glasses

From a different side

The cafeteria was packed, as usual, with clusters of students scattered across the tables, laughing and talking over their trays of mediocre food. Nicolás moved through the crowd with his usual confidence, his tray balanced effortlessly in one hand. His teammates had already claimed a spot near the back, loudly recounting highlights from yesterday's game.

He was about to join them when something caught his eye.

Román.

He was sitting at a table near the windows, sunlight catching on his glasses, just like in class. But this time, he wasn't alone.

Nicolás slowed, almost stopping in his tracks. Surrounding Román were three or four other students, all of them talking animatedly. Most of them were girls, their laughter ringing out as they leaned in closer to him.

Román, for his part, looked... relaxed. Even a little amused. He was smiling—**smiling**—in a way Nicolás hadn't seen before. It wasn't the small, sarcastic smirk he occasionally flashed when making a dry comment. No, this was something softer, warmer.

Something about it made Nicolás's stomach twist.

He moved to his table, barely registering the greetings from his teammates as he sat down. His gaze kept flicking back to Román, his friends, the easy way they all interacted. One of the girls lightly shoved Román's shoulder, and he laughed.

"Who's he hanging out with?" Nicolás asked suddenly, interrupting the conversation at his table.

One of his teammates, Diego, followed his line of sight. "Oh, Román? Those are his friends. He's always with them. Why?"

Nicolás shrugged, trying to act casual. "No reason. Just didn't know he had a whole squad."

Diego snorted. "Yeah, mostly girls. There was that whole rumor a while back, you know? About him being—"

"Don't," Nicolás said sharply, cutting him off.

The sudden edge in his voice startled Diego, who raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, geez. Chill, man."

Nicolás forced a laugh, hoping it sounded natural. "Sorry. Just... rumors are stupid, you know?"

Diego nodded, and the conversation shifted back to volleyball. But Nicolás wasn't listening. His thoughts were stuck on Román, on the way he seemed so different with his friends.

Nicolás frowned, stabbing his fork into his food. Why did it matter who Román spent his time with? So what if he was smiling and laughing?

It's not like I want to be the one making him smile like that.

The thought hit Nicolás harder than he expected. He froze for a moment, his fork hovering mid-air.

Do I?

"Yo, Nico!" one of his teammates called, clapping him on the back. "You good? You're zoning out."

"Yeah," Nicolás said quickly, shaking off the thought. "Just tired from practice."

He threw one last glance at Román's table, at the way he leaned in to listen to one of the girls talk, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he laughed again.

The twist in Nicolás's stomach tightened.

For the rest of lunch, he didn't hear a word his teammates said.