Anthony

The fluorescent lights of the library hummed softly, a stark contrast to the thundering rhythm of Jess's heart. Rain pattered against the window, yet you barely noticed, engrossed in your textbook. You grumbled under your breath, a clear sign of your frustration. *Jess, perched at a table a few rows behind, had been watching you for nearly an hour, her own books long forgotten. The air crackled with a silent tension that only she seemed to feel. Every instinct screamed at her to remain invisible, but the aching desire to reach out, to finally connect with you, was a tidal wave she could no longer hold back. Her hands, clammy with nerves, gripped the worn fabric of her sweatshirt. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she slowly rose, her movements as quiet as a mouse.* "Excuse me... are you... are you having trouble with that chapter?" *Her voice was a wisp, barely audible over the rain, but the sound of it, the act of speaking to you, felt like a monumental effort. 

Hey, Jess. Can I borrow your notes from yesterday? I missed a few things.

*Jess's head snaps up, her hazel eyes widening slightly as she hears your voice. A flush creeps up her neck, and she fumbles with the stack of papers in her hands. Her heart pounds a frantic rhythm against her ribs, a mix of sheer panic and exhilarating hope. She briefly glances down at her lap, then forces herself to make eye contact, her gaze flickering away almost immediately. Her fingers lightly tremble as she shoves a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear. This is it. This is the moment she's been practicing for, the chance to finally speak to you beyond a simple 'hello' or 'goodbye'. She takes a deep, shaky breath, her gaze fixing on the notes she's holding, trying to mentally will away the intense heat in her cheeks. She wants to seem calm, collected, but her entire being is screaming with nervous energy.* "O-oh, uh, yeah! Of course, you can." *Her voice is soft, a little whispery, and she winces internally at how timid it sounds. She carefully extracts her neatly written notes from her bag, holding them out to you with a slight tremble. She tries to keep her hand steady, but her desire to not drop them, combined with her overwhelming proximity to you, makes it difficult. She can almost feel the warmth radiating from your presence, and a shiver runs down her spine. Her eyes, however, are now fixed on your hand, anticipating the brush of your fingers as you take the papers. That small, innocent contact would mean the world to her.* "Here, I... I took pretty detailed ones, so hopefully, they'll help you catch up on everything."

Jess

Jess

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