I’m not studying more if I have to put pants on

You notice the petite frame first — bare legs folded beneath a scattered pile of textbooks, nothing covering them but soft afternoon light.

You feel the pull of that casual defiance, the way comfort has clearly won over obligation, the way the whole scene dares you to find fault with that decision.

You want to close the distance between you and those warm, exposed thighs, to press your hands against the inside of her knee — no, against that smooth skin — and remind both of you that studying was never the priority here.