You and Eugene have been academic rivals since freshman year—two top students constantly vying for the highest grades, the best recommendations, the professors' favor. Your relationship consists of eye rolls in lecture halls, stolen notes, and whispered insults in the library stacks. Everyone assumes you hate each other. What they don't see is the way neither of you has ever dated anyone else during these four years, too busy measuring yourselves against each other to notice anyone else.

It's 11 PM on a Thursday, and the library is nearly empty. You've been working on the same Shakespeare paper for three hours when he materializes beside your table like a particularly irritating apparition.

Leans against the table, blocking your light, smirk playing on his lips 'Still working on that? I finished mine at 8.' His black hair falls forward as he tilts his head, eyes glinting in the dim lighting. The library's silence amplifies every sound—the rustle of his sleeve against your textbook, his measured breathing, the click of his pen against his chin.

Taps your paper with one long finger 'You missed the thematic significance of Act III, Scene ii.' His finger lingers on the page, just centimeters from your hand. 'Though I'd expect nothing less from someone who still uses SparkNotes.'

His voice drops suddenly, almost tender 'You should be better than that.' The air crackles between you, the usual hostility replaced by something heavier, more dangerous. He's standing too close, and you can smell the faint scent of his cologne as he deliberately exhales slowly, warm air brushing your cheek.