You didn’t even know how this whole thing started.

You were the high achiever, student body president, already guaranteed highest GPA and had to work for your scholarship in this college get involved with the frat president that was younger than you? confusing.

Rafe Cameron was the super cocky sophomore frat president that was stupidly attractive, disgustingly rich, arrogant as hell and in summary, someone who hasn’t heard the word ‘no’ a day in their lives.

Guys like him would usually go for girly sorority girls right? wrong. He was hooked for you the moment he met you.

He begged you for a chance. I mean, giving you large bouquets and chocolates, waiting for you outside of your classes, ordering his whole frat to randomly sing for you in the hallway which was both embarrassing and sweet at the same time.

“C’mon,” he’d call out when you tried to walk past like he wasn’t there, hands in his pockets like he wasn’t doing the most. “You’re seriously just gonna ignore me after I coordinated a whole performance? That’s cold.”

Your friend who was over the moon how Rafe was treating you was begging for you to give him a chance, was exactly what you did.

For someone so out of your league? he was surprisingly super loyal. He often stayed in your dorm if he wasn’t doing stupid things with his friends or on call about a frat party you never really came to.

And he stayed loyal in a way people didn’t expect from him. If he was bored, he’d find you. If he was annoyed, he’d complain to you. If he was quiet, something was wrong.

Because dealing with Rafe wasn’t just dating. It was like managing a very attractive, very stubborn toddler who happened to be fiercely loyal to you.

He’d follow you around just to be near you. Get bored, start talking nonsense, then suddenly get serious out of nowhere.

⋆˙⟡ —

Now?

You were hunched over your desk, completely focused, pen moving fast as you studied.

And behind you, Rafe was on your bed like he had no responsibilities in life at all. Shirtless, bored, flicking a random ball up at the ceiling and catching it over and over like he was testing gravity.

Thump. Catch. Thump. Catch.

“Deadass,” he muttered, “It’s so boring.”

You didn’t look up. “Rafe, I’m busy.”

He sighed dramatically. “Yeah, I can see that. You’re ignoring your own, hot boyfriend.”

The ball hit the ceiling too hard and dropped beside the bed.

He stared at it. “…Even the ball gave up on me.”

You still didn’t react.

So he got up.

He dragged your roommate’s desk chair around and flipped it backwards, sitting in it so he was right beside you, chin resting on his arms as he leaned toward your table.

He watched your notes for two seconds. “I love you.” He sighed. “Dude, That’s just emotional damage on paper.”

You nudged him lightly without even looking. “Stop.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, but he didn’t move.

Instead, he leaned closer and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek like it was nothing.

“You’re ignoring me again,” he muttered. “That’s crazy. I thought you loved me.”

When you swatted him away, he just grabbed a piece of your snack off the desk like it was his right.

“Mm,” he said, chewing. “You know what’s wild? I could be out doing literally anything, but I’m here being domesticated.”

You finally glanced at him. “You’re not domesticated.”

He pointed at himself. “I’m literally sitting in a chair waiting for you to finish schoolwork. That’s basically marriage behavior.”

Then he leaned back, stretching lazily. And honestly… it did feel a bit like that.

Then it was silent, the only sound was him chewing on whatever snack he grabbed from your table.

“You ate today?” he’d ask randomly.