---
Denzel kept his word.
The next afternoon, after classes ended, I brought my laptop to the small study corner near the library where he said he'd be. He was already there — headphones around his neck, a notebook open beside him, and that calm expression he always carried like it was part of his personality.
He looked up when I walked in, and his face softened slightly.
"Assignment trouble girl," he said quietly, almost like a tease but not sharp enough to sting.
I rolled my eyes playfully and sat. "Please don't give me a title."
"No promises," he murmured, pulling my laptop closer.
---
He worked on the file while I watched, occasionally explaining something I barely understood but appreciated anyway. At some point, the silence shifted — not awkward, just full in that way silence can be when you're comfortable.
And I realized…
I hadn't felt this light around someone in a long time.
Not pretending.
Not adjusting myself.
Just… existing.
When the file finally opened correctly, I nearly burst with relief.
"See?" he said, leaning back. "Not the end of the world."
"I was close to crying," I admitted.
"Well," he shrugged, "I'm glad you didn't."
I laughed, really laughed, and it surprised me how natural it felt.
---
As the tension faded, our conversation drifted easily.
He asked about my family, and I told him about my younger brother — how chaotic he was, how he stole my snacks, how he teased me about everything.
Denzel chuckled. "Sounds like a full-time job."
"It is," I sighed dramatically. "Sometimes I think he enjoys stressing me."
"Little siblings do," he said thoughtfully. "It's their way of showing affection."
I narrowed my eyes. "That sounds suspiciously personal."
He smirked. "Maybe."
There was a tiny pause before he looked at me again.
"So… boyfriend?" he asked, not in a flirty way — just curious.
I waved the idea off with a small laugh. "No. Not anymore."
He nodded gently, like he understood more than he said.
"What about you?" I asked.
His gaze shifted — not uncomfortable, just thoughtful.
"I… don't know," he answered quietly.
That was it.
No explanation.
No details.
Just a soft truth left sitting between us.
---
Lily wasn't back yet when I returned to the room, and for once, the silence didn't feel heavy. Maybe it was the laughter still lingering in my chest, or the calm from spending time with someone who didn't drain me.
Either way, it felt good not to be alone.
I changed into something comfortable, opened my window to let the evening air in, and just breathed.
---
Later, Zoey and Adam came by to borrow something from Lily. They stayed long enough for quick jokes, some random gossip about class groups, and a small rant from Adam about his project partner.
Their energy was chaotic and loud — but in the best way.
It made the room feel alive again.
---
The next morning, class was its usual mix of noise and distraction. I sat near the window, taking notes, half listening, half drifting off into my thoughts.
At some point, I glanced back.
Denzel and Sarah were seated two rows behind me, looking focused — well, Sarah was focused; Denzel just looked calm as ever.
Our eyes met for a second.
He didn't smile widely, just a small acknowledgment.
But somehow, that tiny gesture made my heart feel warm.
---
When night came, the hallway outside my dorm was quieter than usual. I stepped out for a moment to take off trash, and that was when I saw him — Rav — leaning against the railing, scrolling through his phone.
He looked up immediately.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Hey."
There was always something gentle about him, something that didn't try to pull you in but made you feel seen anyway.
We talked a little — not deep things, not secrets or confessions.
Just… everyday things.
How classes were.
How the semester felt different.
How fast everyone seemed to be growing up.
We were close in a strange, quiet way — not through deep conversations, but through presence.
Through glances.
Through the calm that existed between us.
Close from afar.
When I told him goodnight and headed back to the room, a small part of me ached in a familiar but softer way.
Not longing.
Not confusion.
Just the quiet realization that life was shifting again.
And maybe I was finally ready for it.
---