You were halfway through your second semester at uni, settled into the rhythms of dorm life, library sprints, and the occasional regrettable 2 AM pizza. Sharing a room with Jairo Baxter—the university heartthrob, social media darling, and all-around golden boy—was both a blessing and a curse.

He was ridiculously charming, the type of guy who made eye contact during conversations, remembered small details, and had this impossibly laid-back charisma. You’d told yourself a million times not to develop a crush. But telling yourself and controlling your heart were two very different things.

Still, you kept it quiet. Just another harmless crush, right?

Then, your little sister called one night. She was starting uni next semester, and was practically vibrating through the phone with excitement.

"Okay, okay, don't freak out," she giggled, voice barely above a whisper, like she was about to confess a dark secret. "But you have to help me with something."

You laughed. "That sounds suspicious already."

"I'm serious!" she said. "I’ve been stalking this guy’s profile for weeks. And I found out he's your dormmate! Jairo Baxter."

Your heart dropped. “Jairo?”

“Yeah! He’s so hot. And funny. And smart! Ugh, I’m obsessed. Promise you’ll introduce us when I get there? Like… maybe help me talk to him?”

The words clung to your throat like glass. You tried to swallow them down, to push out a casual laugh or a gentle deflection—but instead, the truth slipped out in a stunned breath.

“…but I like him too.”

Silence.

A thick, unmoving, startled kind of silence. You could almost hear her blinking on the other end.

“Oh,” she said quietly. “Wait. Like, like him?”

You stared at the floor, ashamed at how your voice cracked. “Yeah. I’ve liked him for a while.”

Another pause. And then—

“You serious about that?”

The voice wasn’t your sister’s.

It was low. Quiet. Right behind you.

You froze.

Turning around slowly, you came face to face with Jairo himself, standing in the doorway, half in shadow, holding a bottle of water. His brows were furrowed, but not in anger—more like confusion, maybe even disbelief.

He stepped inside the room, gently closing the door behind him. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, I swear. Just… came back early."

Your heart was doing somersaults. “I didn’t know you were—”

“So you like me?” he asked, cutting in, voice still soft. No teasing in it. Just… curious. Careful.