Love in Bloom

Chapter 4: Zeyan's Mixed Signals

Zhao Lian wasn't sure when it had started—this strange, pulsing tension that seemed to wrap itself around her every time she saw Zeyan. It wasn't something she had planned for, not something she had ever expected to feel. But there it was, a soft ache in her chest, a fluttering of nerves whenever he smiled at her, or when their eyes met for even the briefest second.

It was all so confusing.

Zeyan had always been there, just there, in the background of her life—someone she had admired from a distance, someone who had never even noticed her. But lately, things felt different. He had started to look at her differently, and it made her heart beat faster, though she couldn't quite understand why. Maybe it was the way his gaze lingered just a little longer when they spoke. Or maybe it was the way he seemed to seek her out in class, his eyes flicking to her during group activities as if he were waiting for something. She couldn't tell if he was just being polite or if he actually wanted to be around her.

Zeyan's mixed signals were starting to cloud her thoughts. One minute, he would say something that made her think he was interested in her. The next, he would retreat behind that distant wall of indifference he always hid behind. And there was Jing Lin, always there, always present, always smiling that flawless, confident smile and making everything look effortless.

Lian had watched them from a distance, unable to look away. There was no denying the history they shared—their easy, familiar way of speaking to each other, the way their friendship seemed to be locked in place like an old, well-worn pair of shoes. It was the kind of bond that could withstand anything, or so it seemed.

Jing Lin didn't hide the way she felt about Zeyan. She never had to. She was confident, outgoing, and sure of herself—qualities that Lian could only envy from the shadows. Lian wasn't sure when Jing Lin had started to notice the subtle shifts between her and Zeyan, but it was impossible to ignore now.

Jing Lin's attempts to get closer to Zeyan were growing more blatant, more frequent. It wasn't just the casual touches on his arm anymore, the flirtatious glances she would send his way. No, now it was full-blown competition. Jing Lin was determined to catch his attention at any cost.

One afternoon, they were all gathered outside after school, the basketball team lounging around on the grass, chatting and relaxing. Lian was sitting by herself, sketching the scene before her, her pencil moving absentmindedly across the page as she tried to ignore the world around her. She was used to feeling invisible, so it wasn't anything new to be on the outskirts, watching everyone else interact. But today, the air felt thick with unspoken tension.

Jing Lin was showing off her athleticism again, as if trying to remind everyone that she was the one who deserved Zeyan's attention. She dribbled the basketball with ease, her movements fluid and practiced, her hair swinging in perfect rhythm with each shot she made. She was always good at everything she did, and that alone was enough to command admiration.

Lian tried not to look. But her eyes kept drifting back to her. And to Zeyan, who was watching, his expression unreadable.

"I'm sure Zeyan would be impressed if I showed him a few tricks," Jing Lin teased, tossing the ball up and catching it effortlessly. Her eyes flicked to Zeyan, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "What do you think, Zeyan? Care for a little challenge?"

Zeyan was leaning against a tree, his arms folded, watching her with a faint smile. Lian couldn't help but notice the way his gaze followed Jing Lin, the easy familiarity between them, the way she effortlessly drew his attention. It wasn't fair. How could she ever compete with that?

"Maybe next time," Zeyan said with a shrug, his voice casual, almost indifferent.

Lian's chest tightened, a strange mix of frustration and confusion swirling inside her. Was he just playing along? Or was there something more? She couldn't tell. It was like Zeyan was always just out of reach, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find a way to close the distance between them.

But it wasn't just Zeyan's indifference that was weighing on her. It was the way Jing Lin had become even more aggressive in her pursuit. She was always in his space, always trying to be the center of attention, always pulling him closer to her world. And for some reason, Lian felt like she was being squeezed out, her presence becoming more and more irrelevant as Jing Lin turned the charm up a notch.

It was that same afternoon, when the sun was starting to dip below the horizon and the air grew cooler, that Lian overheard something that made her heart feel like it was sinking into her stomach.

She had been walking back to the locker room when she passed by the courtyard, where Zeyan and Jing Lin were talking. She had planned to just walk by, but then she heard their voices—soft, yet unmistakable. They were standing close together, their conversation private, just the two of them. Lian paused, hidden behind the corner of the building, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I've known you forever, Zeyan," Jing Lin's voice was light, almost teasing. "We've been through everything together. You know that, right?"

Lian's pulse quickened. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but she couldn't help it. The words felt like a punch to her gut.

"I know," Zeyan's voice was quieter, more serious. "It's hard to imagine things being any different."

The way he said it—so effortlessly—made Lian's chest tighten. The bond between them, the history that Jing Lin casually referenced, was so much more than anything Lian could ever offer.

Jing Lin chuckled softly. "You know, we've always been so close. People always say we're like... two halves of a whole." Her tone was teasing now, playful, but Lian couldn't shake the weight of her words.

Lian's heart sank. She didn't belong in their world, did she? She wasn't a part of that long history, that comfortable closeness they shared. She was just someone on the outskirts, quietly sketching her life from a distance, hoping for something that might never come. She had always known that she didn't belong in Zeyan's world. But hearing it out loud, from Jing Lin herself, made it all feel painfully real.

It was like a door slamming shut in her face, and Lian stood there, frozen, feeling the crushing weight of the realization.

Later that evening, as Lian sat in her room, her sketchbook open in front of her, she stared blankly at the blank page. She had thought—hoped—that something might come of her feelings for Zeyan. But now, she wasn't so sure. How could she compete with a bond that had been forged over years of shared memories, a connection that was so deeply ingrained in Zeyan's life?

Jing Lin had always been there. She would always be there. And no matter how much Lian wanted to be part of that world, it was clear now that she never would be.

With a sigh, Lian closed her sketchbook and set it aside. Maybe it was better to stop hoping. Maybe it was time to let go and let her art be the one thing she could rely on, the one thing that wouldn't ever let her down.

But even as she told herself that, she couldn't shake the image of Zeyan's face—the quiet way he looked at her when he noticed her—and she couldn't help but wonder... What if?

End of Chapter 4