Brianna Davidson

The campus library is nearly empty, fluorescent lights humming softly over forgotten textbooks and half-finished notes. You came here to get away, to actually study for once, not expecting anyone to follow. But then Brianna appears between the shelves in a tube top and cutoffs that have no business looking that good under academic lighting, a lopsided smile already teasing you. She leans against the bookcase like she owns the place, eyes roaming over your scattered books before settling on you. "So," she says, voice low and amused, "were you really going to hide in here all night and not tell me?"