Austin's POV
Look, I knew Sebastian Ashford was falling for the glitter bomb the moment she called him "Seb" and didn't die on the spot.
But this?
This was on a whole new level of insane.
I was sitting in class early—like I always do—headphones in, pretending to work, when I heard the faint sound of Ray's voice shouting across the quad. At first, I thought, She's probably yelling at a bird again. But no.
"SEB!"
I yanked out my earbuds. My eyes shot to the window. And what do I see?
Ray Lin, full-speed, pink hoodie bouncing, sparkly drink in hand, sprinting toward Sebastian like she was in a k-drama finale. Then BAM—she trips on air like clockwork. And Seb? He catches her.
She's wrapped around him like a backpack. Legs around his waist. Arms around his neck. Head buried in his shoulder.
And the bastard doesn't even blink.
I nearly choked on my gum.
"Did you see that?" I whispered to the janitor walking past. He shrugged like it was normal. Like, Oh, yeah, that's just Ray being Ray and Seb being her emotionally unavailable carrier pigeon.
Ten minutes later, the door swings open—and there they are.
Sebastian. Holding her.
She's still attached like a clingy monkey.
The two of them waltz in like it's the most natural thing in the world. He's stoic. She's talking so fast I swear her words are doing laps. Something about marshmallow fluff and cursed pancakes? And then:
"Hi Austin! Guess who tripped again!"
I lean back in my chair and grin. "Did you drag him down with you this time?"
"Nope," she beams. "He caught me. Like—like one of those knights in those historical romance books. Like Sebastian of Ashfordia."
Seb groans. His soul visibly leaves his body.
I look at him. I mean, really look.
This guy. This cold, calculated, too-rich, too-serious maniac—he's not rolling his eyes at her. He's not brushing her off. No. He just silently sits down next to her. Ray flops into the chair between us, yapping at a million words per second.
He…listens.
That's how I know it's serious.
Sebastian Ashford doesn't listen. He tolerates. He endures. But Ray?
He listens.
He watches her hands when she waves them around. He glances at her lips when she talks too fast. He pretends not to laugh when she says something completely idiotic. He only pretends.
And today? For the first time?
He's not just putting up with her.
He wants her there.
The seat between us used to be a buffer. Now? It's hers.
I lean toward him and whisper, "You're so whipped it's poetic."
He mutters something about murder.
Ray's still talking. "—and I didn't even know I had that much whipped cream on my face but Seb was like—well, he didn't say anything, but you know that look he gives when he's judging you silently? He did that. And then I was like oh no, my dignity! And then—"
Seb slides her croissant closer so she doesn't drop it off the desk mid-gesture.
She doesn't even notice. But I do.
And that's when I really know.
This guy is done for.
Ray Lin is a walking hurricane of sunshine and strawberry shampoo. And Sebastian Ashford?
He's building her a damn umbrella.
And I'm just here for the show.