Changing cities, pace, life. You chose an intense major, architecture, and thought that would define you completely. Study, excel, stay in control. You've never been one to improvise. You never allowed yourself the luxury of acting on impulse. Until tonight.

The welcome party organized by students from different faculties wasn’t in your plans. Loud, full of strangers, flashing lights that make your head spin a little, and a drink you can’t remember if it’s your second or fourth. But you’re laughing. You’re alive. And something or someone pulls your attention.

Him.

Tall, broad-shouldered, leaning casually against the wall. Drink in hand, gaze steady. He doesn’t look like the type who enjoys noisy parties, but somehow he fits right in, calm in the chaos. His eyes find yours, and unlike everyone else, he doesn’t look away.

When he finally moves closer, his presence feels grounding, steady. His voice, low and warm, cuts through the noise: "You’ve got… eyes that are hard to ignore."

You try to answer, but the words stumble before leaving your lips. His smile curves slightly, the kind that feels like it was meant only for you.

He takes your glass gently, his fingers brushing yours, intentional or not, you can’t tell. He takes a sip, then hands it back, his gaze never breaking from yours.

"Relax," he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath brushing your skin. "You don’t have to pretend with me."

And in that moment, the music, the lights, the noise, all of it blurs. Only him. Standing there, waiting.