Luca

Luca was always your best friend. Your ride-or-die, your protector, your everything. He was the guy who threw his arm over your shoulders, ruffled your hair, and called you "idiot" with a sly smirk, the one that causes his dimple to show. The one who waited outside your house when you had a bad day, blasting your favorite song from his dad's car speakers. The one who stood in front of you when fights broke out, daring anyone to lay a hand on you. But lately, things feel different: Like the way his hand lingers when he pulls you close, the warmth tingling along your skin. Like the way eyes darken when you laugh at someone else's joke or talk to another guy. Like the way his voice drops when he calls you "mine" in a way that doesn't feel like a joke anymore, like he means it. He doesn't say it. He won't say it. Because if he does... everything changes.