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One night, as their casual messaging was underway, Luna surprised Vos by asking directly if he liked that aggressive new girl, the one who had appeared out of nowhere. She then added a confusing command: If the answer was yes, he should go and talk to her. Stunned by the unexpected inquiry, Vos fumbled his response, and texted back the single, impulsive word: Tiamo.

Luna, predictably, did not understand the Italian at all. Vos had no choice but to force himself into a full explanation of the confession. Once he finished detailing the truth of his feelings, he was hit with a crushing silence. She rejected him. Vos was utterly dumbfounded, the shock vibrated through him like an electrical current. He silently excused himself, claimed he was going to sleep, then immediately turned his phone off. He had not slept a wink, of course. Vos always feigned sleep when he needed to escape an unbearable reality. His mind churned with a singular, agonizing fear: Now that she had refused him, would she start to ignore him? The thought was profoundly annoying.

For the next few days, every interaction felt arduous, painfully awkward. A cringy silence stretched between them in the classroom. Perhaps they were simply both shy. One afternoon, Vos crept up close to her, and whispered his plea, "Hey Luna, can we please forget what happened that day? Okay?"

"How can I forget? It is hard," she replied, and shook her head slowly.

It was indeed hard to forget. Vos understood that. What girl could easily erase the memory of a guy who had just confessed his love to her after she refused? But Vos could not bear their current distance. He desperately needed to return to the easy closeness they had shared, but he also needed their relationship to move forward, away from the agonizing ambiguity.

A few hopeful weeks later, fueled by the evidence of her earlier jealousy and his unwavering hope, Vos ventured the same momentous question, "Can Luna finally be my lover?"

To his absolute astonishment, Luna slowly nodded. She explained that her previous refusal had not been a definite no, but pure, overwhelming shyness. The revelation was magical. It was impossible to fully describe the rush of happiness he felt. Vos wanted to shout the news, to jump for joy and tell the entire world that the girl he had loved for so long finally loved him back. Who wouldn't feel this magnificent relief when their feelings were returned?

That moment ended the miserable days of peeping secretly from the shadows of the back row. Now, he could watch her openly, publicly, as his own.

He remembered their first official moments, most of which took place in the quiet privacy of the IT room. They would sit next to each other, hidden from the general chaos of the school. It was there that he first held her hand, right there in the glow of a computer screen. It was there he first kissed her cheek. It was also in that room where he heard her say, with a soft, genuine whisper, "Luna loves Foxie." There were countless great moments, but that unexpected, perfect nickname was Vos's absolute favorite.

While dating, they experienced the full spectrum of high school emotion: dizzying happiness, sharp sadness, burning jealousy, and brief flashes of anger. Their struggles stemmed from Luna's persistent naiveté and Vos's natural, heavy taciturnity. But despite the arguments, he was undeniably blissful. Their timeframe as lovers was wonderful, a priceless collection of experiences. Vos swore he would never forget this precious time. He would keep it locked securely in his memory and his heart forever.

For now, he knew he should stop looking back or worrying too much about the future. The time to love was now. The matter of tomorrow would be a story for another day. He was the fox who had finally reached the celestial body he adored. He no longer felt the need to jump desperately from star to star across the vast night sky. Luna was a solid ground, a gravitational center, and being in her orbit felt like the only natural place to be. Every shared glance, every joke, every moment of easy silence was carefully filed away, luminous treasures that shone brighter than any anxiety about the coming years. They were here, together, and that was a perfect, self contained world. Their love existed in the moment, a beautiful, high school bubble he intended to protect fiercely.

[The End]