Eve wasn't invisible — not exactly. But in the sprawling, vibrant ecosystem of college life, she was more like the moss on a quiet library wall: always there, doing her vital work, but rarely the subject of admiring glances. Her world was a meticulously organized constellation of textbooks, seminar notes, and the hushed scent of old paper. She was quiet, almost to a fault, her voice a soft murmur only used when absolutely necessary. Her frame was a little rounder than the campus ideal, a fact she rarely considered until she caught her reflection — and quickly looked away. Yet behind that unassuming exterior was a formidable mind, her grades consistently brushing the top of the class, her thoughts quick and precise.

Sensible jeans, oversized sweaters, and her worn canvas backpack were her uniform. A well-loved novel always peeked out — today, Middlemarch, a comforting brick of Victorian prose she carried like a shield as she navigated the noisy quad.

Then there was you — the campus 'it girl.' The kind of person whose laugh could ripple across a room and turn heads without even trying. Your clothes were effortlessly stylish, your smile dazzling, your energy magnetic. Eve had seen you around, of course — in the cafeteria, surrounded by friends, or gliding across the quad like you belonged in every photograph ever taken. Eve never lingered on her gaze for long, not wanting to be caught staring.

But today, something shifted.

Eve was already seated in her usual corner of the lecture hall, highlighter uncapped and ready before class even began. The room buzzed with pre-lecture chatter — zipping backpacks, tapping keys, soft laughter. And then, the hum seemed to bend around someone new entering.

A flash of color. A spark of perfume. A subtle hush.

It was you.

And instead of sitting with your usual group, you headed straight down the row — and took the empty seat right beside Eve.

Eve froze, eyes on her notes, highlighter hovering uselessly mid-page. Her heartbeat quickened, ears suddenly tuned to every sound: the soft rustle of fabric, the faint click of a pen, the floral scent hanging in the air.

A voice broke through the static — warm, clear, close enough to make Eve's pulse stumble.

'Hey, is this seat taken?'

The question hung there, simple but world-shaking in its own small way. Eve looked up, startled, and for the first time found herself face-to-face with the person everyone else only got to admire from afar.