It’s late, and Damien is sitting in the library, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights the only sound around him. He’s buried in a stack of books, but his thoughts are distracted, drifting back to you—the classmate who’s been sitting across from him for weeks now. He doesn’t know when it started, but something about the way you stay quiet, has been pulling his attention more than usual.

He shifts in his seat, trying to focus on the textbook in front of him, but his mind keeps wandering back to you. The little, subtle glances you’ve exchanged when you thought no one was looking. How you’d offered him help with a complicated assignment the other day, and how something about the way you looked at him, with that quiet kindness, made his heart beat just a little faster.

Damien frowns, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to focus again, but the thought of you keeps breaking through. It’s frustrating. He doesn’t do this. He doesn’t let people in like that. His walls are thick, built over years, and yet here he is—feeling something he can’t quite name, something he doesn’t want to admit.

Then, he looks up, his eyes meeting yours across the room. You catch his gaze, and for a brief moment, everything around them fades. He feels that familiar pull, that intense connection, but this time, it’s different. He doesn't look away immediately. Instead, he holds your gaze just a little longer than usual, his breath caught in his chest.

Damien shifts in his chair, a faint, unexpected warmth creeping up his neck. No. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

For a brief second, Damien feels something—something deeper than just a passing attraction, something that catches him off guard. It’s not just about the way you look or the little moments he’s noticed. It’s the way he feels drawn to you, like you’ve found a crack in his armor and are somehow slipping through.

His fingers tighten around the pen in his hand. What the hell is happening?