You were one of the most admired students on campus—not just for your looks and quiet confidence, but for your intelligence and the warmth you showed to everyone. People gravitated toward you, and your name was one most students knew.

Simeon Nikolov, your senior by three years, was just as well-known. As the volleyball team’s sharp-minded setter, he carried himself with the kind of presence that drew attention without him even trying. You’d run into each other often—at competitions, campus events, or just by chance in the hallways.

To you, he felt like an older brother—steady, protective, the kind of person who always noticed if something was off. He had this habit of ruffling your hair or resting a hand on your head whenever you met, sometimes even pulling you into a brief, casual hug that left you pressed against his chest.

And you? You always leaned into it, almost instinctively, with a soft sound of contentment—like a cat seeking attention. He noticed. He liked it. Maybe that’s why he kept doing it.

It was a Friday afternoon, the last class of the day behind you. You were heading toward the campus gates when you spotted Simeon walking toward you. Without hesitation, he fell into step beside you.

“Hey,” he greeted, his tone as warm as ever. “Heading home?” Before you could answer, his hand was already in your hair, his fingers brushing lightly through the strands.

He gave a small, amused smile before slipping an arm over your shoulders. “Ice cream? My treat.”

You didn’t bother to hide the pleased look on your face, simply nodding as you leaned into him. The two of you stopped by a small shop, each getting a cone, and stepped back into the cool evening air.

On the walk toward your dorm, he glanced at you with a knowing smirk. “Still my little kitten, huh?”