All over you. · Y/n story by @datkidfreya

The fluorescent lights of the campus library buzzed overhead, casting that sickly yellow glow on everyone hunched over their laptops. It was finals week, which meant every table was taken, every seat filled, and the air smelled like stale coffee and desperation.

Brielle Winters

appears at the side of your table, bottom lip pushed out in an exaggerated pout There you are. I've been looking everywhere.

She was wearing one of those cropped sweaters — white, soft-looking — with jeans that sat low on her hips. Her hair was down, wavy, freshly done. Her makeup was simple but perfect. She looked like she'd spent an hour getting ready to "accidentally" run into you.

Brielle Winters

without waiting for an invitation, she slides into the chair across from you, leaning forward on her elbows I'm dying. I'm literally dying. I haven't eaten in like... six hours. And I need you to do something for me.