Alexander wasn't much of a texter.Or a caller.Or a "let's hang out just because" kind of guy.
But now he found himself scrolling through their chat thread like there might be something hidden between the lines. Every message from her had a kind of warmth that stuck. Even the dumb jokes about popcorn taxes or her "official title" as BMW co-pilot.
He wasn't looking for signs.Not really.He just… liked reading her words.
Which was how he ended up sending a text he never would've sent a month ago.
Alexander:You doing anything this afternoon?
Elena:Just drowning in notes and coffee. Why?
Alexander:Thought I'd rescue you. Or at least make sure you're caffeinated enough to survive.
Elena:Are you offering a study session or a date? Because either way, I'm saying yes.
He stared at that last line longer than necessary.
A joke, probably. She was good at those.
But still.
The word date stayed stuck in his head.
The campus café wasn't anything special—neutral-toned walls, worn wooden tables, and the constant hum of students typing like their lives depended on it. Elena was already there when he walked in, her hair pulled back, hoodie sleeves rolled halfway, pen twirling in her hand like she'd been waiting for something better than notes.
When she looked up, her smile hit him like a warm breeze.
"Hey," she said, nudging the chair across from her with her foot. "I got you a coffee. Black. No sugar. Wild guess."
He smirked, dropping into the chair. "Lucky guess."
She rolled her eyes. "Or maybe I'm just observant."
"Dangerous skill," he muttered, and she laughed.
They didn't study much at first. Not really.
She teased him about his messy handwriting when he scribbled something on her notes.He pretended to be offended.Somehow, they ended up talking about everything except school—favorite songs, old movies, the dumb things they did as kids.
It wasn't forced.It wasn't heavy.It just… flowed.
And every time her eyes found his, it lingered.Not long enough to be obvious.But long enough that he noticed.
At one point, she leaned back in her chair, tilting her head as she looked at him.
"You're not what I expected," she said suddenly.
Alexander blinked. "What does that mean?"
"You just… You look like you'd be the brooding, silent type. But you're not. You're quiet, yeah, but not… closed off. Not with me."
Something in his chest tightened. "Is that a good thing?"
She smiled softly. "Yeah. It is."
They walked back across campus after, coffees in hand, the late afternoon air crisp and cool. Neither of them said much, but the silence felt… whole. Like every step said enough.
When they reached her dorm, she stopped and turned to him.
"Alex?"
"Yeah?"
Her green eyes caught the soft light from the building behind them. "I'm glad you texted today."
He nodded, slow. "Me too."
It wasn't a confession. Not out loud.
But it was there, in the way her words softened, in the way his chest felt lighter, in the way their shoulders brushed as they stood there for one quiet second too long.
Something about today made it clear:They both knew.
And neither of them wanted to fight it anymore.