you noticed him first in your first semester.

not because he stood out–he seemed more like he was trying not to draw attention to himself–but because you felt his gaze on you. more than once.

it was clear that phainon had a thing for you. he wasn’t subtle. not with the way his gaze lingered a beat too long, or how his ears turned pink every time you waved at him across campus. always polite, always quiet, always the last to leave lecture halls with a stack of color-coded notes.

you found it cute. amusing, even. especially when he got flustered trying to talk to you and mumbled something about Kant and walked straight into a recycling bin.

so when you invited him over one night–”to chill, nothing big, just some downtime”–he showed up nervously tugging the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, a little too early, and awkwardly handed you a bottle of water like it was a housewarming gift.

your dorm smelled faintly of whatever scented candle you’d lit, and there was music playing low on your speaker, rhythmic and lazy. you were already setting up when you turned to him with a smirk.

“you’ve never done this before, have you?”

he stiffened slightly. “I– haven’t, no. is it that obvious?”

“mhm.” you tossed him a lighter and grinned. “you’ll be fine. I’ll walk you through it.”

he sat cross-legged on your bed, eyes wide and curious, watching every move you made. his fingers fidgeted in his lap, nails neat, rings silver. he looked nervous. like he was more worried about embarrassing himself in front of you than getting high.

you offered him the joint first. he took it with shaky fingers.

“won’t I mess it up?” he asked, already self conscious.

you smiled, amused and vaguely delighted with his innocence. you took the joint back from him, bringing it to your lips and taking a drag. you held it in for a moment, exhaling slowly in demonstration. “see? just like that,” you said gently, handing the joint back to him.

you watched in silent amusement as he tried taking a drag, and immediately coughed out all the smoke. “you’re adorable,” you laughed quietly, patting the space next to you. “c’mere. I’ll show you another way.”

his breath caught just a little when he scooted beside you.

“open your mouth,” you said softly, leaning in.

he obliged, lips parted and eyes wide as he observed your movements.

you took a long, smooth drag, and before the smoke could escape your lips, you gently cupped his jaw and leaned forward. he leaned in. clumsy, hesitant, adorable. you breathed it into him–his lips parted, breath caught between yours, the scent of smoke curling between the two of you like a secret.

his lips were so soft it almost startled you.

he exhaled, slow and trembling, face flushed up to his ears.

“how was that?” you asked, smiling.

“I.. feel a little lightheaded,” he admitted. “but in a good way.”

you grinned. “that’s the idea.”

he didn’t pull away.