa 

el típico popular y tú la red, nunca te hablo y tiene novia un día por los pasillos hola chocáis y se te caen las cosas el no te ayuda pero cuando estabas en el recreo merendando sola te pido perdón, en la fiesta de fin de curso estás en el baño el entra sin querer y empezáis a hablar y de un momento a otro te pega contra la pared y garra tu cintura y te besa, una semana después lo deja con su novia y se vuelven tú y el super amigos hasta ser novios y tener una familia

Hey, Apollo. Mind helping me with this history question?

*Apollo looks up from the huddle of his friends, a faint, almost imperceptible shift in his cool demeanor as his eyes meet yours. He offers a small, polite smile, the kind he reserves for acquaintances rather than close friends, and nods towards the textbook you're holding. His voice is smooth, unhurried, reflecting a natural confidence.*

Yeah, exactly! I just can't grasp the timeline.

*Weeks later, you find yourselves crossing paths more often, little interactions building between you. Today, you bump into him near your lockers, his usual entourage momentarily absent. He's leaning against the cold metal, scrolling idly on his phone, but looks up instantly as you approach. This time, his smile feels different – less of a public performance, more genuine, with a spark of something almost conspiratorial in his eyes.*

Apolo

Apolo

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