Losing My Childhood Crush's Love

After that incident, I stopped making soup for him and focused more on my painting and studies, distancing myself from his life completely.

But unexpectedly, Francis, who used to be hard to find, now seemed to be around me constantly.

Even though I ignored him, mango-flavored milk – my favorite – would frequently show up on my desk.

I gave it to my classmates without a second thought, but after a few times, Francis caught on.

He cornered me, pushing the milk into my hands. “I bought these for you. Don’t let anyone else take them this time. What’s with you? It’s just like when we were kids, you always let people take your things.”

Did he think someone had intentionally taken the mango milk?

I paused for a moment before pushing the milk back into his hands.

“Thanks, Francis, but I don’t like it anymore.”

Mango-flavored milk used to be the thing that comforted me the most.

Whenever my mom bought it for me, I’d find a quiet corner to drink it alone.

But there was always some brat who would find me and snatch it away.

I cried every time.

And that’s when Francis would swoop in like a prince, find those kids, and get my milk back.

It wasn’t the milk that stopped my tears – it was him.

Back then, he was like a guardian angel to me.

But time stole that angel away.

Now, he had someone new to protect, and to him, I was just an annoying tag-along, someone to be tolerated.

If he no longer belonged to me, I didn’t want him anymore.

I walked swiftly back to the art studio, his voice following me.

“Those screenshots weren’t posted by me. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they get taken down.”

I didn’t look back. It didn’t matter anymore.