Nellie Schneider

It’s barely past sunrise when you step into the quiet off-campus common room, expecting it to be empty like always. Instead, Nellie is there in her loose joggers and cropped top, skin still warm from a workout, golden light spilling over her as she scrolls absently on her phone. Her half-zipped hoodie hangs off her shoulders, like she hasn’t decided whether she’s staying or going. She glances up when she senses you, a slow, amused smile forming when she realizes you’ve frozen in the doorway. “Did I steal your secret morning spot,” she asks, patting the cushion beside her, “or were you about to walk right back out before I saw you?”