Elara and Ronan were about to enter the college when Elara saw Alax waiting for her. The moment Alax spotted her, he ran forward and hugged her tightly. Elara hugged him back without hesitation.

"Hi," Alax said, glancing briefly at Ronan while still holding Elara.

Ronan simply nodded and stepped aside, entering the college gate. He couldn't bear to watch any longer. Every step hurt him from the inside out, but he knew — you can't force someone to like you.

As he entered the classroom and settled into his seat, mira slid in next to him. Ronan barely noticed. He was staring blankly at the classroom door.

"Hi," Mira greeted cheerfully.

Ronan looked at her, half-focused, and said, "Hello... do I know you?"

"No, actually," Lisa said with a shy smile. "I'm Elara's friend. I've heard a lot about you from her."

He gave a faint, sad smirk, thinking of what Elara might have said. "What did she say?" he asked, looking down at the desk.

"That you're a total jerk," Mirasaid flatly.

Ronan's glare immediately shot toward her. "Oh... sorry, I shouldn't have said that, Mira muttered, feeling guilty and looking away.

But Ronan barely noticed her. His eyes were fixed on the door as Elara entered the classroom, walking with Alax. Alax's hand rested on her shoulder, while Elara subtly lifted her foot to show him her ankle was fine. The sight of them together — close, smiling — was like a dagger to Ronan's heart.

Lisa tried again, hoping to distract him. "I have known from middle school... You always brought Yellow roses from my uncle's shop on weekends..."

But before she could finish, Ronan stood abruptly, grabbed his bag, and walked out of the classroom. He couldn't bear to see Elara smiling at Alax.

Lisa sat there, lips pouted, confused and disappointed, watching him leave.

Since that day, Ronan hardly spoke to Elara — just casual "hello" and "hi." For a few days, he even skipped college. Elara tried texting him, asking why he was missing classes, but he replied minimally, just "okay" or "fine."

Worried, she decided to visit him. It was 9 PM when the doorbell of Ronan's apartment rang. He was weak, barely able to get to the door. As he opened it, Elara immediately noticed his pale face.

"Ronan," she called softly, her voice full of concern.

When he looked at her, his legs gave out, and he collapsed into her arms. His chin rested lightly on her shoulder. Gently, Elara helped him to the bedroom and laid him on the bed. She checked him and realized he was burning with fever. Carefully, she covered him with a blanket and went to bring some ice water and a towel.

"Ronan, did you take your medicine?" she asked in a soft, low voice.

He only nodded weakly, too exhausted to speak.

Elara put her bag aside, rolled up her sleeves, tied her hair back, and sat beside his head. She placed the bowl of ice water on the side table and began changing the ice towel on his forehead. She worked carefully, switching the towel over and over for thirty minutes.

Finally, she put the bowl back in the kitchen and returned to sit beside him. She began brushing his hair gently with her fingers, her concern clear, and a hint of guilt in her eyes as she watched Ronan in pain. His fever had finally gone down, and he lay resting, breathing slowly. Elara leaned back against the headboard, her own head resting there, quietly keeping watch over him, relief washing over her.

She didn't even realize when she had fallen asleep. An hour later, she woke to find herself lying right next to Ronan. He was still conscious, and they were facing each other. One of Elara's hands rested gently on his head, the other on her lap, while Ronan's hand mirrored hers.

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Ronan's eyes opened—it was 7 a.m. He saw Elara lying next to him, but he wasn't surprised. Instead, he silently watched her, a small smile forming as he thought he must be dreaming. As he brushed her hair from her face, his thumb accidentally grazed her lips. Elara's eyes fluttered open, and Ronan froze, realizing this was no dream. He shouted, "Whattt!" and tumbled off the bed.

"What are you doing here... in my bed?" Ronan asked, still on the floor.

"How are you feeling?" Elara replied calmly.

"What?" Ronan asked, bewildered.

"You had a fever last night, so I stayed here... I don't even know when I fell asleep," she said. Rising from the bed, she added, "I'll make you something soothing to eat."

She came closer to him, leaning down with one hand on his head and the other gently on his shoulder. "You don't have a fever now," she said softly. Ronan was completely speechless.

Elara went into the kitchen and ronan follow her, and he sat on the stool across the counter, quietly watching her move around as she cooked.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice soft but curious.

Elara didn't look up; she was busy stirring the boiling oats. "Doing what?" she asked.

"Staying here... making breakfast for me," Ronan said.

She finally glanced at him for a second, then back at the stove. "So what? You did the same for me—can't I?"

Ronan smiled faintly, his eyes falling on the knife beside him on the counter. "I did that because..." he started, but before he could finish, Elara's phone rang.

It was lying on the counter near her hand. The name flashing on the screen made Ronan freeze—Alax.

Elara turned off the stove and reached for the phone. But before she could answer, Ronan stepped closer and gently caught her wrist—the one holding the phone. His other hand rested on her waist.

"I did that," he said, his voice low and trembling with emotion, "because I have feelings for you."

Elara's breath caught. Her eyes widened, meeting his.

"And I hate it..." Ronan continued, glancing at the phone screen before looking back at her, "...when I see you with him."

The phone stopped ringing, but neither of them moved. Elara's fingers loosened around the phone as her heartbeat matched his in the quiet kitchen light.

"Let me go," Elara said, trying to push Ronan away, but his grip was firm — not harsh, just desperate.

"Are you two... together?" Ronan asked, his voice unsteady, eyes full of pain.

Elara hesitated for a heartbeat, her chest rising and falling. "Not yet," she finally whispered, looking straight into his eyes.

Ronan froze. For a moment, he didn't move — just stood there, staring at the floor. Then, slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes were red, his voice breaking. "Can you not like him? Can you not... date him?"

Elara didn't answer. She stood still, caught between guilt and confusion, unable to look at him.

"Ronan..." Elara was about to speak with him, but

"I don't need your pity," Ronan said quietly, his tone hollow.

Before she could continue to speak, he turned away. "You can go home, and i won't tell alax about this" he muttered and walked toward his room, shutting the door behind him.

Elara remained where she was, frozen in the kitchen — the only sound left was the faint hum of silence after everything else had faded.
She stood there, lost in a storm of feelings she couldn't name. She liked Alax... she was sure of that.
But somewhere between Ronan's love, his care, and his quiet presence, 

she was starting to fall for him.
And she didn't even realize it yet.