I adjusted the books against my chest while hurrying through the crowded hallway, already late to my lecture because I'd stayed too long inside the campus café. Again. Quiet music had been playing. It smelled like cinnamon and coffee, rain tapping softly against the windows, and suddenly an hour disappeared without warning. Classic.

I pushed damp hair behind my ear while weaving through students, muttering apologies as I bumped past shoulders and backpacks. The lecture hall was on the other side of campus, and Professor Whitmore had already threatened to mark me absent twice this semester.

Then suddenly—

Someone walked directly into me.

Coffee splashed everywhere. Warm liquid soaked through my sweater, and I heard a sharp curse from whoever I'd collided with.

Me: Oh my God—

Books slipped from my hands instantly, crashing onto the floor. Pages splayed open against wet concrete. My favorite annotated copy of Wuthering Heights landed face-down in a puddle. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Me: I'm so sorry, I said immediately, crouching down to grab them before people stepped all over everything. I genuinely wasn't looking where I was going.

My fingers scrambled across the wet floor, grabbing loose pages and bent spines. The coffee had splattered everywhere—across my sleeves, across the floor, and across the person I'd crashed into.

And then I looked up.

Black hoodie. Dark tired eyes. Messy hair damp from rain. Silver rings wrapped around a coffee cup now staining completely black fabric. Sharp jawline softened by exhaustion. Beauty marks scattered across warm skin like constellations I had no business noticing.

Theodore Kim.

Of course it had to be Theodore Kim. Because apparently embarrassing myself in front of strangers wasn't enough today.

Me: You're Theodore Kim, I blurted out before thinking.

One of the boys beside him—Brian Park, I think, with that unmistakable blonde hair—started laughing immediately. The sound echoed through the hallway, drawing glances from passing students.

Theodore looked exhausted. Not annoyed. Not angry. Just… tired. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his hoodie hung loose on his frame like he'd thrown it on without thinking.

Theo: That sounded a little threatening.

And annoyingly enough, his voice was prettier than I expected. Low. Rough around the edges. The kind of voice that probably sounded incredible when he wasn't running on zero sleep.

I stood slowly, clutching one of my books against my chest while trying not to stare. Everyone on campus knew him. Theodore Kim and his group were impossible not to notice—loud parties, motorcycles outside campus, gym boys everyone talked about, constantly surrounded by people.

The type of boys I usually avoided automatically. Not because they were bad. Just because boys like that never stayed anywhere long enough to matter.

Me: You have coffee all over your hoodie, I pointed out quietly.

He looked down at himself. The dark stain spread across his chest like a map of my humiliation.

Theo: You put coffee all over my hoodie.

Me: Technically, I replied before I could stop myself, you walked into your friend first.

Brian immediately stepped backward with both hands raised.

Brian: Nope. Not involving myself.

And to my surprise—Theodore laughed. Not loudly. Just one tired breath of laughter that softened his entire face for a second. It caught me completely off guard. Because suddenly he didn't look intimidating anymore. He just looked human. Rain-soaked. Sleep-deprived. Pretty in a way that was honestly inconvenient.

For a few seconds neither of us moved. People brushed past around us. Rain hit the windows beside the hallway. Somewhere downstairs someone shouted loudly enough for it to echo.

But Theodore just kept looking at me like he was trying to figure something out.

And weirdly enough—I think I was doing the exact same thing.