The campus library was quiet that afternoon, filled with the low hum of turning pages and soft footsteps. Brooklyn sat tucked in a corner with her laptop open, though she hadn't typed a single word in the past ten minutes.
Her mind replayed the morning: Mani leaning against the wall, waiting, smiling too brightly when she told him she needed space. The way his eyes lingered even after she walked into class.
It felt like no matter where she turned, Mani would be there.
Her phone buzzed on the desk. A new message.
"Dinner was amazing. Can we talk again tonight?"
Brooklyn's stomach twisted. She locked the screen and shoved the phone face-down.
"Bad news?"
She looked up—and froze. Bryant was standing across the table, holding two cups of coffee.
"I didn't know what you like," he said, setting one in front of her, "so I guessed."
A smile tugged at her lips despite herself. "You didn't have to—"
"Yeah, I did," Bryant cut in gently, sliding into the seat across from her. "You've looked… tense. For days."
Brooklyn's fingers curled around the cup, warmth seeping into her palms. She stared at him for a moment, trying to decide whether to brush it off or tell the truth.
Finally, the truth won.
"Mani waited outside my class this morning."
Bryant's jaw clenched instantly, but his voice stayed calm. "And?"
"And he wanted to know if I'd thought about what he said last night. He keeps pushing, Bryant. I told him I need space, but it's like he doesn't hear me."
Bryant leaned forward, eyes burning with quiet intensity. "That's because he doesn't want to hear you. Brooklyn, guys like Mani… they don't understand boundaries. They only understand competition."
Her chest tightened. "And I don't want to be the prize in some competition."
"You're not," Bryant said firmly. "Not to me. You're… you."
The words lingered between them, heavy and raw. Brooklyn's breath hitched, her heart beating too fast.
"Bryant…" she whispered.
He shook his head, his voice low but steady. "I'm not saying this to pressure you. I just want you to know—you don't have to deal with this alone. If Mani shows up again, I'll be there. If he doesn't listen, I'll make him listen."
Something warm bloomed in Brooklyn's chest, easing the tension that had been coiled there since dinner.
"Thank you," she said softly. "You don't know how much that means."
Bryant leaned back, watching her with an expression that made her stomach flip. For once, she didn't look away.
The quiet stretched between them, filled with unspoken words neither dared to say.
Then Brooklyn's phone buzzed again. She glanced at the screen: Mani. Calling this time.
Her throat went dry.
Bryant saw her hesitate and reached across the table, gently covering her hand with his. "You don't have to answer."
She looked at their hands, at the strength and steadiness in his touch, and nodded. With a deep breath, she silenced the call.
For the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe again.