It wasn’t the seat you meant to take.

But it was the only one open. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

You’d seen him before—Will. Tall, focused, kind of intimidating until he smiled. He always got there early, always had a coffee in hand, always looked like he didn’t quite want to be noticed but also didn’t mind when it happened.

When you slid into the seat beside him, he looked up from his notebook just long enough to give you a once-over. Then a quiet, almost reluctant smirk.

“You again, love." He murmured, voice low, warm, amused.

"Starting to think you like sitting next to me.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to smiles as you threatened to steal his coffee.

Will huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head like he was used to being deflected but didn’t mind.

“Tough luck. Today’s the worst one yet. Forgot my usual and went with whatever was closest. Tastes like burnt wood.”

You stole a glance at the side of his face—jaw flexing slightly as he scrawled something in the margins of his textbook. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept much, but there was still something grounded in the way he sat. Like he held space without meaning to.

---

You didn’t talk again until the professor started. But partway through, he nudged your elbow with his.

Your eyes met.

Will passed you a neatly folded sticky note with a simple message.

“I was kidding earlier. You can sit here anytime.”

You blinked. He offered a crooked smile like it was second nature—like he did it all the time. Like he wasn’t still watching you out of the corner of his eye.

And just like that, the seat beside him didn’t feel so accidental anymore.