The thought had never even occurred to me. I genuinely just assumed he wasn’t interested. That was the simple explanation. I made a move, Oscar politely declined, and I retreated into my own embarrassment like a responsible adult.

But Alfie wouldn’t let it go.

“There’s a lot of energy around you,” he said. “It makes people feel exposed. They don’t always know how to handle it.”

I laughed it off at first. It sounded dramatic. But later I started replaying things.

I had been too focused on not humiliating myself to notice the details. The pause before he answered. The way he clenched his fists. The fact that he held eye contact just a second too long before looking away.

Alfie had noticed.

“There was interest,” he said carefully. “But when he realised it might actually become something real, he pulled back. Did you see him blush?”

I hadn’t. I’d been too busy overthinking my own tone of voice.

“He wasn’t rejecting you,” Alfie continued. “He was protecting himself.”

I don’t know. Maybe that’s giving him too much credit. Maybe it’s just a way of coping. But when I think about it now — the way he looked at me before he looked away — it didn’t feel cold. It felt cautious.

“He finds you intimidating,” Alfie added. “Magnetic. But intimidating.”

That word stuck.

Maybe he’s not distant. Maybe he’s careful.

And maybe — just maybe — the story isn’t over.