Castillian #1: Sinner's Formula

"You didn't sleep again, did you?"

Scarlet froze mid-step. She turned to Kathryn, who was raising an eyebrow while casually chewing on bread.

"W-what? I did!" She stammered, trying to hide the pink spreading across her cheeks.

"Girl, don't even try me." Liza chimed in, laughing as she mimicked Scarlet's voice.

"You were talking in your sleep earlier —'Don't touch me there, Mico…'"

"LIZA!" Scarlet clamped a hand over her mouth, mortified. "What the hell?!" Scarlet groaned. It was hard to live when your best friends were full-fledged gossip queens.

To be fair… even she couldn't explain it anymore.

It had started out as simple algebra and trig.

Mico was serious when he taught her—organized notes, clear instructions, completely focused on helping her pass. But as the sessions went on… something changed.

It wasn't just nerves anymore when their eyes met. It wasn't just embarrassment when he emphasized a point or leaned in to explain something.

There was something else. A current. Warm. Tense. Like there was a silent game happening between glances and gestures.

And worst of all— She couldn't focus.

---

"Did you get the formula for Law of Sines?" Mico asked, sitting casually on the edge of the Engineering lounge study table. It was cozy. Quiet. Almost like they were the only two people in the world.

"Uhm… not really? Repeat it, please, kuya," she teased, laughing nervously—hoping the humor would distract her from how close he was sitting.

"Kuya, huh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. There was the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.

"Well… you're a senior, right? I'm just being respectful." Her voice shook slightly despite her efforts.

He looked at her for a moment, then casually handed her a pen. "Take this. Write it down."

Scarlet froze for a split second when his warm fingers brushed against the back of her hand, sliding slightly against her wrist.

A small gesture. Subtle. Gentle. Deliberate.

"Ah…" She gulped.

"You're tense again," he muttered, leaning in just a bit closer.

"Huh?" She looked up, and their eyes met. Mico's gaze was steady. Slow. Intense.

Like he was reading straight through her.

"I said you're stiff. Just relax."

Then—he gently brushed his hand over her shoulder. Just once. But it was enough to send a jolt through her entire body.

She bit her lip and forced herself to look back down at her paper. But no matter how hard she tried, Mico's voice echoed in her head. Deep, calm, close.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah," she mumbled, shifting in her seat.

Why the hell was the lounge suddenly so hot?

That night, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

She couldn't sleep. She couldn't not think.

Replay. Replay. Replay.

From the way he held her hand to show the proper equation… To the moment their faces almost touched when he passed her the eraser…

"Relax, Scarlet."

She heard it again. Felt his fingers adjusting her collar because "It's damp with sweat."

Holy sh—

Scarlet buried her face in her pillow and screamed into it.

"Lord, please deliver me from this flirtatious spiral!"

---

The next session was even worse.

Worse, meaning: more confusing.

"So the triangle… uh…" She stared at the paper like it had personally offended her.

"You're not focused again," Mico said, voice low.

Maybe because you're breathing directly on my neck?! She wanted to scream.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Want me to move away?"

YES.

But what came out was: "It's fine."

What the hell, Scarlet?!

And then he did it again.

That touch. This time, the side of her thigh—when she reached for a paper that had fallen to the floor.

"You good?" He asked.

"Y-yeah."

She was not good.

Not when his fingers brushed her knee. Not when he whispered "You're improving" so close to her ear she could feel his breath.

Not when her heart was pounding loud enough to register on the Richter scale.

---

Another session:

"Scarlet, stay still."

She sat at the study table. Mico was behind her—too close.

"Your line's not straight. Here," he leaned over, gently holding the hand she was using to draw.

His palm was hot against her skin. She immediately started sweating at the nape of her neck.

"K-Kuya M-Mico…"

"Relax. That's why I'm tutoring you, right?"

His voice? Smooth as silk.

But Scarlet wasn't hearing math anymore.

She was hearing her heartbeat. Fast. Loud. Confused.

And then—she felt it.

His chest lightly pressed against her back. Gentle. But unmistakable.

This wasn't a normal tutoring position anymore. This wasn't the same Mico the whole gym screamed for during games.

This was something else entirely.

"Mico…" She whispered again, barely able to speak.

Then, slowly… so slowly, he turned her chair around to face him.

They stared at each other. Eye to eye. Chest to chest.

The room was silent—but it was screaming.

Mico looked at her like he was searching for something— Answers. Permission. Courage.

Scarlet felt the air thicken around her. She couldn't breathe.

"You okay?" Mico asked, his voice huskier than usual.

She nodded. Small. Nervous. And suddenly, she wasn't sure who moved first.

Was it her hand that touched his chest?

Or his hand that grabbed the side of her chair to pull her closer?

All she knew was that his face—his lips—were getting closer.

Scarlet closed her eyes. Lips parting slightly.

Just a few inches left—

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

"Mico, you in there?"

The door opened.

"OH MY GAAAA—" It was Felix, nearly dropping the milk tea in his hand. "Uhm. Sorry to interrupt your… quadratic intimacy."

Mico immediately backed away. Scarlet stumbled in her chair, gripping the table for dear life.

"What the hell are you doing here, Felix?!" Mico snapped, face red with frustration (and very much flustered).

"I thought something happened to you! You weren't replying to the group chat! We have training tomorrow—and Coach is already mad because you missed the meeting!"

"I was just late!" Mico snapped back, though his ears were very red now.

Felix grinned. "Scarlet! You teaching him a different formula? Is this the lips-to-lips method?"

Scarlet wanted the earth to swallow her whole. "K-Kuya Felix! It's not—it's NOT THAT!"

Mico sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Get out."

"Sure, sure, I'm going. But Scarlet, want a milk tea? My treat. That scene was GOLD. Wattpad-worthy!"

"GET OUT!" The two of them yelled in unison.

Once Felix was gone, silence fell.

Scarlet was red. Sunburn red.

Mico was pacing. "I—sorry."

"It's not your fault," she whispered.

Mico turned to her. "Scarlet…"

They stared at each other.

This time—no interruptions. But somehow… neither of them moved.

She finally stood, picking up her notebook. "I think I should go. I might be late tomorrow."

He nodded, jaw clenched.

Before she turned the doorknob, he called out.

"Scarlet."

"Hmm?"

Mico looked like he wanted to say something. His mouth opened slightly… then closed again.

He ran a hand down his face. "Get home safe."

She nodded slowly. "You too."

Then she walked away—her knees still shaking, her heart screaming all the what ifs.