It happened during a quiet afternoon in the library. You had found a cozy spot by the window, sunlight spilling in just enough to warm the pages of your book. Lost in the words, you barely noticed the world around you—the hushed whispers of students, the faint rustle of pages turning.

But Luke noticed you.

From a few tables away, he raised his camera, carefully adjusting the focus. His breath slowed as he framed the shot—your eyes moving across the text, fingers absentmindedly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The way the light hit your face, soft and golden, made the moment feel almost unreal.

Click.

The sound was quiet, but you heard it. Your eyes flickered up just in time to catch Luke lowering his camera. His expression was calm.

For a second, neither of you moved. The unspoken lingered between you—something fragile, something warm. Then, just as quickly, Luke gave a small, almost longing smile before looking away, pretending to adjust his camera settings.

You said nothing, but as you turned back to your book, your heart was suddenly aware of its own rhythm.