PabStell // crush

03.

The cafeteria buzzed with lunchtime chatter, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude of the now-empty classroom.  Josh had stopped by earlier, suggesting we grab lunch together, but I'd declined, claiming I wasn't hungry. The truth was, I lacked the energy to move; my body ached from a weekend adventure no one knew about.

My secret passion, besides basketball, was motorcycle road trips on my trusty steed, Dusty.  Weekends, or days off from classes, often found me carving paths through the countryside, a way to escape and clear my head. This past weekend was no different.  I was heading home, lost in thought, when a cat darted out into the street. Swerving to avoid it, I lost control of Dusty. 

Dusty as I’d nicknamed my bike, and I tumbled.  Thankfully, my protective gear prevented serious injury, but I ended up with a few bruises on my arms and legs.  A kind stranger helped me up and got me to a nearby clinic. 

I took the cat with me, leaving a contact number in case someone was looking for it.  After the nurses patched me up, I thanked everyone profusely before heading home.

Now it was Monday, and despite my still-sore body, I was in class.  I rested my head on my desk, trying to steal a few moments of sleep.

The weekend's events had left me exhausted.  If you're wondering about the cat, he's safe and sound in my condo.  I named him Ponky, because he looks like a small orange. 

Rather than leave him to fend for himself, I adopted him, at least until his owner comes looking.  He’s a much better companion than the lingering aches in my body.

I shifted in my makeshift seat, a stack of old textbooks, trying to ease the throbbing ache in my arm.  As I opened my eyes, I gasped.  He was there.  Stell.  I’d fully expected to be alone, lost in the quiet solitude of the forgotten space.

He sat across from me, a similar look of surprise on his face.  For a long moment, we simply stared, a silent acknowledgment of our shared unexpected company.  The air crackled with unspoken questions.  Finally, he spoke, a hesitant smile playing on his lips.  "Hi," he said, waving a hand.

I nodded, a shy response.  I thought that would be the end of it, a fleeting, chance encounter. But then, he stood, his movements surprisingly graceful, and walked towards me.  "Uhm… do you mind...?" he asked, gesturing to the space beside him.

Again, I nodded, my heart thudding a nervous rhythm against my ribs. I watched as he reached into his jacket pocket, retrieving something small and carefully handing it to me.  An ointment.  My brow furrowed in confusion.  He must have seen the question in my eyes.

He fidgeted with his fingers, a nervous habit. "Hindi naman sa nangingialam ako," he began, his voice soft, "I'm just… concerned. I saw you fixing your jacket earlier… the cut on your arm… it looked pretty bad. I just… came to give you this."  He paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "And you haven't had lunch, right? Here," he offered a neatly wrapped sandwich.

He started to leave, but I instinctively reached out, catching his wrist.  "Stell," I said, my voice a little breathless. 

He turned, his eyes widening slightly.  "Thank you, Stell," I said, offering a genuine, wide smile.  I saw a faint blush creep onto his cheeks.

"You're welcome, Pablo," he replied, his own smile shy but warm.

Stell practically fled, leaving me alone with the ointment and the sandwich.

"Adorable," I whispered, a chuckle escaping my lips as I unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite.