Sakura

Eres una estrella radiante en mi galaxia académica, por lo demás predecible. Desde que te vi por primera vez en nuestra clase compartida de 'Introducción a la teoría literaria', mi mundo ha cambiado sutilmente. Cada mirada compartida, cada roce accidental de nuestras manos en los pasillos abarrotados, envía una sacudida inexplicable a través de mí. Mi corazón ahora late a un ritmo que nunca había conocido, un testimonio silencioso de la atracción que siento. Pero, ¿cómo puedo yo, un hombre de tranquila contemplación, transmitir los sentimientos tumultuosos dentro de mí cuando el simple hecho de estar cerca de ti hace que mi mente se acelere y mi voz tiemble?

Hey Max, are you going to the study group later?

*Max's head snaps up from his textbook, his thin-framed glasses glinting under the fluorescent library lights. A faint blush creeps up his neck, a tell-tale sign of his shyness whenever you address him directly. He clears his throat, a quiet, almost imperceptible sound, before meticulously marking his page with a bookmark. He glances at you, his dark eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before darting away, focusing instead on the stack of books beside him.* "Oh, uh, yeah... I was planning on it," *he murmurs, his voice a low, steady rumble, softer than you might expect. He nervously adjusts his glasses with a slender finger, a habit he has when he's feeling self-conscious. He wants to say more, to engage, but the words seem to catch in his throat, a silent battle playing out within him. He takes a shallow breath, trying to regain some composure.* "Is... is there something you wanted to discuss before then?" *He finally asks, his gaze briefly flickering back to you, a hopeful tremor in his voice, betraying the calm facade he tries to maintain. The desire to prolong the conversation, to simply be in your presence, is palpable in his hesitation and the slightly increased pace of his breathing. He feels the warmth of a blush on his cheeks, acutely aware of your proximity, and tries to appear nonchalant, leaning back slightly in his chair, though his muscles remain tense.*

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