The tension began subtly. A glance that lingered too long, a word that was a bit too harsh, a silence that felt heavy.

Apollo sat upright in his usual spot at the front of the room, his hands neatly placed on the desk, focusing ahead. Everything about him spoke of order, discipline, and restraint.

But still.

Out of the corner of his eye, Levi Caelous Cielo slouched in his chair, embodying a relaxed and unbothered attitude. He rarely spoke in class, yet when he did, his words carried significance. His voice was steady, his statements carefully chosen, and his eyes—far too perceptive.

Even more troubling, Levi often said things that made Apollo rethink his actions.

"What you’re proposing isn’t wrong," Levi had remarked once during a meeting, his tone smooth but distant. "However, it might not be the only way to guide others. You may be mixing up authority with kindness. "

It wasn't just his words—it was how they resonated with Apollo. It felt as if those words had touched a deep, hidden part inside him.

From that moment on, Apollo began to observe everything.

The way Levi maintained eye contact for an extended period without blinking. The way he spoke with clarity, his words slicing into the core of Apollo’s thoughts, never loud or mocking—just. . . sincere. And oddly enough, that hurt more.

Apollo couldn’t articulate it.

He found himself hurrying whenever he saw Levi in the hallways. Sitting up straighter in meetings when he was aware that Levi was watching. Sharpening his points like tools in case Levi decided to speak again.

And he always did.

At the school gate, Sids and Epoy often noticed Apollo tightening his jaw after brief conversations with the enigmatic new student. And Levi? He seemed unaffected by it all, always calm, always composed, always difficult to read.

Until one afternoon, they met at the library entrance. Levi stepped aside, nodding slightly as a silent gesture for Apollo to go ahead. It was courteous. Respectful.

But Apollo halted.

"What’s your issue with me? " he asked abruptly, his voice low and his eyes intense.

Levi blinked, "I don’t have an issue. "

"You keep pressing me with questions. "

“I only speak up when something feels wrong,” Levi replied coolly. “I didn’t think being truthful was a problem for someone like you. ”

Apollo’s throat felt tight. “Someone like me? ”

“Someone who’s used to being followed without question,” Levi said, moving a little closer, his voice still frustratingly calm. “That’s not true leadership, Apollo. That’s just fear dressed up. ”

And there it was again. That sharp pain. That reality. It hit harder than any insult.

Apollo’s fists tightened at his sides. “You know nothing about me. ”

Levi tilted his head slightly. “Don’t I? ”

Their eyes met. An electric charge hung between them—tense, intense, and oddly familiar. Apollo stepped back, his heart racing more than he wanted.

Levi simply observed him, then turned away.

That night, Apollo stood in front of his mirror longer than usual. His hands shook a little as he gazed at his reflection. Liadlaw. The shining, the brilliant. The traitor.

And for the first time, his mind softly suggested something he was reluctant to acknowledge.

Levi had a point.

He despised it. Despised Levi. But underneath all of it, hidden beneath layers of ego and shame, something else began to rise.

Not dislike.

Not exactly.

Something much more threatening.