𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓻𝔂❤︎

Chapter 8

From now on it will get more and more cringe you have been warned and there will be no smut bc thats too far.

The next day, Y/N stood in front of her mirror for way too long, staring at herself, trying to figure out if her hair should be up or down. She wasn’t sure why it mattered so much, but today felt... different. She brushed her hair for what had to be the twentieth time, letting it cascade over her shoulders, its glossy shine reflecting the soft morning light. Was her lip gloss enough? Should she wear the cherry one? Did Mr. Le even notice things like that?

She paused and shook her head, realizing just how absurd her thoughts had gotten. It’s just a class. He’s your teacher. But that tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered, Yeah, but what if he’s been waiting for you to notice him, too?

She sighed, grabbing her bag and heading out the door. The entire walk to school, she replayed every interaction she’d ever had with Mr. Le, trying to read into every glance, every sarcastic comment. The way his eyes lingered on hers yesterday... it had to mean something, didn’t it?

By the time she reached her chemistry class, she felt like a bundle of nerves and ridiculous hopes. Her heart raced as she sat down, smoothing out her outfit more times than necessary. Today she was wearing a pale pink sweater that she thought brought out the glow in her skin. She’d spent extra time perfecting her winged eyeliner, hoping—no, believing—that maybe Mr. Le would notice the little details today.

As she arranged her notebook and pens neatly on the table, her friends were chatting away about some new show they’d watched, but she wasn’t paying attention. All she could think about was the moment Mr. Le would walk through that door. Would he make eye contact with her again? Would he smile? She bit her lip in anticipation.

And then, there he was.

Mr. Le strode into the room, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. His dark clothes clung to his lean frame, his mask hiding his expression, and those glasses... why were they suddenly so attractive? Y/N felt her heart do a little flip. His whole presence screamed mystery and sophistication, and Y/N was convinced that today was the day he’d finally see her as more than just another student.

“Hey guys, I was in a meeting,” he said in that smooth, slightly raspy voice. It was the kind of voice that could read off chemical equations and make them sound like poetry.

Y/N sighed quietly to herself. She could listen to him talk about isotopes and atoms for the rest of her life.

Mr. Le started the lesson, his voice cutting through the usual classroom chaos with a calm authority. Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at him every few minutes, admiring the way he commanded the room without raising his voice, the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he teased Harvey about his rushed notes.

“Harvey, did you even look at the periodic table?” Mr. Le asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Harvey shrugged, grinning. “Nah, I figured I’d just wing it.”

Mr. Le shook his head, his eyes briefly flicking over to Y/N’s table. “That explains a lot.” He gave a half-smile—at least, she thought he did, though it was hard to tell with the mask.

But Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. Did he just look at me? Her face heated up, and she quickly looked down at her notes, pretending to be engrossed in the lab instructions. Maybe he was thinking about yesterday... maybe he’s still amused by my mistake... The thoughts spiraled into something much sweeter. Maybe... he found her charming.

As the class started on their lab work, Y/N’s group was already deep in discussion, but she could barely focus. Her mind was too busy imagining all the ways Mr. Le might be secretly admiring her from across the room. She sat on the edge of her seat, deliberately choosing the outer chair again, just in case he came by.

And then, as if on cue, Mr. Le walked over to their table.

Her heart leapt as he leaned down to check their work. He was so close, she could smell the faint scent of his cologne—something woodsy and sophisticated. She wondered what kind of cologne he wore, if it was something expensive or something understated, just like him. Probably a scent no one else would think of. Unique. Just like him.

He scanned their papers, then paused, his eyes landing on hers once again. “Y/N,” he said slowly, “you might want to... rethink this number.”

Y/N blinked, looking down at the paper. She hadn’t even realized she’d written the wrong number. Again. She swallowed hard, trying to laugh it off. “Oh, right... I, uh, was testing you?”

He raised an eyebrow, and though the mask covered his mouth, she could tell he was smirking. “Testing me, huh? Well, congratulations, you failed.”

The whole group laughed, and Y/N smiled sheepishly, her face growing hot. That smirk—it was killing her. She was certain he was enjoying this far more than he let on. She could practically see the amusement in his eyes, and the way he lingered just a bit longer before moving to the next table made her pulse race.

He totally noticed me today. There’s no way he didn’t.

As the class continued, Y/N found herself daydreaming again. Maybe after school, she could stay behind and ask him for extra help. They’d talk about the lab, sure, but then the conversation would shift. He’d ask her about her plans, about her future, and she’d tell him about her dreams, and somehow, by the end of it, there’d be this unspoken connection between them. The kind that only happened in stories. The kind that meant something more.

The bell rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She packed up her things slowly, hoping for one last glance from Mr. Le, one last moment to seal the fantasy in her head.

As she stood to leave, she felt his eyes on her again, just for a second, as he organized his papers at the front of the class. She gave him a small smile, her heart pounding in her chest.

And for a moment, she was sure she saw him smile back, just the tiniest curve of his lips beneath the mask.

She floated out of the classroom, the blush still warm on her cheeks. Maybe it wasn’t just a daydream after all. Maybe, just maybe, there was something real in those glances, those tiny moments. And maybe tomorrow, she’d find out.

Or, at the very least, she’d get to see that smirk again. And wasn’t that enough for now?