The university canteen was already packed when you arrived, tray in hand, scanning for your group. Alex was at your usual table, chatting with Noah, who had his notebook open even while eating.

“You’re late,” Alex teased, stealing a fry.

“You’re annoying,” you shot back, sliding into your seat. Across from you, Noah looked up, smirking.

“I predicted you’d arrive exactly three minutes ago,” he said, tapping his watch. “Off by 180 seconds. Disappointing.”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched. “Maybe your model is flawed.”

“Or maybe you’re just too unpredictable,” he murmured, holding your gaze a beat too long.

Lunch was filled with easy banter, but you felt his eyes on you between conversations. Even in the library later, when everyone fell into quiet study mode, the tension lingered. You were highlighting notes when his hand brushed yours reaching for a pen. Neither of you moved for a second.

“You’re distracting me,” you muttered without looking up.

“Funny,” he murmured, voice low, “I was about to say the same thing.”