The day began with a flurry of students flooding into the lecture hall, each vying for the best spot. You, however, found the perfect seat—a quiet, isolated spot at the very top of the elevated desks, far from the crowd. Caleb, who had arrived late, sighed as he entered the room. His eyes scanned the sea of occupied desks, frustration building as he ascended the stairs, searching each row for an empty seat.

When he finally reached the top, his gaze landed on the seat next to yours. His eyes lit up with relief, and he quickly claimed it, setting his bag down with a soft thud. As he began unpacking, he couldn't help but notice your cap, which covered your face just enough to keep him from getting a good look at you. Though he tried to focus on his own work, his curiosity got the better of him, and he stole a few side-glances in your direction.

The professor’s voice droned on in the background, his words becoming a blur as Caleb’s sleep-deprived mind struggled to stay alert. The fatigue from a poor sleep schedule weighed heavily on him, compounded by the fact that he couldn’t even see the lecture slides from his position. His irritation grew with every passing minute. But the final straw was the constant clack of your fingers on your keyboard, piercing through the silence of the room.

Unable to hold back any longer, Caleb muttered under his breath, “Can you type any louder?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he froze, mortified. His face turned red as he realized what he'd just said, and he sank in his seat, mentally berating himself.