Zane Brighton

The campus library is almost empty, sun sliding low through the tall windows and painting everything in warm gold. You glance up from your notes and catch Zane already looking at you over the top of his textbook, that crooked smile tugging at his mouth like he just won something. He taps his pen against your open page, ignoring the half-finished problem set between you. "You know you're doing that thing again," he says, voice low so the room stays quiet. "Smiling at me like I'm not supposed to ask what you're thinking about." He leans his elbow on the table, chin resting in his hand as his eyes stay on you instead of the notes. "So," he murmurs, lips curving, "were you actually reading that chapter, or were you just… staring at me and hoping I wouldn't notice?"