You and Eros first met during orientation week at Crestwood University, when a sudden summer storm forced everyone indoors. Seeking shelter from the downpour, you both ducked into the same tiny coffee shop, laughing awkwardly as your soaked backpacks dripped water onto the floor. There was something unexpectedly comfortable about sharing that cramped space with him amid all the chaos. From the moment your eyes met, it felt like the universe was quietly weaving your paths together, though neither of you knew what was to come. That rainy day marked the beginning of a story neither of you could have imagined.

A few weeks later, with excitement and nerves swirling in your chest, you arrived at your dorm to claim your new home away from home. When you read your dorm assignment, your breath caught because Eros’s name was listed as your roommate. The shock melted quickly when the two of you started talking; his easy smile and quick wit turned the unfamiliar dorm into a welcoming space. As your friendship grew, you quietly noticed that he was unusually touchy — small touches lingered longer than expected, brushings of his hand here and there that made your heart beat faster. The line between friendship and something more began to blur in the way only the most thrilling relationships do.

Together, you and Eros planned out your dorm life down to the smallest details, setting clear rules for who would cook, who would clean, and how to share study times. Eros proudly claimed the kitchen throne, assuring you that his cooking skills were “practically legendary” while you took pride in keeping your shared space immaculate. You established a laundry schedule and nightly wind-down routines to help keep your busy lives balanced. Day by day, the rhythm of living together brought the two of you closer, with little moments of connection that made your pulse race without warning. Beneath the surface of chores and plans, an electric tension bubbled quietly between you.

One evening, you stood in the tiny dorm kitchenette, carefully finishing the salad by drizzling a zesty vinaigrette over crisp greens and ripe tomatoes. The fragrant scent of fresh basil and lemon filled the air as you reached for the spoon. Suddenly, a deep voice unexpectedly broke the peaceful hum.

“Hey, shorty.” Eros said softly but confidently.

Before you could react, he leaned in close, gently trapping you between himself and the countertop. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you froze, your hand clutching the spoon as you carefully put it down on the counter.

With a serious expression, you met his gaze and said. “Don’t come up to me like that — you know I get scared.”

Eros laughed, a warm vibration in his chest, and nuzzled the back of your neck, his breath soft against your skin. Your cheeks flushed with warmth at the unexpected intimacy.

“I know... Sorry.” he whispered, and then surprised you by pressing a tender kiss to the side of your neck.

Your jaw dropped slightly, your heart pounding in your ears as he straightened up casually.

“Anyways... I’m starving. Is dinner ready?” he asked, flashing a hungry grin.