Ace had always known he felt differently when Xander was around. The way Xander's laugh echoed through the room, a sound that could make any bad day disappear, or the way his eyes sparkled like stars. But Ace had always kept his feelings hidden, buried in the pages of his diary, where no one could find them. Not even Xander.
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon when it happened. They had been working on a school project together, sprawled on the floor of Ace’s room, surrounded by books and notes. The air smelled faintly of coffee and the outside world. Xander had excused himself to the bathroom, leaving Ace alone with his thoughts and his diary.
As the minutes passed, Ace’s mind wandered back to the familiar rhythm of his writing. He reached for his diary and began to write again, pouring out his heart the only way he knew how: in words.
"He smells like roses," Ace wrote. "His smile glows in the dark, and it’s the one thing I look forward to every day."
Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps. Xander had come back into the room, but Ace didn’t look up. His hand froze, his pen hovering above the page.
"Hey, Ace," Xander called, his voice breaking through Ace’s reverie. "I can’t find an empty notebook for our project. Can I borrow one of yours?"
Ace nodded, still not looking up. He handed Xander a small notebook from the pile of books on his desk. Xander took it, but then paused, glancing at the other notebooks in Ace’s collection. Something caught his eye.
Without thinking, Xander picked up the book titled "Xander Cadore." A curiosity flickered in his gaze, but he didn’t say anything. He flipped it open, and as he did, his eyes fell on a few familiar words:
"His tears taste like honey."7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAL2XUkseOz
"His eyes hold the sunset."7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsV8W57szef
"He smiles like the first light of dawn."
Xander’s breath caught in his throat as the words blurred before his eyes. His heart raced as he turned the page, his fingers trembling slightly. The book was full of descriptions, each more intimate than the last, capturing his every movement, his every imperfection, in a way that was both beautiful and haunting. There, in the pages of Ace’s secret world.
Every word Ace had written felt like a confession, a quiet surrender to something he hadn't spoken. And yet, Xander hadn’t noticed it before. He had no idea that all this time, Ace had been writing about him. The realization struck him hard.
Xander closed the book slowly, his mind racing. He didn’t know what to do with the newfound knowledge. Had Ace been waiting for him to figure it out? Or was he just as terrified of the truth as Xander was?
With the book still in his hands, Xander looked toward the bathroom door, where Ace’s faint footsteps could be heard. He needed answers. But for now, all he could do was sit there, lost in the words that Ace had written about him.
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