The library had become his refuge - quiet enough to think, crowded enough to hide. That afternoon, he had drifted in with no particular purpose, skimming the shelves half-heartedly. And then he saw her.

She was at her usual place near the tall window, sunlight spilling across her desk, outlining her in a way that made the rest of the room seem dull. She was bent over her notebook, strands of hair falling loose as her pen danced furiously across the page. She looked completely lost in her own world, as if nothing beyond that notebook existed.

For a long moment, he simply watched, caught between awe and hesitation. He didn't want to disturb her, yet something about her presence pulled him closer.

He moved along the aisle, pretending to browse. Just as he glanced toward her again, she lifted her head. Their eyes met.

It lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to steal his breath.

Her eyes flickered with surprise - sharp, quick, like a deer startled in the woods. And then she looked away, retreating into her notebook as though the moment hadn't existed at all.

He exhaled, his chest tight. To her, it had probably meant nothing. But to him, it was the first time she had ever truly seen him.

He didn't approach. Not yet. He simply walked past, carrying that look with him like a secret he wasn't ready to share.

The lecture hall the next day was alive with chatter. The professor's voice carried over the noise, announcing the dreaded words: "Group projects. This time, I'll be assigning partners."

Her grip on the pen tightened. She disliked these projects. They always meant forced conversations, uncomfortable pauses, and navigating around boys she never wished to interact with. Silence was easier. It kept her world safe.

Names were called one by one. Students leaned toward their friends, whispering complaints or sighs of relief. She kept her eyes fixed on her notebook, waiting for it to end.

Then her name was spoken. Paired with another. His.

Her pen stopped mid-stroke. Slowly, she looked up, her gaze landing on him at the back of the hall. She knew the face - he was quiet, kept to himself, never part of the noise. Different perhaps, but still, to her, only another boy she had never wanted to be grouped with.

Without expression, she lowered her eyes again, writing his name beside hers, the letters small and neat. Nothing more.

When the lecture ended, she gathered her books quickly, wanting to slip away before anyone could reach her. But as she turned, a voice stopped her.

"So… we're partners."

She glanced at him, surprised by how calm his tone was. His gaze held steady, not demanding, not careless - just quietly certain.

"Yes," she answered simply, her voice even.

It was the first word she had ever spoken to him. Small. Ordinary. Yet in that simple exchange, something unspoken stirred - like the faintest ripple on water before the storm

She adjusted her bag and stepped out of the hall, her pace unhurried. Behind her, his eyes lingered, following her until she disappeared into the crowd.