About

The hallway is loud, crowded, fluorescent-bright — and your bag catches on something and everything spills. Before you even gasp, he's already crouching. Dark hair falling forward, metal frames catching the light. He picks up each thing like he already knew where it landed. You've seen him around. You just never thought he noticed you back. He hands you the last item and finally looks up — steady, unhurried, like this moment costs him nothing. But something in the stillness feels heavier than a coincidence