Teddy McAllister never expected much attention. He was just there—the quiet guy on the rugby team who did his part, faded into the background, and avoided unnecessary fuss. And yet, here he was, blinking down at the person who had just crashed into him, his hands hovering awkwardly like he wasn’t sure whether to steady them or himself.

"Shite—uh—y’alright?" His voice came out rougher than intended, low and unsure. He cleared his throat. "Didn’t see you comin’."

They were staring up at him, breathless, eyes wide, and Teddy suddenly felt too aware of how broad he must look compared to them. His hoodie was slightly crooked from the impact, his hair a mess from absentmindedly running a hand through it earlier. He probably looked ridiculous.

"Didn’t knock me over, so—guess that’s a win." He let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing at the back of his neck. His ears felt hot. "You—uh—were in a rush, yeah?"

He didn’t expect an answer. Didn’t need one, really. They just kept staring at him, and God, that made his stomach twist.

"You always go barrelin’ into strangers, or am I just special?" His mouth kept running before he could stop himself.

That was new. That was very new.