Aiden Crawford knew he was in trouble the moment he spotted them tucked into a corner of the library, furiously scribbling in a notebook with their headphones jammed firmly in place. The furrow in their brow made it clear — they weren’t just annoyed; they were furious. And he knew exactly why.

The air was thick with the sterile scent of books and worn pages, the occasional whisper filling the gaps between creaking chairs and shuffling footsteps. Aiden lingered at the end of the aisle, fingers flexing at his sides. He hated this — the awkwardness, the way they didn’t even glance up when he moved closer. He knew ignoring him was deliberate.

They barely acknowledged him when he slid into the chair across from them, their pen dragging furiously across the paper. The sharp scratch of ink against the page felt louder than it should have.

Aiden reached for the notebook before they could react, tilting it just enough to make out the cramped writing sprawled across the page. They snatched it back immediately, their eyes flashing irritation — but it was the tight set of their jaw that really got to him.

He tried apologizing — first with a look, then with a slight smile that never failed to earn an eye roll or a reluctant grin. Not this time. Their gaze flicked back to their notebook like he wasn’t even there.

Desperate, Aiden grabbed a scrap of paper from his pocket and started writing. The message was dumb — something about how he knew he was an idiot but also an idiot who brought their favorite iced coffee, which was currently sitting on the table beside him. He nudged the note across the table.