VII. andante, andante
pepe marti x classmate!reader
a highschool crush turns into a slow and steady relationship
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It all began with your friends’ relentless teasing during lunch break. You were laughing, completely oblivious to the underlying reason for their constant jibes and hints.
“Honestly, how can you not see it?” your best friend Mia said, exasperation lacing her tone.
“See what?” you replied, genuinely puzzled.
“Pepe Marti! He’s totally into you. He’s always watching you in class,” Mia declared, her voice lowering conspiratorially.
Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. Pepe was a famous guy in your school. While you guys were spending hours in classrooms learning history and algebra, he was out racing in different countries, and he was doing pretty well. You’d always admired him from afar but never considered the possibility that he might notice you, let alone like you.
“No way,” you said, shaking your head. “He’s got so much going on with his racing. Why would he be interested in me?”
But the seed had been planted. You couldn’t help but replay moments in your mind—Pepe’s lingering gazes, the shy smiles he directed your way. Maybe your friends were right.
Days passed, and the idea that Pepe liked you began to feel less absurd. You started noticing him more, catching his eyes in class, and each time, he’d look away, cheeks slightly flushed.
One day, after an extremely boring English lesson, you found yourself alone, gathering your books slowly. You glanced up and saw Pepe standing by the door, seemingly hesitant.
“Hey,” he said, his hands playing with the strap of his backpack.
“Hi!,” you replied, almost too quickly for your liking.
He stepped into the classroom. “Can we talk?”
“Sure!,” you were in no actual mood to talk with anyone, but you were curious about what Pepe wanted to say.
Pepe took a deep breath, and for a moment, he thought about just running away, too scared of your rejection. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now,” he began, his voice gentle. “I like you. A lot. I know it might sound crazy because we don’t get to spend much time together, but it’s the truth.”
You stood there, stunned into silence. Pepe’s face fell, interpreting your lack of response as rejection. He turned to leave, but before he could take another step, you rushed forward and grabbed his arm.
“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling. “I like you too, Pepe. I really do. But…can we take things slow? I don’t want to rush into anything and risk losing you.”
Relief washed over his features, and he smiled, the kind of smile that lit up his entire face, and yours in return. “Of course. I’d love that.”
From that moment on, your relationship blossomed slowly but beautifully. You’d steal moments between classes, share quiet conversations, and text each other late into the night. Pepe’s racing schedule was demanding, but he always made time for you, even if it was just a brief call from a different time zone.
One evening, as you sat together on a bench in the park, you found yourself lost in his eyes.
“There’s a shimmer in your eyes,” you murmured, as he looked at you curiously. “Like the feeling of a thousand butterflies.”
Pepe smiled and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You make everything feel like that,” he whispered.
Despite the growing closeness, a part of you remained fearful. What if the demands of his career pulled him away from you? What if the whirlwind of his racing world left no room for your quiet moments?
“Please, let’s take it slowly,” you’d often say, your voice betraying your insecurities.
Pepe would always hold you close, his embrace reassuring. “We will. I’m not going anywhere,” he’d promise.
Your relationship became a delicate dance, balancing the excitement of new love with the caution of taking things step by step. Pepe continued with his racing career, and you got into university, majoring in mechanical engineering.
And in the moments after the race, when he’d return to you, exhausted but elated, you’d see it in his eyes—the same shimmer, the same butterflies. He was yours, and you were his, moving forward together, one gentle step at a time.
