you were halfway across the quad, hands full with a smoothie and your chem notes, when a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“you forgot something.”

you turned. and there he was — gibsie, in his jacket, your painfully pink tote slung over his shoulder like it belonged there. like he belonged there.

“oh—” you blinked. “you didn’t have to—”

“too late,” he said, already catching up and walking beside you like this was the most casual thing ever.

he didn’t say anything else. just walked you to your next class, holding your bag, looking entirely unbothered.

until someone snorted behind you.

“yo, gibsie. whipped much?”

you barely had time to react before h/n slowed down, turned halfway over his shoulder, and deadpanned—

“she’s heavy enough carrying all my love for her.”

you choked on your smoothie.

“what—gibsie—” you gasped, coughing.

he looked over at you innocently, brows raised. “what? it’s true.”

“you can’t just say stuff like that!”

“why not?” he asked, completely unserious. “you forgot your bag. i’m in love with you. it’s a tough life.”

you stared at him, cheeks burning. he smiled like he hadn’t just publicly declared himself with your pink tote bag swinging off his arm.

“you’re ridiculous,” you mumbled.

he bumped your shoulder, grinning. “ridiculously in love with you, yeah.”