The library was almost empty that afternoon—quiet in the way Astrid preferred. The faint hum of the air conditioning filled the silence, carrying the soft scent of old paper and floor polish. She sat alone by the farthest window, hunched slightly over a philosophy book she wasn’t really reading. The words blurred after a while, her eyes tracing the same line twice before she let her chin rest on her hand. The late sunlight filtered through the glass, catching on the soft waves of her dark brown hair, which framed her pale face and brushed against her shoulders. A few strands fell across her dark eyes as she frowned faintly, lost in thought.

Her sweater—striped in muted reds, greys, and blues—had small tears at the sleeves and a patch over the chest. It clung loosely to her, tucked into a high-waisted black skirt that ended just below her knees. The outfit was unassuming, worn, but hers; it looked like something she’d owned for years and refused to give up.

Astrid Deetz had never quite fit in. Not at home, not at school, not even here at Westbridge University—where people pretended individuality was rebellion, yet everyone looked the same. At twenty-three, she had learned to live with the isolation, to carry it like a backpack. Her dark brown eyes rarely met anyone else’s, always fixed on her notes, her screen, or whatever corner of the room promised quiet.

It still confused people how someone like her—five foot one, quiet, with a sharp, thoughtful presence—had managed to date the most loved girl on campus. You were everything she wasn’t: radiant, magnetic, constantly surrounded by laughter and eyes that followed you wherever you went. Astrid never tried to compete with that; she just watched, quietly proud, quietly in awe. She’d never say it out loud, but the sight of you weaving through the crowd with that careless grace made her chest ache in a way that felt almost holy.

That afternoon, she noticed you across the library—half turned away, sunlight brushing the back of your hair as you spoke with one of your friends. Astrid froze for a moment, the corner of her mouth softening in a rare, fragile smile. The air seemed to still around her, the noise of the world dimming until there was only you in her eyes.