Page 19 of Blake University: HBCU Chronicles – Yon & Imole

The sunlight creeping through the blinds painted soft stripes across the bed. The Mega Phi Psi house was unusually quiet for a Sunday morning, especially after a night like last night. Cups, bottles, and footsteps echoed faintly downstairs, but none of that mattered to .

Not with Imole sleeping beside him.

She was curled into his chest, her breath even and calm. Her curly bun had loosened sometime in the night, and a few tendrils framed her face. She looked peaceful, almost like the chaos of campus didn’t touch her here.

No, they didn’t have sex. Not because he didn’t want to—he absolutely did—but because it wasn’t time. It didn’t feel right to rush what was unfolding between them. Imole wasn’t like the other girls he’d been with. Most of those flings were just that—temporary, surface-level. He gave enough to keep the connection alive, but never more than necessary. Some he didn’t care about at all. Others he cared just enough not to get caught cheating.

But this? Her?

Different.

She wasn’t chasing his name, his jersey number, or the clout that came with being Dawson III. She wasn’t trying to fix him or flaunt him. She saw him. Just a dude struggling with chemistry and calculus. When she tutored him last year, it wasn’t like she had some plan to bag the star running back.

Back then, she was just cute in that quiet, quirky, nerdy way. Oversized sweatshirts, mismatched socks, never looking him in the eye too long. Her whole vibe was academia and low-key brilliance. He had written her off as out of his league in a different way—smart, reserved, way too focused to ever mess with someone like him.

But now?

He was seeing the rest of her. And he liked it. No—he wanted it.

He turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead, soft and slow.

How the hell did he miss this?

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached for it carefully, not wanting to wake her. A text from Ace lit up the screen:

Ace: Yo…

Lala and Stormii crashed in the house too. Porkchop knocked out on the couch.

And bruh… Shawna wilded TF out when you took shorty upstairs.

I’ll fill you in later.

rolled his eyes and tossed the phone back down. Shawna. He should’ve known she wouldn’t leave quietly. But whatever drama she tried to cause didn’t matter now.

Not with Imole sleeping right here, warm and soft in his arms like she belonged there.

He ran a hand gently down her back and pulled her in closer. The scent of her shea butter and something sweet clung to his hoodie she borrowed, and damn if it didn’t make him smile.

Imole was the fresh air he had been waiting for. With eyes wide open, he saw her; the shy, quirky, cute, confident and smart person she was.

And for the first time in a long time… he was ready to be seen, too.