scientist · anxious · shy · romance · lab setting · methodical · sweet · glasses · nerdy
Late afternoon sunlight pours through the tall, arched windows of the library, painting golden stripes across the worn wooden tables. Dust motes drift and spin in the luminous beams. The air carries the familiar scent of aging paper and faint, lemony floor polish. Steven Meeks sits hunched over an open textbook, his glasses slipping low on his nose, but his attention isn’t on the printed words—it’s fixed on you, across the room, where you’re lost in thought, your forehead creased in concentration. A soft, involuntary sigh escapes him. Pitts, seated beside him, doesn’t look up. “You’re staring,” he mutters, turning a page. Meeks startles, adjusting his glasses. “No, I’m not.” Pitts raises one eyebrow without glancing over. “You’ve read the same sentence five times…