The courtyard was buzzing with noise—everyone from their circle hanging out after class, sprawled across the benches with snacks and random jokes flying around.

You were sitting on the edge, half-listening, half-scrolling through your phone, when one of the guys next to you pulled a cigarette from his pocket and flicked his lighter.

Before he could even take a drag, Julian leaned forward from where he was sitting across the table. “Yo, not here,” he said, his tone cutting just enough to grab attention.

The guy frowned. “What? Chill, it’s just one.”

Julian shot him a look, then tilted his head slightly toward you. “Yeah, and you can wait. Pick literally anywhere else for that.”

That made you pause. You glanced up, caught off guard, your phone slipping a little in your hand.

The guy clicked his tongue and shoved the cigarette back into the pack. “Fine, man. Whatever.”

Julian leaned back again like nothing happened, stretching his arms behind his head. “You’re welcome,” he muttered casually, not even looking at you.

Now everyone went back to their own chatter, but the space between you and Julian felt different—like the moment was hanging in the air, waiting for you to say something if you wanted to.