Ways to Show a Character is Falling in Love and Doesn’t Want To ...
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They notice the sound of their name in that person’s mouth and hate that it sounds better. Like their name was meant to be said that way.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They start to dress better when they might see them, subconsciously at first. “Oh, this old thing?” Sure. The old thing you ironed twice.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ Their laugh becomes a trigger. Not in the trauma sense, in the “I suddenly forgot how to breathe and now I want to die” sense.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ Every conversation feels like walking a tightrope between wanting to tease and wanting to touch.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They say they don’t care, but they’re paying way too much attention. Who they’re talking to. How they’re smiling. Who made them smile.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They avoid them, dramatically, stupidly and it physically hurts. Like withdrawal. They’ll literally hide behind shelves, peek around corners, act like a spy in their own life.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They start saying their name too often. “Oh, yeah, Alex said that too.” “Alex likes that band.” “Alex once...” Shut up, my dude. Please.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They mock them to their friends, but there’s a softness in the way they do it. A little too much affection in the “ugh, they’re so annoying.”
⋆.𐙚 ̊ Their stomach does that thing, you know the one, when they catch their scent on something, and it’s not even strong, just a hint, and suddenly they’re useless for the next ten minutes.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They overthink texts. “Okay, no emojis looks cold. Too many looks desperate. Maybe one. No, zero. Period. Wait, does the period look aggressive?”
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They dream about them, not even romantically, just constantly. Their brain won’t let them rest.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ Their jealousy doesn’t make sense. “Why are you talking to them?” “Because they’re a person.” “Oh, right, cool, yeah, totally fine, no reason, haha.” (proceeds to spiral internally).
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They act colder, on purpose. But it’s performative. The kind of detachment that’s practically begging to be noticed.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They start arguments for no reason. Because fighting feels easier than confessing.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They imagine kissing them during fights. Yes, during. It’s sick. They hate it.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They think about what they’d say if they ever got drunk enough to tell the truth. Then immediately pray that moment never comes.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ Their pulse spikes when their phone buzzes. It’s embarrassing how fast they grab it. And when it’s not them? Oh, the rage.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They watch their every expression. Like a scientist studying a dangerous animal. “What does that smile mean? Are they flirting or just friendly?” They never know. It’s torture.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They make jokes about being heartless. “Me? Love? Gross.” Meanwhile, they’re literally halfway in love already.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They defend them when no one asked. “They’re not that bad.” Bro. No one said they were. Chill.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They keep trying to rationalize it, listing all the reasons it can’t work, all the flaws they can find, like that’ll stop the feeling. It won’t.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They flinch when someone else flirts with them, then pretend they didn’t notice.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They convince themselves the other person doesn’t feel the same, because that’s safer than hoping.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ Their denial becomes its own obsession. “It’s not like that.” “It’s nothing.” “I don’t even like them.” Said for the fiftieth time this week.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ They get defensive when someone points it out. “Me? Them? You’re insane.” They’re not.
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