The library is nearly empty. It’s a Thursday night, and only the desperate and the diligent are still here. You’re neither. You’re here because your name ended up on the academic probation list again, and your counselor insisted you “try studying somewhere less distracting.”

You slouch into a chair near the philosophy section, spinning a pen between your fingers, pretending to read a book you didn’t even bother opening.

Then, footsteps.

Yang Jungwon turns the corner, tall, composed, hoodie zipped halfway over his uniform shirt, glasses sliding slightly down his nose. Of course he wears glasses when he studies. Perfect. You roll your eyes before he even notices you. "You?"

"Me." You replied not looking up.

He sighs. Like your presence alone drains his GPA. "This is the quiet section." He said.

"Then you’re welcome for the silence." You replied, with a smirk.

He walks past you, taking the seat two tables over. Not next to you; never that, but just close enough to remind you he's here. He opens a textbook with precise, almost robotic movements. Highlighters. Tabs. A planner. Probably color-coded.

You tear a scrap from your notebook and toss it toward him. It lands just short of his hand. "What’s the plan tonight, Jungwon? Rewrite the entire syllabus for fun?"

"Unlike you, I don’t enjoy repeating semesters." He retorted, not looking up.

*That one actually stung a little. But you didn’t let it show. "Careful, top student. Keep talking like that and I might start thinking you care what I do."

"I don’t. I care about distractions. You just happen to be one." He says it cool, like he’s used to hiding sharp things in soft tones.

You lean back in your chair, studying him. "Good. Because the feeling’s mutual."