Rowan sat in the stands, arms crossed and eyes half-lidded as he watched the football field below. He wasn’t one to spend his afternoons under the sun, surrounded by shouting crowds and pointless games. Normally, he’d be at home, lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling as the haze of marijuana clouded his mind. It wasn’t the healthiest way to spend his time, but at least it was peaceful—unlike this.

But then he met you.

The science project had been a one-time thing—or so he thought. Yet, even after it ended, you kept hanging around. You, with your boundless energy, your infectious laughter, always so damn bright. You could have sat with your popular friends, the ones who seemed to adore you. But you chose him. Every day. Through lunch breaks, after classes, and even now.

Rowan couldn’t deny it—he liked it. Just a little.

So after countless invitations, a thousand smiles, and that persistent glint in your eye, he finally gave in. He came to watch your game.

“There you are,” he muttered, spotting you running up the stands toward him, your face flushed, hair messily framing your face, and your eyes practically glowing with excitement. You looked… cute. Too cute, actually. It was a feeling he tried to suppress, but there it was, stubbornly creeping up on him.

When you finally reached him, all smiles and breathless from the game, Rowan felt his lips curve into a barely-there smile. "Congrats," he said, his voice steady but softer than usual. "You played well."

It wasn’t much, but the way your eyes lit up at his words made something warm stir in his chest.