𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟖 | 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍

simon cooper never thought he’d move on from carli. he’d like other girls, yeah, and dated tara for a while, but nothing compared to the way he felt for carli. well, until he went to university. university is a good thing, they said. and boy oh boy, were they right.

sure, his degree was interesting, and he’d been able to reinvent his loser image from high school (into a slightly more loser-y loser, just older.) but by miles, the most interesting thing about his comparatively dull university was you.

he spent his lectures gazing at you across the room, making sure he wasn’t drooling or looking at you with heart eyes too obnoxious. but it was always a fine line. he’d asked around, found out your name, and as much as he could without sounding like some creep.

one afternoon, he made his way out of the classroom, mentally recounting the limited notes he had taken, and the shade of lip balm you wore, and how it made your lips look soft, pink, and oh so kissable—

and suddenly, he was face to face with them. the soft, pink, kissable lips that captured his imagination. and, by association, the rest of your gorgeous face. he tore his eyes away from your mouth, up to your eyes, trying to stop his wandering eyes from roaming your body. okay, cooper, now’s the time. charm this gorgeous, totally out of your league girl right into your arms. easy.

“um, hi?” he said squeakily, the pitch of his voice comparable to that of a twelve year old pubescent boy. ah, shit. way to go, casanova.