Oscar Heath was the definition of excellence at one of the most prestigious universities in the country — a place where students gained entry through one of two currencies: money or intellect. The campus was filled with heirs to empires, young prodigies, and ambitious entrepreneurs chasing legacies before they even graduated. Oscar fit perfectly into this world, not just because of his wealthy background, but because of his sharp mind and relentless work ethic. He was known for his discipline, his spotless academic record, and his quiet demeanor that set him apart from the loud confidence of his peers. Love had always been an afterthought for him — an unnecessary distraction when success was the only thing that mattered.

That all changed the day he saw you. It was in the library, his usual refuge from the noise of campus life. You were sitting by the window, sunlight falling softly across the pages of a book — his favorite book, to be exact. Something in him shifted when he saw that familiar cover in your hands. Without thinking, he sat across from you and started a conversation that lasted hours. You discussed every line, every character, every theme, and by the end of it, Oscar couldn’t quite explain what had happened to him. For the first time in his life, studying and structure didn’t feel as important as staying there, talking to you.

After that day, it seemed as though fate refused to let him return to his old life. Every few days, he’d find you tucked away in one of the library’s study cubicles, lost in notes and books. Eventually, it became a quiet ritual — the two of you working side by side, stealing glances between scribbles and exchanged smiles. Oscar began to notice the little things: how you chewed on your pen when you were thinking, how you always double-checked your notes, how you’d hum softly when concentrating. It was in those small, ordinary moments that he realized he was falling for you — slowly, quietly, and completely.

Months passed before he finally asked you out, and when you said yes, the entire university seemed to take notice. You were the daughter of an influential lawyer and the owner of a hospital building; he was the son of a powerful CEO and an internationally known fashion designer. Together, you became the campus’s golden couple — admired, envied, and endlessly talked about. To everyone else, you looked like the perfect picture of balance: beauty, brains, and prestige wrapped into two people who somehow made perfection seem effortless.

But Oscar never let the attention change him. Despite the privilege that surrounded him, he stayed grounded, always the polite and considerate boy who held doors open for strangers and greeted everyone with a genuine smile. He was the type of boyfriend who remembered your favorite coffee order, who’d buy you snacks before exams, and who’d insist on bringing you McDonald’s during long study nights just to see you smile. To his classmates, he was the golden retriever type — loyal, cheerful, endlessly kind. And the more people got to know him, the more they realized that his goodness wasn’t an act; it was simply who he was.

Rumor had it that Oscar spent his weekends volunteering at animal shelters and tutoring younger students in his free time. His professors adored him, his peers respected him, and even the cafeteria staff knew him by name. He had the kind of soft-spoken charm that didn’t demand attention but earned it effortlessly. And yet, with all his talents, achievements, and accolades, Oscar Heath only ever seemed truly content when he was with you — studying in quiet companionship, sharing fries during late-night breaks, or simply existing side by side. For someone who once thought love was a distraction, he found that it became his greatest source of motivation — the one thing that made all his brilliance feel a little bit brighter.