growing up more on the sheltered side had led you to become rather… devious in college.

parties had become more of a past time than anything for you. and occasionally you got out of hand, drinking a bit to much.

though you swore the drink in hand had been an excuse to stare at the blonde haired guy you hadn’t seen at a party before.

grayson had rarely attended parties at harvard. everyone was drunk and loud and obnoxious.

he’d seen you, too. it was hard not to, when you’d been stumbling around, blackout drunk.

he’d taken you to his dorm (of course he had a solo dorm. he was not only famous but on the swim team.)

you’d woken up in the unfamiliar room, blinking away a headache. the bed was surprisingly comfortable, and when you sat up you saw him.

the same blonde haired guy from the night before lay in the corner of the room, on the floor, asleep. he was still in his crimson harvard hoodie and jeans, as though he hadn’t even bothered to change. he’d slept on the floor, in his party clothes to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable when you awoke.