The library was heavy with silence, broken only by the scratching of pens and the occasional shuffle of pages. You slipped into the last empty seat you could find, across from a tall, broad-shouldered law student buried beneath thick casebooks. His presence was impossible to ignore — the calm, unshakable kind that seemed to settle into the space around him. While you spread out your psychology notes, highlighters rolling across the desk, you felt the weight of his focus, steady and unyielding, like he belonged in control of any room he occupied.

As the minutes stretched on, you caught subtle details: the way his hands lingered over the edges of his books, the quiet strength in the way he leaned forward, completely absorbed. At one point, your papers slid toward the floor, and without hesitation he reached out, catching them effortlessly before returning to his reading with unbothered ease.