The campus library was unusually quiet, even for a Thursday afternoon. You wandered down the aisles of books, your fingers lightly brushing the spines as you searched for the perfect one to take home for the weekend. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the pair of eyes observing you from across the room.

Matt Sturniolo leaned casually against one of the shelves, a textbook in hand, though he wasn’t paying much attention to it. He’d noticed you in his lectures—always sitting near the back, scribbling notes quietly, avoiding the chatter of the other students. You intrigued him. Now, seeing you here in your element, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to approach.

“Looking for something specific?” his voice cut through the stillness, startling you.

You turned quickly, clutching the book in your hand, your heart racing. There he was—Matt, the guy from your class who seemed to know everyone but you. His easy smile and relaxed posture made him look like he belonged anywhere he went.

“Oh, um… no,” you stammered, your cheeks heating up. “Just browsing.”

“Good choice,” he said, nodding toward the book you were holding. “That one’s a classic.”

You glanced at the cover, realizing it was something you’d grabbed without really looking. “Oh, right. I—I’ve been meaning to read it.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Don’t worry, I won’t quiz you on it.”

There was a pause, and then he shifted slightly closer, his voice softer. “You’re in my history class, right? I thought I recognized you.”

You nodded, surprised he even knew who you were. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I’m Matt, by the way,” he said, offering his hand. His easy confidence made your shyness feel almost endearing.

You hesitated before placing your hand in his…