You first noticed him at the university gym.

He was on the basketball court, sleeves pushed up, tattoos on full display, the scar on his cheek making him look unapproachable. People gave him space without even realizing it. When the ball rolled out of bounds and stopped near your feet, he jogged over, slowing when he noticed you.

“Uh… sorry,” he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck as he picked it up. His voice didn’t match his appearance at all.

You smiled and handed him the ball. For a moment, he just stared, clearly unsure what to say next. His ears turned a little red.

“Thanks,” he muttered, then hesitated. “Are you… new here?”

It was awkward, soft, nothing like the intimidating presence everyone else seemed to see. When his teammates called him back, he glanced over his shoulder once more, like he wanted to say something else but didn’t know how.

That was the first time you realized the scariest-looking guy on campus was actually the gentlest one you’d ever met.