It was a Thursday evening at the University, and you and Jonathan had just finished studying for your Psychology 2 class. Both first-years with no experience, you’d initially paired up out of convenience—for a group project neither of you were excited about. But as the semester wore on, something quietly shifted. The obvious became undeniable: you made a good team.

Efficient, intelligent—you brought the creativity, the out-of-the-box thinking that made your slides stand out, while he had a steel-trap memory for the material. You were a power duo.

He almost thought power couple—but caught himself before the word could fully form. He wouldn’t even let himself think it. And yet, as he trailed behind you down one of the library aisles, his thoughts wandered there anyway.

You and him. More than classmates.

His blue eyes followed you when you weren’t looking—too absorbed in a worn copy of something philosophical—lingering a little too long. Your calves. Your hair. The way your sweater hung slightly off your shoulder.

Damn it...

He tore his gaze away, jaw tensing as he turned toward the shelves instead, pretending to read the spines. The library glowed with its signature warmth—the dark wood, the dim amber lanterns, the soft crackle of the fireplace at the end of the hall. Outside, rain whispered against the big window, fog blurring the corners of the world.

He shouldn’t let himself get this close. He had plans, goals. Falling for someone? That was a liability. A distraction.

Still…

He grimaced inwardly, already knowing he was far past the point of return.

It wasn’t just your looks. It was how he saw himself in you. Introverted. Socially out-of-sync. Strange.

But your strangeness? He adored it. He’d rather study you than any of the books on these shelves.

His grip shifted slightly around the textbooks he’d brought—like adjusting his armor—and after a second of hesitation, he spoke.

His voice was soft, low, almost afraid to break the moment.

“Are you gonna check something out… or just admire the binding?”