The field was loud—voices overlapping, whistles blowing, students gathering in groups—but for Ana, everything felt slightly distant as she stood at the starting line, her hand held tightly in Ed’s.
The warmth of his grip felt… distracting.
Too noticeable.
She tried to ignore it, focusing straight ahead.
Ed, on the other hand, wasn’t even looking at the track—his eyes kept drifting toward her, watching the way the wind moved her hair, the way her fingers unconsciously tightened around him when she got nervous.
“You’re holding too tight,” Ana muttered without looking at him.
“…Am I?” Ed replied softly, but he didn’t let go.
If anything, his grip became steadier—not forceful, just firm enough to say I’m here.
That alone made her more aware of him.
Around them, other pairs were preparing, stretching, laughing—but there was something different about their silence.
It wasn’t awkward.
It was… heavy.
The kind that made every small movement feel louder.
Ana adjusted her stance slightly, trying to pull her hand away for a second—but Ed didn’t let go.
Instead, he shifted closer.
“If you fall,” he said quietly, leaning just enough for only her to hear, “I’ll pull you up.” Ana glanced at him.
blank.
“…I won’t fall.” A small smile curved on his lips.
“Then I’ll just run with you.” That was it.
Something about that line— simple, careless— made her chest tighten unexpectedly.
Before she could respond— Whistle.
The race started.
They ran.
At first, it was messy—steps not in sync, hands pulling slightly in different directions—but within seconds, something changed.
Their pace adjusted.
Breathing aligned.
Movements matched.
Like they were learning from each other without speaking.
Ed slowed just a fraction—not enough to lose speed, but enough to match her perfectly.
His hand shifted slightly, fingers sliding into hers more naturally, not just holding—but fitting.
“A little faster,” he said, not as a command—but encouragement.
Ana nodded, pushing forward.
Wind rushed past them, the noise of the crowd rising—but somehow, she could only hear their footsteps.
And his voice.
“Don’t look down.” “I’m not.” “Good.” A faint laugh escaped him.
That sound— light, real— caught her off guard.
She turned her head slightly— and met his eyes.
For a second— They forgot the race.
Just running.
Together.
Then he pulled her slightly forward.
“Focus,” he said with a grin.
They crossed the halfway mark.
Students were shouting now—names being called, excitement rising—but Ana didn’t even realize when she started smiling.
Not forced.
Not controlled.
Just… real.
Her grip tightened around his hand.
He noticed.
And smiled wider.
Near the finish line, their speed increased without thinking—both pushing at the same time, both refusing to fall behind.
“Almost there,” Ed said, slightly breathless.
“I know!” They crossed the line— first.
They stopped abruptly, breathing hard, their hands still locked together.
Ana bent slightly, trying to catch her breath.
“Huff… huff…” Ed didn’t let go.
He was still looking at her.
Like the race hadn’t ended.
“…We won,” she said, lifting her head, a bright smile breaking across her face.
Not the controlled one.
Not the distant one.
A real one.
And for a moment— Ed just stared.
Because that smile— felt like something he didn’t want to lose.
“…Are you this happy?” he asked softly.
“Of course I am,” she replied with a bright smile.
It was quick.
Natural.
Unplanned.
But warm.
Too warm.
Ed froze.
His body stiff for a second— Then his heart started racing.
Fast.
Too fast.
His hand lifted slightly— about to hug her— when suddenly— He was pulled back.
The warmth disappeared.
Kel stood there, holding Ana’s wrist, his expression tight, unreadable.
“…Now it’s my turn,” he said.
But his voice— wasn’t calm.
And Ed, still standing there, slowly looked down at his own hand— the one that had just held hers— and felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest.
Not confusion.
Not just a surprise.
Something deeper.
Something that made him realize— That moment… meant more than it should have.