Page 8

DANIEL

Going to a lecture on only two hours of sleep is torture, especially for a subject you don’t like. I had decided not to attend any business management lectures, but here I am, going just to see a certain brown-eyed, black-haired girl who seems to have me wrapped around her pretty fingers.

I grumble to myself as I walk across campus, my thoughts drifting back to last night. I ended up watching the movie she mentioned. I don’t even know why—maybe her excitement got to me. The movie was fine, and the actor? Yeah, I get why she’s obsessed. But the thing that stuck with me wasn’t the movie—it was her.

That’s the problem. She’s on my mind too much, and it’s messing with my head. I don’t do this—watching recommended movies, attending boring lectures just to see someone, or thinking about how her laugh sounded long after she’s gone.

It’s not like me, and it’s not supposed to be.

As I approach the classroom, I spot her sitting in the second row, her head bent down as she scribbles something in her notebook. She’s dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, yet she manages to look effortlessly beautiful.

I take a deep breath and walk over to her, taking the seat next to her. She looks up, her brown eyes meeting mine, and I feel a familiar flutter in my chest.

“Morning,” I murmur, my eyes lingering on her face for a moment before I turn away to take out my notebook and pen.

“Hmm,” is all she says. What the-? I cock an eyebrow at her.

“I haven’t had coffee. Don’t mess with me right now,” she says grumpily.

I chuckle softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “You’re obsessed with coffee, aren’t you?” I comment. “Do you even drink something else?” I ask, genuinely eager to know.

“Water,” she says. “Occasionally though.” She glares.

I raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips. “You mean to tell me you run on coffee alone? You must be one walking caffeine addict,” I tease, watching her every movement intently.

She rolls her eyes at my comment and replies, “What can I say? Coffee is the fuel of creativity. It’s the elixir of life for people like me.” She grins slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And the caffeine addiction is just a small price to pay.”

I laugh, unable to help myself from finding her cheeky humor endearing. “Elixir of life, huh?” I echo, my smirk still in place. “I think you might have a case of caffeine insanity,” I tease, enjoying the way her eyes narrow at me.

She lets out a scoff, her eyes sparkling with mock indignation. “Caffeine insanity? I prefer to call it caffeine enlightenment,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. My smile widens.

“I’ll buy you coffee after class,” I announced. Her jaw drops open, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Why–why would you do that?” She stutters, her voice laced with disbelief. Well, the real reason would be that I love seeing her reaction when she takes the first sip of her coffee, but I am definitely not saying that out loud .

I roll my eyes, pretending to be exasperated. “Because I’m a generous soul,” I tease, a playful smirk on my lips. “And I don’t want you to end up in jail because you’re caffeine deprived.” I watch as her surprise turns into a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. “Relax, firecracker. It’s just coffee.”

She looks at me skeptically, her eyes narrowing. “Just coffee, huh? And what do you get out of all this generosity?” She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me, clearly not convinced.

I chuckle, enjoying the sight of her stubbornness. “What? I can’t buy you a coffee?” I reply, feigning innocence. “Plus, I am doing this for the greater good of society. It will be added as a good deed of the day since I am saving everyone. You’re a menace when you’re angry.” I wink at her. “Experienced firsthand. If we weren’t in public space, you would have definitely killed me.” I chuckle. She swats my arm, but a small smile forms on her face, which makes my heart swell with pride that I am the reason behind it.

Her attention shifts as the professor starts the lecture, but I barely pay any attention to it. My focus is solely on the girl beside me, the sound of her soft breathing and the light scratching of her pen consuming my senses. I can’t help but sneak glances at her every now and then, taking in the way her brows furrow in concentration and the way her lips purse as she listens. The faint hum of the projector fills the room as sunlight streams through the blinds, casting stripes across her notebook.

She tears a page from her notebook. I look at her in surprise as she scribbles something on it and passes it to me.

STOP STARING!

My smile widens as I read the small note. I look at her, only to find her shooting daggers at me with her glare. I suppress a chuckle, taking out my pen and scribbling a response.

Can’t help it. You’re more interesting than the lecture.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes at my comment, but I don’t miss the way the corners of her mouth twitch up ever so slightly. She glances at the professor, seemingly refocusing her attention on the lecture.

Yet, within minutes, her gaze drifts toward me again, only to find me watching her with an amused expression. She quickly averts her eyes, a hint of pink spreading across her cheeks.

She glances in my direction again, and this time I wink at her, making her cheeks flush with a deeper shade of pink. She scowls at my gesture, but there’s a hint of a smile in her eyes. Despite her attempts to ignore me, she can’t seem to keep her gaze off me, and that makes me incredibly giddy. She passes me a note again.

What do you want?

For someone who claims to be studious, you’re definitely not studying.

I scribble and pass the note to her. She quickly grabs it from me, scowling at me before reading it. Her eyes widen, and she looks at me, her face flushed. Oh, this is going to be fun. She takes the paper and furiously writes on it. I can feel the feistiness radiating off of her.

First of all, I am multitasking. Studying and secretly rolling my eyes at you. It’s a talent. And secondly, if you’re such a model student, why don’t you pay attention and let others do the same?

I smirk as I read her response. She’s fiery, and I find it utterly amusing. I quickly scrawl back, my hand movements swift and confident.

Firstly, your eye-rolling skills definitely need some work. And secondly, I am paying attention, just not on the lecture.

She wrinkles her nose in annoyance, her eyes narrowing as she reads my reply. I can practically see the steam coming out of her ears. After a moment, she snatches the pen from me and begins to write.

As she writes her response, I can’t help but lean in a little closer, my eyes glued to her every move. Finally, she passes the note back to me. I take it, my heart racing with anticipation.

Oh, really? And what exactly are you paying attention to, if not the lecture? Enlighten me, please.

I look at her sassy reply and let out a small laugh.

You, obviously. I’m studying the art of secretly pissing you off. Have I passed?

She rolls her eyes, but her cheeks redden.

Definitely. With an A grade. I’m kind of jealous of all the people who haven’t met you.

She may act like she’s annoyed, but I know deep down she’s enjoying our banter. The way she blushes and her eyes sparkle with hidden amusement doesn’t escape my notice. I gasp slowly.

I am hurt.

I write back. I feign hurt, her face falls, and she writes something hastily.

I am sorry. I meant it as a joke. I am glad we met.

My heart pounds. I look back at her. She holds an expectant smile. Her eyes search mine, silently asking for reassurance. I can’t help but revel in the effect I have on her and the way she quickly tries to comfort me with a hopeful smile.

Oh, I know you were joking. I was just pulling your leg.

I look up at her, a playful smile playing on my lips. She narrows her eyes at me, but I can tell she’s suppressing her amusement. She playfully rolls her eyes.

Please act your age.

I raise an eyebrow, my smirk growing wider.

I don’t know how to act my age. I scribble in response, my handwriting getting more and more carefree as our banter continues. You see, I’ve only been this age once.

I see her lips twitch, her efforts to suppress her smile failing. She folds the paper, keeping it inside her book. She glares at me and mouths, “Let me study.”

I feign an innocent expression, raising my hands in mock surrender. I suppose this lecture isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. My father would feel victorious, but who cares if I can spend some time with Anya? I glance at her, a half-smile still playing at her lips as she takes her notes, making me smile in return. I think I like being in her company more than I care to admit.