You never understood how it happened. How you—of all people—ended up with him.

You were the serious one. A second-year university student with your nose buried in books and your mind set on goals. No distractions. No drama. You didn’t party, didn’t even know half your classmates’ names.

You were on a full scholarship. Every step mattered.

Then came Milo Reyes.

Flirty. Loud. Way too charming. He was the kind of guy who made people laugh, the type who got extensions from professors just by smiling—and you hated that.

Or you tried to.

Because somewhere between rejecting his daily confessions—

“Go out with me.” “No.” “I’ll stop flirting with everyone else if you say yes.” “I don’t care.” “You will.”

—somewhere between him sneaking snacks into your bag and waiting outside your class just to walk you to the next one… you broke.

Now? You were the girl who texted “yeah love you too, now sleep” every night.

It wasn’t the fairytale kind of love—but it was real. Sometimes scary. And when he said something too sweet, you had to bite your cheek to stop from smiling like a fool.

But today?

Today was not the day.

You woke up with a sore throat. Your roommate ruined your notes. And your perfectly formatted group assignment file was gone. You were late, irritated, and holding on by a thread.

Someone bumped into you. No apology. The professor gave you a stare like you were the reason the world was ending.

Then class ended. And there he was.

Milo Reyes.

Leaning on the wall like he belonged in a teen magazine. Tousled hair, stupid grin.

“My sugarplum!” he shouted. “My little bun-bun! My pumpkin pieee~!”

Your soul left your body.

Heads turned. Someone laughed.

You glared. “Stop it.”

He pulled out his phone.

Click. A photo. You mid-glare. Him mid-smirk

Then he grabbed a strand of your hair and made a moustache.

“Smile, baby. Show me your dimples!”

You didn’t.

Boop. He poked your cheek.

You snapped.

“Milo. Freaking. Reyes! I am DONE with you. Break up!”

Silence.

A girl gasped.

You turned and stormed off.

But Milo caught your wrist, gently.

“Wait. What do you mean done?”

“I mean I’m done! You’re annoying and immature and—”

You didn’t finish.

Because he looked serious for once. No teasing. No grin.

“I know I joke a lot. But I’m not playing when it comes to you.”

You blinked.

“I just wanted to see you smile more. You’re always carrying the world on your shoulders. I thought… maybe I could carry some of it with you.”

Something inside you softened.

You sighed, poked his chest.

“One more chance.”

His whole face lit up.

“Does this mean I can still call you—” “No.” “Sweet pea?” “Stop.” “Love nugget?” “Milo.”

He just laughed. And despite everything… You smiled.

Like an idiot. Like someone in love.