The library was quieter than usual the next evening, the heavy silence broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning. Brooklyn settled at their usual corner table, her notes stacked neatly in front of her.
She half-expected Bryant not to show. After the way he'd confronted her last night, maybe he'd avoid her altogether.
But right on time, he appeared, dropping his backpack on the chair across from her. "Relax," he said lightly, as if nothing had happened. "I'm not late this time."
Brooklyn gave him a wary glance. "You always act like punctuality is a miracle."
He smirked, leaning over to grab one of her notes. "That's because it is."
She tried to stay focused, but the memory of his words from last night—Because I do—lingered stubbornly. She cleared her throat. "So… methodology section? Did you finish your part?"
Bryant slid his notebook across the table. His handwriting was messy, but the content was sharp, insightful, even impressive.
Brooklyn blinked. "This is… really good."
"Told you I wasn't useless," he said with a grin, though his eyes flickered with something softer, almost vulnerable.
She smiled despite herself, flipping through the pages. "I never said you were useless."
"You didn't have to," he teased. "Your face says everything."
Brooklyn rolled her eyes, but this time there was no heat behind it. Their banter felt lighter, warmer somehow.
As they worked, their shoulders brushed occasionally when they leaned over the same textbook. Each time, Brooklyn felt a spark, small but undeniable. At one point, she looked up and caught him watching her instead of the notes.
"What?" she asked quickly.
Bryant leaned back, smirk tugging at his lips. "Nothing. Just… you're different when you're focused. It's kind of cute."
Her cheeks warmed instantly. "Stop distracting me."
But her heart betrayed her, thumping harder with every second.
For once, the silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was comfortable, almost intimate. Between the pages of dusty books and highlighted notes, something unspoken was taking root, fragile but real.
Brooklyn tried to bury the thought, but she couldn't deny it anymore.
She was falling.