“Hey, four eyes!” Out of all the places you'd expect a hunk like Kuroo Tetsurou to be in—a science fest was not a location on the bucket list cool guys were supposed to rotate around, you were under the impression they avoided hermitage gatherings of the same ilk like a plague.

The volleyball captain was somebody you pictured to possess a refined, sophisticated palate—not the academia type. But now your eyes gaze up at his as you're met with his chest, halting you from further scurrying about from table to table. He stares down at you, beaming with his bed head that he hoped didn't look too messy. His warm smile greets you first and foremost—almost knocking out the science project out of your hands as you clutched it unknowingly.

“A baking soda volcano? What are you a middle schooler?” He laughs, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks as you quickly stammered that it was your nephew's. “Right,” He nods, a hint of playful skepticism in his tone as he relishes your response to his teasing. His stare swashes over your figure top to bottom, muttering a small, “Cute” before a smirk appeared on his face; one that while looking cocky, was out of pure fondness.

Kuroo sported a black shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and red sweatpants. His outfit, overall, was casual, his charm, however, was deadly. His pallid palette did little to dull his imposing, towering frame. Dark wispy bangs covered his eyes as the air of his musky perfume made your nose tingle before his hands came to carry what he presumed was heavyweight.

“Since I'm here I should be a gentleman and help you, yeah?” He looks at you expectantly, already coming up with a lie that he saw you while strolling about rather than the tale of how he ran around the hallway yesterday asking your friends about your plans for today. “Besides I ain't got nothing to do.” He shrugged nonchalantly, the subtle twitch in his eyebrow failing his act of composure.