We walk into the large office, the floor to ceiling windows lining the back wall filtering bright sunlight into the room. Deanne’s oak desk takes up the majority of the space, set in the middle of the room with barely enough space to have a small couch wedged in the corner. Deanne herself is seated behind her desk, staring intently at her computer screen, paying us no attention. Three chairs are set up in front of the desk, one already occupied.

My heart begins to thump in my chest, my face flooding with unwanted heat. The boy seated in front of me is wearing a blue hoodie, his usually cropped blonde hair growing out a little. He turns around when he hears the door open, and immediately his brown eyes find mine. My mouth goes dry, but I manage a small nod in his direction to acknowledge his presence. It’s all I can manage. I knew if I tried to say anything I’d barely get out a squeak.

The day we had first met flashes before my eyes, my irritation at yet another flashback pushed down by the sudden onrush of memories.

I had met him a couple months after I’d first arrived at H.Q. I was in the library, trying to cram every bit of information on the Roman Empire the library had to offer into my head before the history test the next day. Everyone - including me - had complained that we had no need for such information, as it was the past. But, sadly, our teacher was determined to make us suffer.

It was around twelve p.m. and most everyone had already gone to bed. The librarian was very nearly asleep in her chair behind her desk. It had been dead silent, the fire in the huge fireplace nothing but dying embers at that point. I had been walking back to the table I was occupying, several books stuffed in my arms and my nose stuck in a book about the weapons of Ancient Rome. I wasn’t paying attention; there was no need to, everyone had left.

I guess not everyone had left.

I suddenly slammed into something, or someone, by the feel of it. I let out an oomph of surprise, crashing down to the floor and landing on top of whoever it was I had walked into. I looked down to see who I had fallen on top of, and was immediately mortified.

It was a boy, about my age. A very attractive boy. And I was sitting on him.

“Oh! I am so sorry, here let me help you up!” I scrambled off of him, offering him a hand. Instead of taking my hand, he simply stared back up at me, a small smile on his lips.

He sat up on his elbows, crossing one ankle over the other. “You should really watch where you’re going.”

I said nothing, giving him a sheepish smile and again offering my hand.

And again, he ignored it. The boy looked around him, noting the fallen books. He finally sat up, gracefully crossing his legs and reaching for the books I had dropped. I stood there, dumbstruck, watching as he picked up every one of the books I had previously carried.

Finally, with the books in tow, he stood.

He was very tall. Taller than me, in fact; he had to have been at least 6’3.

He silently handed me the books, that smile still on his lips.

“I… uh,” I cleared my throat, taking the books from him. “Thanks.”

The boy laughed, taking a few of the books from me to lighten my load. “It’s fine, no problem. I’m Will, by the way. Will Toussaint.” He followed me down the aisle of bookshelves to my table, setting the books down gently.

I smiled at Will, replying, “I’m Luka Romano.”

We stood there in silence, staring at each other. Why am I so socially awkward? I thought in dismay.

Will laughed softly and shook his head, seemingly amused by my awkwardness. He took a step forward, forcing me to look up ever so slightly. He was… really close, but I found I didn’t mind.

“We should grab coffee sometime,” Will said.

I swallowed hard, wondering if “coffee” was simply a friendly invite, or something more.

We never did get coffee, but I’ve seen Will around H.Q. many times since that night. And every single time I see him, I can’t help but think what it might be like to kiss him.