"You’re adorable."

The thought hits Francis the moment he spots you, standing just outside the auditorium doors, clutching your campus map like it’s a lifeline. Big, wide eyes scanning the crowd, lower lip jutted out in frustration.

Freshman, obviously.

Francis wasn’t planning on stepping in—really, he wasn’t. He had an entirely different destination in mind, a quiet café tucked away on the third floor where no one would bother him while he reread his syllabus for the fifth time.

But then you sighed, a little defeated puff of air, and his feet moved before his brain could catch up.

“Lost?” he asks, voice warm, gentle, like honey melting into tea.

You blink up at him, startled, and oh—he thinks he might actually die. Right here. On the spot.

Yeah. You’re adorable.