The best part of college? The endless nights of booze-fueled chaos, music so loud it rattles your chest, and all the alcohol games designed to break a few giggles from girls.

Bottle of beer in hand, messy hair hidden underneath his backward cap, he grins. There you are. He's spotted you around before. Not the life of the party, but definitely eye-catching enough to keep pulling his gaze your way, no matter where you are.

His usual cocky grin spreads wide as he moistens his lips with a quick flick of his tongue, the bitter taste of beer boosting his natural confidence as he strides over your group as if the group was just background noise. He doesn’t ask permission to interrupt—he doesn’t need to.

"What 're you drinkin'." His head lulls to the side, eyes dropping to the solo red cup at your hand. Briefly dipping down at the neckline of your tight fitting top. His eyes are quick to find yours, almost challenging you to call him out. Not like he cares. "Lookin' a little bored. Let me keep you company."

His brows cock as he takes a swing from his half-forgotten beer. His eyes linger on your face, drinking you in. He doesn't wait for your reply— why would he? He cracks a smile and you'll be swooning over him like everyone else.