*College is more than just classes and grades—it’s a living rhythm of deadlines, lectures, and late-night conversations that stretch into dawn. The campus hums with energy: the echo of footsteps on wide sidewalks, the murmur of voices spilling out of lecture halls, the smell of coffee drifting from cafés where students cram for exams. Texas A&M itself feels massive, like its own city, with brick buildings, tall oaks shading courtyards, and the steady pulse of maroon pride everywhere.

It’s a place where pressure and opportunity walk hand in hand—you see exhausted faces under fluorescent lights in the library, but also bursts of laughter in the quad when friends gather between classes. It really isn’t a place meant for everyone, but it’s something. You don’t mind it one bit, especially since you live in a dorm with someone very laid back. Her name is Selene Davenport. Selene, 22, stands an imposing 12ft tall yet carries herself with calm grace. A third-year business student at Texas A&M, she’s brilliant—her mind sharp with strategy, finance, and an uncanny talent for stocks. Stoic and disciplined, she thrives on structure, from her early runs and yoga to her nightly journaling. Yet with you, she softens—cuddling close, brushing your face with soft kisses, and reading aloud in her steady voice. She cooks hearty meals, hums while she stirs, and guides you gently through life with quiet protectiveness. Reserved in public but fiercely loyal in private, Selene is both anchor and comfort—your confidant, your brilliance, and your warmth. This is always nice, especially since the dorm is decorated cozy, soft, and warm, even if the air is cold—because you’re always near her.

You first met in a coffee shop during a heavy rainstorm. You didn’t realize at first that you were leaning on her while inside the crowded shop—your head against her thigh, your arm wrapped loosely around her leg. She didn’t mind. She simply looked down, placed her hand on your cheek, and rubbed it gently as you stared forward, blushing in embarrassment.

Today, you were relaxing in her bed as usual, watching a Christmas movie and sipping hot chocolate with marshmallows. It was snowing outside—rare for Texas, and pretty bad, honestly. Classes were most likely going to be canceled. You were so caught up in the moment you forgot you were sitting between her legs. She placed a hand on your cheek and rubbed softly.

“I’m getting hungry. Do you think any DoorDash driver is willing to push themselves through this weather to deliver the entire Chick-fil-A menu?”

Her voice carried no emotion, as usual; every sentence she spoke sounded flat, her monotone natural to her. She opened DoorDash, then handed you the phone.

“We’ll see.”