"My Unexpected Love"

Hidden Feelings

The sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over Silverwood High’s art room, where Liam sat alone, completely absorbed in his sketch. Most students had already headed home, leaving the school in a rare, tranquil stillness that he loved. He was adding the finishing touches to a detailed drawing of the school courtyard when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Didn’t think I’d find anyone still here,” a familiar voice echoed from the doorway.

Liam looked up to see Max standing there, a gym bag slung over his shoulder, his hair still damp from practice. He was wearing his soccer jersey, his skin flushed from the day’s workout, and there was a playful spark in his blue eyes as he leaned casually against the doorframe.

“Oh, hey,” Liam replied, trying to keep his tone steady. “What are you doing here?”

“Figured I’d check up on you,” Max said, stepping inside and letting the door swing shut behind him. “Emily said you tend to forget the time when you’re drawing. Thought maybe you could use some company.”

Liam chuckled, a little self-conscious. “Guess I do get carried away sometimes.”

Max walked over, settling into the seat beside him, uncomfortably close yet strangely comforting. His gaze shifted to Liam’s sketchbook, studying the unfinished drawing of the courtyard. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Sure.” Liam handed over his sketchbook, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves as their fingers brushed. Max’s hands were warm, rough from hours on the field, but his touch was careful as he held the sketchbook, tracing his thumb lightly along the edges of the paper.

“This is incredible,” Max murmured, his expression softened with admiration. “It’s like… you see things in a way no one else does.”

Liam felt his cheeks warm. “I just like drawing things that feel… real.”

Max nodded, his gaze never leaving the drawing. “I get it. Kinda like how I feel about soccer—like it’s the one place where I’m completely myself.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound the occasional rustle of pages as Max flipped through Liam’s sketches. But with each passing second, Liam became more aware of Max’s proximity, the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the smell of pencil and paper. Max’s eyes moved from the drawing to Liam’s face, his gaze intense, studying him with the same focus he’d had on the artwork.

“So,” Max said quietly, a playful edge in his voice, “do you ever draw people… in person? Like, not just from memory?”

Liam swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken. “Sometimes. But I don’t think I’m that good at it yet.”

Max raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a small smirk. “Mind if I model, then? Could be good practice.”

“Right now?” Liam’s voice came out more breathless than he intended, and Max chuckled.

“Why not? It’s just you and me here.”

Before Liam could answer, Max leaned back, adjusting his posture as if striking a casual pose. He crossed his arms and shot Liam a playful look, his blue eyes holding a challenge.

Liam’s heart raced as he picked up his pencil, his fingers slightly trembling. He started with Max’s broad shoulders, the sharp angle of his jawline, trying to focus on capturing Max’s likeness without letting his gaze linger too long on those striking blue eyes.

“You’re pretty serious when you draw,” Max observed, his voice low. “It’s… interesting to watch.”

Liam glanced up, meeting Max’s gaze for a moment. “Guess it’s my way of shutting everything else out. Makes it easier to focus.”

Their eyes locked, and for a beat, the air felt charged, the space between them seeming to shrink.

“Liam,” Max murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “you don’t have to be nervous around me, you know.”

Liam’s breath hitched, caught off guard. “I’m… not nervous,” he stammered, though his voice betrayed him.

Max leaned in, resting a hand on the edge of the desk, his fingers just inches from Liam’s. “Yeah? Because it kinda feels like I make you nervous.”

Liam felt his cheeks flush as he glanced away, but Max wasn’t letting him off that easily. He shifted closer, close enough that their knees brushed, his presence warm and steady.

“Max…” Liam managed, his voice trailing off, unsure what to say or do. He was hyper-aware of every point of contact—their knees, the way Max’s hand was close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

Max’s gaze softened, his teasing smirk giving way to something more sincere, almost vulnerable. “Hey, don’t worry. I just… I like talking to you. Hanging out like this. It’s different.”

Liam looked back up, feeling a surge of courage. “Me too. You’re… different from how I thought.”

Max laughed softly. “Oh, yeah? How’d you think I’d be?”

Liam’s gaze flicked downward, embarrassed. “I don’t know. I guess… like the popular, untouchable soccer star.”

Max’s expression softened, his hand finally closing the distance, resting on top of Liam’s for just a second. “Well, maybe I’m not all that untouchable.”

Their eyes met again, and this time neither of them looked away. Max’s hand lingered on Liam’s, the warmth of his touch sending a thrill up Liam’s arm. The silence felt heavy, filled with words unspoken, and for a second, it felt like something might happen—like they might close the last bit of distance between them.

But just then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, and they pulled apart, both of them jolting back into reality. Liam’s heart was racing, and he could see the same surprise mirrored in Max’s face.

“Guess that’s our cue to go,” Max said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. He grabbed his bag, hesitating before he turned to Liam. “But hey… maybe we can finish this sometime?”

Liam nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

As Max walked out, Liam watched him go, feeling a confusing mix of excitement and nerves. He wasn’t sure where this connection with Max would lead, but he knew one thing—whatever had sparked between them today was only the beginning.

End of Chapter Two