One year later
I pulled my hair over one shoulder, the strands now reaching down to my thighs. My books were stacked neatly beside my coffee. Same spot in the university library as always. Same drive. Just... a little more peace in my chest than I used to carry.
Second year law—tougher, but I was tougher too.
"Top of the class," Ava said, sliding into the seat across from me and poking my cheek. "Still no chill."
"You love that about me," I grinned, scribbling one last sentence in my notebook before closing it. "Besides, someone's gotta keep the bar high while you're busy staring at your boyfriend during class."
Ava rolled her eyes, smiling. "Austin's just...very distracting with those dimples, okay? He sends me notes now. Like paper ones. Who does that anymore?"
I was about to laugh when the library door creaked open. I didn't need to look up—I felt it.
The familiar shift in air. That lazy confidence. The way he always walked like the hallway belonged to him.
Theo Ashford.
Third-year political science now. Taller. More tattoos than last year, even. But no cigarette in sight—hadn't been for months. He still wore that silver lip ring, had the piercing along his brow and all down his ears, but the edge in his eyes was softer now. Less chaos, more quiet fire.
"Hey, sunshine," he said, tugging out the chair next to me without waiting for permission. His voice was deeper, rougher than before.
"You don't belong here," I said automatically, turning my face back to my book but not moving away when his arm slung around my shoulder like it had every right to.
"Neither do you," he muttered, smirking as he pulled a cookie out of his pocket and broke it in half, offering me the bigger piece. "Law library's too boring for someone with hair like that."
"I'm trying to be serious here."
"You've always been serious," he said quietly. "Even when you're smiling."
That... made my heart skip.
Across the room, I caught whispers. A few students were sneaking glances, some even recording.
"People are staring," I said under my breath.
"Let them," Theo replied, not even bothering to lower his voice. "They've had a year to get used to it."
"What is this anyway?" I murmured.
Theo leaned closer. His lips were practically against my ear.
"Whatever you want it to be."
I turned my head, slowly. He didn't move away.
And then—because Theo never missed a beat—he said with a smirk, "You still blush when I do that."
"I do not."
"You do."
We sat like that in silence. Not uncomfortable. Just... warm.
And somewhere, behind one of the bookshelves, a phone camera clicked. The photo would end up on the university's confession page later that night.
"Theo Ashford has a type and apparently it's sweet girls with impossible hair. Who knew?"
But for now, none of it mattered. Because the boy who used to smell like cigarettes now smelled like clean sweat, expensive cologne, and the quiet scent of someone who had finally figured out what he wanted—and wasn't letting it go.
And I wasn't running either.
---
Theo's POV
It's been a year since that tiny firecracker crashed into me on her first day.
Now she walks across campus like she owns the place—top of her law class, hair even longer than I remember, almost brushing her thighs. She's the kind of beautiful that sneaks up on you, unassuming and warm, but lingers in the back of your head like a lyric you can't stop humming.
And yeah, I've changed too. No more cigarettes. Meilin said it with so much worry once, eyes wide and voice soft—"Stop smoking like an idiot." And for some reason, I actually listened.
I spot her by the fountain outside the law building, nose deep in her notes, brows furrowed. She doesn't even look up when I sit next to her. So I lean closer. My arm drapes across her shoulder like it belongs there. It kinda does now.
"Still trying to get ahead of the syllabus, smart girl?"
She huffs, not looking up. "Some of us care about passing."
"I pass," I say, smirking. "By the skin of my tattooed teeth."
She finally looks at me, that sparkle in her eye already pulling me under. "Still cocky."
"Still into it," I shoot back.
Across the courtyard, Ava and Austin are laughing like idiots, Austin trying to steal a bite of her sandwich. They've been officially dating for months now, and it's disgusting how cute they are. Disgusting and a little contagious, if I'm being honest.
Meilin rolls her eyes, but she's smiling now. She doesn't lean away from me. She hasn't for a while.
Sometimes I wonder when the line blurred—when she stopped just being interesting and started being mine. Not officially. Not yet. But the way she looks at me sometimes, like she already knows every layer I've tried to hide under all the ink and steel, it's terrifyingly close to something real.
And hell if that doesn't scare me more than anything else.