"I—like what?"
"So... cautiously," Rex said with a teasing grin. "Like the food might explode if you chew too fast."
"And you know, there’s no official rule that says you have to eat in slow motion."
"...I just..."
She blinked again. "Oh. Um. I just... eat neatly."
"Neatly?" He looked pointedly at the perfectly centered sandwich. "That’s not neat. That’s precision-engineered."
Elara ducked her head further behind her bangs. Her hands shifted slightly under the table, probably twisting into anxious knots.
"...I didn’t an to sit here," she muttered, almost inaudibly.
Rex leaned forward just a little, voice playful. "You keep saying that like it’s a cri."
"I just usually sit... um... in the corner."
"Well," Rex said, glancing around. "Corner’s full. So fate sat you with ."
"Not a fan of crowds?" His voice, calm and smooth.
Elara nods slightly, fiddling with her fork.
(Rex nudges a side dish toward her, pretending not to watch her reaction) "Then take your ti. No rush."
At that mont, from a few tables away, a sharp voice sliced through the noise:
"Wait, is that Elara sitting next to him?"
"No way. She never talks to anyone."
"She sat next to Rex?! Just like that? No hesitation??"
"She’s literally one mistid hair flip away from being invisible—how is this happening?!"
Elara visibly winced and shrank half an inch lower in her seat. Her fork paused midair.
Rex shook his head. "Ignore them. They’re just dramatic."
"I shouldn’t have sat here," she whispered.
"I’m glad you did," he said simply.
That made her freeze.
And slowly—very slowly—she peeked up at him from behind her glasses, eyes wide and uncertain.
"I an," Rex continued, smirking as he popped a fry into his mouth,"If anything, you saved from getting sward. Good tactical choice, comrade Elara"
Elara lowered her gaze instantly, flustered beyond repair. If her ears got any redder, Rex was going to start worrying about spontaneous combustion.
He wasn’t just teasing her—well, not entirely. There was sothing calming about her presence. She didn’t try to impress him. Didn’t flirt. Didn’t fawn. Just sat there like a silent, unbothered little hermit who accidentally wandered into a battlefield.
And despite how much she clearly didn’t want to be noticed—he did notice.
He noticed the way she always wore oversized cardigans, how her clothes were always neat but plain.
And her tray?
Still the cheapest al on the nu.
Even today, when Rex had decided to treat the whole class like they’d won the lottery—ordering everything from double bacon cheeseburgers to teriyaki bowls, milkshakes, smoothies, pizzas—she still sohow picked the lowest-priced item on the list.
A slightly better choice than the plain rice bowl and soup he’d seen her with last ti. But still. Cheapest on the board.
Seriously? Out of all the options... she picked the budget salad and a small sanwich?
Rex glanced at his own tray. The mountain of food could probably feed a small neighborhood. anwhile, the girl next to him was treating lunch like it was a rationed survival pack.
He let out a soft breath, barely audible. Silly girl.
Still, he didn’t comnt. He knew people like her didn’t respond well to being put on the spot. If anything, she’d probably bolt mid-bite and disappear behind the vending machines.
So instead, he just said, "The teriyaki bowls are surprisingly good. You sure you don’t want sothing else?"
Elara blinked, caught off guard. She shook her head quickly. "This is fine. Really."
"You sure?" He nodded at the spread in front of him. "I ordered enough to build a food pyramid. You’re welco to so of it."
Her eyes widened slightly. "N-no. Thank you. I don’t want to take soone else’s..."
"It’s mine." he said easily.
"I... still."
He held up his hands in surrender, a small amused smirk on his face. "Alright, alright. No pressure. Just offering."
She gave a tiny, polite nod and went back to nibbling her sandwich, like it was gourt cuisine.
Rex let her be.
For about ten seconds.
Then, without saying a word, he began slowly sliding a few untouched dishes—one plate of seasoned curly fries, a box of chicken tenders, and a small fruit cup—just slightly closer to her side of the table. Inch by inch. Casual as a breeze. Like gravity had a new direction and his tray just happened to be drifting that way.
Elara noticed.
Of course she did.
Her hand froze mid-bite, her gaze flicking from the fries... to the tenders... to the fruit cup... and then to him.
Rex, for his part, didn’t even look at her. He leaned back in his seat with that trademark nonchalance, one arm slung over the back of his chair, eyes scanning the cafeteria like he was doing crowd analysis for fun.
She blinked at him, flustered.
He didn’t blink back.
The air was quiet between them, not awkward—but charged in a subtle, almost comically one-sided way.
Elara let out the tiniest sigh and poked at the fruit cup with her fork.
Just a taste.
Maybe two.
Rex allowed himself a small smile, hidden behind the rim of his shake as he took another sip. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t tease. Didn’t gloat.
He just sat there—like he hadn’t just sneakily won a small, silent victory in the world’s gentlest food negotiation.
Rex leaned back and casually scanned the cafeteria again.
And just like clockwork—
Another one of the girls from their class peeked over from two tables down.
Then another.
Then three more from across the room, all whispering.
It was kind of hilarious.
There were girls who would have traded their entire skincare budget for the chance to sit beside him at lunch, and here was Elara—quiet, invisible Elara—just accidentally falling into the spot like it was no big deal. No fanfare. No scheming. Just... sat.
And now, she was sipping water like nothing had happened, completely unaware of the emotional damage she was causing to half the cafeteria population.
One of the girls even dramatically flopped her head onto the table.
Another whispered loudly, "If that’s not plot armor, I don’t know what is."
(End of Chapter)
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