My first crush (COMPLETED)√

Chapter 98: The boy i loved first

Sharon's POV

14 Years Ago

The park smelled like freshly cut grass and cotton candy.

Children's laughter floated through the warm afternoon air, blending with the distant squeak of swings and the rhythm of sneakers against gravel. The sun was soft that day, golden, gentle. The kind that made everything feel safe.

"Mummy, I want to play," I whined, tugging lightly at her hand. "I want to play with my friends!"

My mother looked down at me, cautious as always. She had that protective look in her eyes especially when it came to the new friends I'd made at school.

Especially Patricia.

And then I saw her.

Pat.

Standing near the fountain in a pale pink dress, her dark hair tied neatly with a ribbon. But she wasn't alone.

Beside her stood a boy I had never seen before.

He looked... different.

Too calm. Too composed. Too handsome for someone our age.

He leaned casually against the rail, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a small phone like he had somewhere more important to be. His hair fell slightly over his forehead, and when the sunlight hit his face, it felt like something out of a fairy tale.

My heart skipped.

Was that even possible at seven?

Mom always said crushes were for teenagers.

So this wasn't a crush.

It couldn't be.

Right?

"Sharon, what are you doing here?" Patricia asked, already looping her fingers through his arm possessively.

"I... I came with my parents," I replied, though that clearly wasn't what she meant.

"And you?" I asked softly.

"To have fun, obviously," she grinned.

I nodded awkwardly, suddenly aware of how plain I must have looked beside her. My sneakers were dusty. My braids slightly loose.

"Oh, sorry," Patricia said suddenly, her smile tightening. "Sharon, meet Winter Walker... but you can call him Steph. He's my..."

Winter lifted his head slowly, his eyes cutting toward her.

There was something in that look.

A warning.

"...my friend," she finished quickly.

I stepped forward, trying to gather courage.

"Hi. I'm Sharon."

I extended my hand, palm slightly sweaty.

He stared at me.

Not meanly.

Just... studying.

My arm hovered there for what felt like hours.

"Oh," Patricia laughed lightly. "He can be like that. Especially to people he doesn't like."

Her arm wrapped around his neck as if to prove something.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I slowly began to pull my hand back—