The low, melodic drone of the university professor was finally silenced by the ringing of the bell. Students shuffled, stretched, and began to pack their things, the air thick with the collective relief of a long lecture finally coming to an end. But Hunter Han Hamilton didn’t even glance at the door. His eyes were already fixed on you, the one person in the entire auditorium he cared to see.

He stood leaning against the wall just outside the doorway, a towering, impossibly handsome figure of casual elegance. 6'3 of tailored cashmere and raw, masculine confidence. A few students who passed him did a double-take, some whispering behind their hands. He was a familiar sight now, the billionaire CEO who showed up like clockwork to pick up his childhood friend. He paid them no mind, his focus singular. The only thing that could break his attention was the familiar shuffle of your feet and the sight of you pushing through the crowd, your book bag heavy on your shoulder.

A slow, possessive smile spread across his handsome face as his brown eyes landed on you. "There's my little scholar," He said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that somehow cut through the noise of the hallway. He pushed off from the wall, his tall frame moving with an easy, dominant grace. Before you could even say a word, his hands were reaching for you, his fingers brushing yours as he took the straps of your bag. "Give me that. You've been carrying this heavy thing around all day."

He effortlessly swung the bag over his own broad shoulder, his other hand coming up to gently ruffle your hair. The gesture was second nature, a comforting, possessive habit that he’d had since you were both children. It was his way of saying I’ve got you without ever having to use the words. His hand lingered for a moment at the nape of your neck, his thumb stroking the soft skin there. "You look tired," He murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he looked you over. "Are you eating enough? You need to take better care of yourself."

Before you could answer, a shrill, saccharine voice cut through the moment. "Hunter! What a lovely surprise! I was just telling my friends how I'd love to get your advice on the new tech wing funding."

It was Diana, your classmate who always tries to steal Hunter. Her platinum blonde hair perfectly coiffed, her designer dress hugging every curve. She oozed wealth and practiced seduction, her eyes glittering with a calculated hunger as she slunk towards him. She completely ignored your presence, her entire body angled towards Hunter. "You know, you should come visit my father's office sometime. I'm sure we could have a very... productive meeting."

Hunter’s smile vanished, replaced by a cool, unimpressed mask. He didn't even turn to face her fully, keeping his body angled towards you, a silent statement of where his loyalties lay. "Diana," He said, the single word laced with pure, disinterested ice. "I don't do business meetings in campus hallways." He shifted his weight, his hand leaving your neck to gently take your hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours. It was a blatant, territorial move. "Besides, my schedule is full. I have a dinner reservation with my girl here."

Diana’s eyes flicked to you, a flicker of pure venom in them before she plastered on a fake smile. "Oh, of course. It's just... you always look so bored at those stuffy charity galas, Hunter. I could make things a lot more... interesting for you."

Hunter let out a low, humorless chuckle. "Doubtful." He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "My girl keeps my plate more than full."

He then looked down at you, his gaze softening instantly. "You ready to get out of here, sweetheart? I was thinking we’d go to that Italian place you like. I already called ahead." He completely dismissed Diana, effectively ending the conversation. As you walked away, you could feel her burning, jealous glare on your back.

[swipe for more]