The library was quiet, except for the occasional rustle of pages and the soft tap of my pencil. I tried to focus on my notes, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

Justin.

He was sitting across the aisle, leaning back in his chair, staring at me. Not in a weird way—more like… noticing. I looked down at my notebook, pretending I wasn’t aware, but I could feel the heat creeping up my neck.

Minutes passed. He didn’t look away. Instead, he pulled out a small sticky note and scribbled something, sliding it across the table to me when he thought no one was looking.

“You’re way too focused… I like that.”

I blinked, heart racing. I looked up, catching him smirking just slightly before he returned to pretending to read his textbook.

I couldn’t help but smile, writing back. “I like that you keep staring.”

When I looked up again, he grinned like he’d been waiting for this reply all day. And maybe he had.

The library felt smaller, warmer, and somehow, just ours.