Vivienne
6:03 AM.
Torture disguised as a law lecture.
My eyelids weighed three kilos each, and the only thing holding me upright was the iced vanilla latte I bribed the campus barista to make at dawn. My notes were chaos, my hair was a waterfall down my back, and I was fighting for my life every time the professor said "precedent."
Sleep? Never heard of her.
The girl next to me was fully dozing. I envied her. I'd already scribbled the same sentence three times and still didn't know what it meant.
And then—the door creaked open.
Not unusual.
It was a massive lecture hall. People trickled in all the time.
But my heart stopped.
Because standing in the doorway—tall, all black hoodie and messy morning hair, expression like he couldn't care less—
Was Damien Ashford.
In my class.
My 6:00 AM law class.
"What the hell…"
I blinked.
He made eye contact with me. Didn't smile. Just tilted his head slightly and started walking toward the back. Every pair of eyes shifted to him. Every girl straightened in her seat.
Even the professor paused mid-sentence.
And me?
I froze. Pen in hand. Mid-word.
What. Is. He. Doing. Here?
He's never come to my class. Never. He always said my schedule was insane. That 6 AM was "inhuman." He barely even woke up when I left this morning. He just groaned, turned in bed, and buried his face in the pillow.
So why was he—
He sat behind me.
What.
No, like—what.
I didn't look back. I couldn't. My ears were burning. My hands felt clumsy.
Was he actually here?
I peeked at my phone under the desk.
Me: what are you doing hereMe: damienMe: answer me before i combust
Nothing.
I heard the slight thud of a chair as he settled in, and the unmistakable rustle of his hoodie sleeve brushing his notebook.
My heart was racing.
I wanted to turn around so bad. Ask if he got lost. Ask if he needed a map to the MED BUILDING and not my law lecture.
But I didn't.
Because I already knew.
This wasn't random.
He came here for me.
And even though I was mad, still sore from yesterday, still pretending I was fine—
My lips tugged up.
God, I hated how easily he made my day.
---
The second the professor dismissed us, the girl next to me yawned loud enough to wake a graveyard and bolted for the exit like caffeine was oxygen. I, on the other hand, just… sat there.
Pretending I was still writing something down.
Pretending I wasn't completely losing it inside.
He didn't move either.
He stayed seated behind me, casually scrolling on his phone like he always sits through torturously early law lectures like it's the easiest thing in the world.
Eventually, I couldn't take it.
I turned around slowly, heart in my throat—and there he was.
Leaning back in his chair, legs stretched out like he owned the universe. Hoodie still on. Hair messy from sleep. Face expressionless… except for the very subtle raise of one brow when he saw me looking.
"You're not pre-law," I said, voice dry.
"Nope," he said, and stood up like he had all the time in the world.
"Then why—"
He pulled something from behind his back and held it out.
A takeaway cup.
"Vanilla oat latte," he said like it wasn't the most criminally romantic thing anyone had ever done for me.
My mouth parted slightly. I blinked at him. "You brought me coffee?"
"You left before the machine warmed up," he shrugged. "Didn't want you drinking that vending machine crap."
I stared at him.
This man.
"Are you trying to confuse me?" I asked. "Because it's working."
"Drink the coffee, V," he said, brushing past me. "You look seconds away from biting someone."
"Maybe I should bite you."
He glanced back over his shoulder, smirked faintly. "You already do."
OH. MY. GOD.
I nearly choked on air. My cheeks were flaming. He didn't even look phased. Just walked out of the lecture hall, hoodie and swagger and silence.
I stood there like an idiot, clutching the warm cup.
Still mad.
Still clingy.
Still in love.
And now — caffeinated.