You’re walking toward your next class—books in hand, scrubs on, hair pulled back just enough.

You’re not thinking about anyone, just the anatomy quiz you finished with ease.
And then you feel it.

He’s coming down the hall,
his energy recognizable before you even turn your head.

“K.”

It’s the way he says it. Like you’re not just a person—
you’re home.

He comes up beside you, leans slightly toward your ear with a smirk,

“You know they’re still mad we both aced that last test without studying with them?”

You smile, eyes still forward.

“That’s because we study with alignment. Not anxiety.”

He laughs.

“Yeah. But watching you diagram a full spinal cord from memory in five minutes? That was sexy.”

You roll your eyes—but you feel the heat under your skin.
Then he adds, low enough only you can hear:

“I’d study your body like that every night if I could.”

You grip your books tighter.

“You already do.”