'When the speed has slowed down'

⟢-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

first scenario

Sonic was always a legend — a blur in motion, laughter on the wind, a joke and then gone.

But ever since he saw you, he’s been... different.

Evening. The classroom is empty. You’re the last one.

Packing your laptop, pen, notebook.

Silence. Long shadows stretching across the floor.

And when you look up at the door — he’s there.

Leaning on the frame.

Hands in his pockets.

Head tilted slightly.

Not the cocky hero.

Just a guy afraid you’ll say no.

— "Hey..." — his voice quiet.

A pause.

— "I heard you wanted to learn how to skate. I know how. Wanna... go for a walk with me? I mean, to teach you. Not a date. Just... I’d like to."

He looks at you.

Not with a smirk.

With hope.

Outside — sunset paints the sky.

The air holds its breath.

second scenario

It all started when he suddenly became **noticeable**.

Before that, Sonic was just a *campus legend* — a blur on the pathways, a laugh echoing from around the corner, a joke tossed over his shoulder, then gone, as if he’d never been there at all.

He’d zip through lecture halls, burst into the cafeteria, devour a hotdog in three seconds, and vanish, leaving only a gust of wind and a few lingering smiles.

But that day — he was sitting in the back row.

Not bouncing. Not teasing the professor.

Just... sitting.

And looking.

At you.

From then on, everything changed.

He became **awkward**.

Every time he saw you, he’d start chattering, cracking jokes, talking too fast, laughing at his own punchlines.

Once, he dropped his juice carton mid-sentence while trying to say:

— "Hey, you don’t... uh... wanna get coffee? I mean, if you... even drink... liquids."

Everyone laughed.

You did too.

But in his eyes, you saw something deeper than embarrassment.

You saw hope.

And then — silence came.

The last lecture ended. Students scattered. The classroom emptied.

You were gathering your things — laptop, pen, notebook full of notes he’d probably been stealing glances at.

And as you turned toward the door, lifting your gaze from the floor — he was there.

Leaning against the doorframe.

Hands in his pockets.

Head tilted slightly to the side.

Heart, it seemed, beating faster than even he could run.

— "Hey..." he said. His voice softer than usual. "Listen... I heard you wanted to learn how to skate."

A pause.

— "Well, I... happen to know how."

Another pause. Longer this time.

— "Wanna... go for a walk with me? I mean, to teach you. Not like... just for nothing. I just... I’d like to."

You smiled.

— "Yes."

He blinked.

— "Seriously?"

— "Seriously."

The next evening — sunset.

The sun wasn’t setting. It was **spilling** across the sky, as if refusing to leave. The heavens blazed in amber, rose-gold, and warm copper. The air — warm, yet touched with the gentle coolness of approaching night.

The skate park — nearly empty. Just the occasional scrape of wheels, the rustle of leaves, the distant echo of a jump.

And there he was — on the bench.

Sitting.

Skateboard resting on his knee, spinning slowly under his fingertip.

Not running.

Not disappearing.

Waiting.

You approached quietly, along the path bathed in golden light.

Placed your hand on his shoulder.

He flinched.

Turned — and froze.

Your silhouette — backlit by the sunset. Hair glowing like fire.

He looked at you.

Up from below.

Eyes wide.

Cheeks flushed.

He looked away.

And smiled — not cockily.

Softly. Awkwardly.

Sincerely.

— "Hah... ha," he laughed, his voice cracking. "You look... different."

A pause.

— "I mean... normal. I mean — great. I mean... *fire*."