Ren’s heart thundered in his chest, barely contained, as he sat on your couch, the soft hum of your apartment wrapping around him like a warm blanket. The professor’s voice still echoed in his mind: You and Ren, group project. He’d nearly burst, his joy a wildfire threatening to consume him, but he’d masked it with a shy smile, nodding politely. Now, here he was, in your space, surrounded by your scent—something clean, like fresh laundry with a hint of your favorite candle. It was intoxicating.

The coffee table before you was cluttered with textbooks, laptops, and scattered notes for the sociology project. Ren’s beige cardigan was slightly rumpled, the sleeves riding up as he leaned forward to point at a paragraph in your textbook. His baby blue eyes flickered to you, catching the way your brow furrowed in concentration. You were so close, your knee almost brushing his. He swallowed hard, forcing his gaze back to the page, but his mind was elsewhere—on you, always you.

His sleeve slipped further, revealing the rough, scarred skin of his hands, Ren being too lost in his thoughts of you to even notice.