Right after I read his text and dropped a soft, cheeky reply, my mind drifted. It just slipped into some quiet space where all I could do was replay the little moments we've had. Sweet memories, simple ones, but they live loud in my head.
Jordan's not perfect, I mean nobody is—but that boy's heart? Warm. Real. Steady. He's one of the few people I honestly believe don't just "want" me, but "see" me. Like all the messy, complicated, mouthy parts of me; and still chooses to stay.
Jordan's been that person. The one who sees me, and loves me deeply. Not just for what I do, or how I speak, or the way I put words together. But for who I am.
He's never made me feel like I had to become anything more than I already am.
Honestly, sometimes I wonder how I even got this lucky. Like, what did I do right to have someone like him? Not everyone gets a Jordan in their life. He's the kind of guy who makes sacrifice look easy. The kind of guy who remembers the little stuff, shows up without asking, and listens like my thoughts matter.
If care had a face, if loyalty had a name, then it would be him. No doubt.
Without thinking, I looked down at my phone again, just to read his message one more time. For the fourth time, maybe fifth. Don't judge me. His words refreshed me just like the first time.
"Hey my sweet soul, what's up with you? The day is bright as fair because I got you in it. No matter how dark it may seem, having you in my life makes me see light. You're the wonderful treasure I can't trade with. I love you more than any poetic word… it's you, or nobody else…"
God.
I couldn't stop smiling like a fool. That stupid, cheeks-hurting kind of smile. You know that kind of grin you do when it's just you and your screen, and you know you look stupid but you don't care? Yeah. That one.
God. The butterflies?
They weren't even butterflies anymore. Full-blown pigeons flapping in my chest.
I felt like honey and syrup was poured on my heart, warm and thick and sweet. I hugged my pillow like it was Jordan himself. Blushed like a teenager. My heart felt full like it would burst.
I blushed. Again. And again.
The morning light poured into my room, soft and golden, like the whole world was agreeing with how I felt. My bedsheets still smelled faintly like laundry soap, my phone warm in my hand from how tight I'd been holding it. My toes curled under the blanket. I didn't want to move. Didn't want anything to ruin this.
Even the annoying creak sound in my bed frame didn't bother me this morning.
What a way to start the day, huh? I whispered to myself.
I remembered how we first met… during first year orientation.
Crazy how something that small could change everything for me.
He had no idea what he was walking into. Me neither. But somehow, fate, oh yeah, I said it: "fate" made me to sit right beside him that day.
I used to roll my eyes when people said stuff like "fate brought us together." But after Jordan? I don't even argue again. I believe it now.
It all started with what I thought was just an unplanned coincidence.
Rose had reserved a seat for me in that huge, echoey university auditorium. You'd think it was a concert hall, not an orientation. We've always done things together, me and Rose. From our wild secondary school days, up to getting into CCNY, we've been like glue. She's more than a friend: she's home.
She called me that morning. I don't even remember what kept me. Something not so important... but still, I wasn't there on time.
Rose, being Rose, waited. But not for long.
She said someone had announced all empty seats had to be filled. And well… she gave my seat away.
To him.
By the time I finally walked in, flustered and breathless, the seat beside her was gone. And so was my chance to sit with her. I tried to scan for a spot, and yeah, I found one, way at the back.
That's when I saw him.
He was sitting there like the world didn't exist. Eyes locked on the speaker, nodding slowly, jotting notes down like it was life or death. No distractions. No fidgeting. Just... focused. Something about that struck me.
I slid into the seat beside him, tried not to make noise with my bag. He didn't even glance.
I waited a minute, maybe two, then leaned over.
"Hey, um… sorry… can I glance through your notes?" My voice came out soft, probably too soft.
He turned, looked at me for the first time. His eyes were dark, kind of sleepy, but there was a sharpness in them too, like he was reading through me.
He didn't speak for a second.
Then he smiled. Just a little one. Barely-there, but enough to twist something in my chest.
"Sure," he said, turning his notebook slightly toward me. "I write fast though. You might need to catch up."
I let out this nervous laugh. "It's fine. I just missed the first part. Thank you."
We didn't say anything else for a while. Just sat there, shoulder to shoulder, flipping through pages and pretending to be focused.
But the air? It changed.
Every time his pen scratched against the paper, I noticed. Every time he leaned forward to listen, I found myself doing the same.
At some point, our arms touched. Just lightly.
I didn't move mine. Neither did he.
I told myself it was nothing. Just seating arrangements. Just campus energy. Just nerves.
But I felt it.
After the session ended, we stood up at the same time. I turned to thank him again, but he beat me to it.
"I'm Jordan, by the way."
"Seraphina," I said, tucking my hair behind my ear, suddenly aware of how frizzy it'd gotten from the morning rush.
"Seraphina," he repeated. "That's different. I like it."
"Thanks. Yours sounds like… like a basketball player."
He laughed. "You wouldn't be too far off."
And then he just... stood there. Waiting. Like he didn't want to leave yet.
Neither did I.
It's weird how some people feel familiar before you even know them.
Before I walked away, he said, "Hope I'll see you around, Seraphina."
And just like that… something started. Quiet, slow, almost too casual. But real.
After that day, he started showing up like, "everywhere".
In the cafeteria line. At the library stairwell. Even once outside the arts building, pretending to be looking for a class that wasn't even on that floor.
Jordan was smooth, but not in that annoying, trying-too-hard kinda way. He had this calm around him. Like he knew who he was, but didn't have to shout about it.
We started walking together. Just little walks. To the bus stop. Around the school garden. One time it rained, just a light drizzle, and we shared his hoodie. He put it over both our heads like in those cheesy high school movies. I thought I'd hate that kind of stuff. Turns out, I didn't.
It wasn't long before he became my person. The one who texts first. The one who remembers how I like my tea. Who notices when my voice is lower than usual and asks, "What's up?" until I actually talk.
And he "listens". That's the thing about Jordan. He listens not just to what I say—but also to the stuff I "don't".
When my classes got overwhelming, he started sending me random affirmations. His own words. Like this one:
"You don't have to prove anything to anyone, Sera. You already are enough. Just breathe, okay? One breath at a time. I'm here."
That message? I saved it. Still read it sometimes when life gets too loud.
So yeah… reading his text that morning, it wasn't just some cute message. It was everything we've built from that random day in the back row..
And even though there were storms quietly building in other corners of my life... right then, I had peace.
But somewhere deep in my heart, under all that sweetness, something shifted. A small ache. Like a pinch.
Because even with all that Jordan is… I hadn't told him about Malik.
Not yet.
And somehow, I knew I couldn't hide it for long.