The morning began like any other, but for Amara, there was a restless energy beneath the surface. She brushed her hair in front of the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with a faint, distracted smile. Emily was still asleep, tangled in her sheets, the faint sound of her breathing steady. Amara tiptoed around the dorm room, gathering her things for the day, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
Adrian.
She hadn't been able to forget the way he had silently handed her his hoodie the night before, or how he'd stood in the rain with her, wordless but steady, when thunder had shaken her to her core. The hoodie still sat folded neatly on the chair by her desk, carrying a faint trace of his cologne, that understated, clean scent she couldn't quite place but recognized instantly.
Her hand brushed over it. She hesitated. Should she return it to him after class? Should she wait until he asked for it? Or her heart thudded at the thought maybe she could text him.
It took her nearly twenty minutes to work up the courage. She drafted the message twice, deleted it, then finally typed something simple:
"Hey… I still have your hoodie. Should I bring it to class today, or do you want me to return it another time?"
She stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over send.
At the last second, she added another line.
"Also, I was wondering if you'd want to grab lunch with me later. My treat...as a thank you for the other night."
The moment she hit send, she wanted to bury her face in a pillow. What if he thought she was being too forward? What if he said no?
She slipped the phone into her bag, telling herself she wouldn't check it obsessively. But within five minutes, the soft vibration of a reply made her heart skip. She pulled the phone out quickly, pretending it was casual.
Adrian's message was short, to the point:
"Lunch is fine. I'll meet you at the café near the science building. 12:30."
Amara's lips curved into a grin she couldn't hold back. Simple as it was, it was a yes.
By the time lunch rolled around, she was practically floating. She'd chosen one of her favorite dresses that morning...a soft pastel one with small floral prints. It wasn't flashy, but it made her feel good, a little more confident than usual.
When she entered the café, she spotted him almost instantly. Adrian was already there, sitting near the window with his usual calm posture. He wasn't scrolling through his phone or fidgeting; he just sat there, waiting. Somehow, that made her even more nervous.
"Hey," she greeted, sliding into the seat across from him.
He looked up, and for the briefest moment, his gaze lingered on her before he nodded. "Hey."
They ordered quickly, then settled into small talk. At first, it was awkward...comments about the class project, how exhausting the professor's lecture had been, the sudden storm the night before. But as minutes passed, Amara found herself laughing softly, surprised at how easy it felt, even with his tendency toward short answers. He wasn't verbose, but he listened, really listened, and occasionally responded with dry, unexpected humor that caught her off guard.
It was during one of those quiet, comfortable pauses that it happened.
A group of guys walked past their table, arms full of drinks and trays. One of them wasn't watching where he was going, and in a careless turn, his cup tilted. A cold splash spilled across Amara's table, splattering onto her lap and staining her dress.
She gasped, standing up quickly, her cheeks burning. The pale fabric of her dress now carried an unmistakable blotch.
"Oh, crap!...sorry!" one of the guys stammered, grabbing napkins. His friends chuckled awkwardly, offering apologies before hurrying away.
Amara dabbed at the stain, her embarrassment climbing higher by the second. "Perfect," she muttered under her breath.
Before she could say anything else, Adrian had already pulled off his hoodie...the very same one she'd worn the night before. He held it out to her, his expression unreadable but firm.
"Here," he said simply.
Amara blinked, staring at the hoodie, then at him. "Adrian, I...."
"Just take it."
Something in his tone left no room for argument. Grateful and flustered, she slipped it on. The oversized fit nearly swallowed her, the sleeves hanging past her hands, but it covered the stain perfectly.
When she sat down again, cheeks warm, she tried to lighten the mood. "At this rate, people are going to think I steal your clothes on purpose."
A small huff of laughter escaped him, brief but real. "Maybe you do."
She looked at him, surprised by the joke, and then couldn't help laughing. The tension eased, replaced by something gentler, something warmer.
Adrian's POV
He hadn't thought much of it when he agreed to lunch. A simple meal, a thank-you, nothing more. But watching her now, in that floral dress that suited her in ways she probably didn't even realize, he was unsettled by how often his gaze drifted back to her.
When the drink spilled, he'd acted before he'd even thought about it. Seeing her flustered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment....it had pulled something in him, an instinct to fix it, shield her, even in something as small as this. Handing her his hoodie had felt natural.
But then she'd slipped it on, and he'd made the mistake of looking too long.
The way the fabric dwarfed her, how her hands disappeared inside the sleeves, how the color contrasted against her hair...it shouldn't have mattered. It was just a hoodie. Just an accident. But when she sat, her dress no longer visible beneath the oversized fabric, he found himself thinking a dangerous thought.
She looks… cute.
The word echoed in his mind, one he rarely applied to anyone, let alone her. He forced himself to look away, focusing instead on the condensation sliding down his glass of water. He told himself it was nothing. Just observation. Just coincidence.
And yet, when she sat back down, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face, her lips curving into that small smile...he wasn't as certain anymore.
Back at the table, Amara's laughter lingered in the air, soft but infectious. Adrian responded with a faint smile of his own, though he didn't let it linger long.
They finished their meal without further incident, but the shift between them was subtle, undeniable. It was in the way she tugged at the oversized sleeves of his hoodie, in the way his gaze returned to her more often than he'd like.
When they stood to leave, Adrian adjusted his bag over his shoulder, nodding once. "Thanks for lunch."
"Anytime," Amara replied, her smile lingering. She hesitated, then tugged on the hoodie's sleeve playfully. "I'll… wash this before I return it. Unless you've decided I actually do steal your clothes."
For a moment, he almost said something.....something he couldn't quite define. Instead, he shook his head faintly, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Just don't ruin it."
She laughed again, and somehow, that sound followed him long after they stepped out of the café.