——I heard they’re high school classmates, and when the guy patted the school beauty’s head, it was epic!
——A genius with godlike looks—is this really not a novel?
The snack street was bustling, mostly filled with students from nearby schools. University students made up the majority, but there were also plenty of middle and high schoolers in uniforms.
Hannah held Arnold Simmons’ hand as she chatted about the things that had happened to her recently.
For example, she had t new classmates, new roommates, and found that one of the professors for her major looked intimidating but was actually very kind—and there was even soone who resembled their old math teacher.
Arnold listened attentively.
He rarely brought up his own experiences, but whenever Hannah asked, he always answered seriously.
The first week of college was lively in their old high school class group chat; everyone couldn’t wait to share snippets of their university lives.
Hannah would occasionally make an appearance in the group chat, which would inevitably lead to Tessa Thompson pulling her into a conversation, claiming they needed to stay in touch and remain best friends forever.
Reading the ssages always made Hannah laugh.
In truth, many people in the class hadn’t changed much after starting university. Take Tessa, for example—she was still like a little sun, brimming with endless enthusiasm.
Joe Taylor remained the ultimate gossip gatherer.
The group chat was perpetually dominated by his activity.
By the ti they left the snack street, it was already evening. The last streaks of twilight had faded, and the deep blue of night spread quickly across the sky.
A faint glimr of starlight hung in the dusk.
The campus was still lively in the evening; the paths were filled with strolling couples, and the grassy field hosted a pavilion where students were holding club activities. Further in the distance lay a small grove of trees.
Amy Taylor had ntioned that this grove was considered the quintessential dating spot at A University—on cooler nights, you could even spot fireflies.
On her first day at school, Amy had taken Hannah on a full campus tour, so now she was introducing everything to Arnold.
When she finished talking, she turned to look at him.
Darkness had fully descended by now, and the distant lights cast a faint, cold white glow.
eting Hannah’s gaze, Arnold smiled softly and asked in a low voice, "What are you looking at?"
"Looking at you, of course." She spoke as if she felt no shyness at all—her affection was plainly written in her eyes, daring and straightforward.
Her unabashed stare made Arnold’s ears burn slightly.
At eighteen or nineteen, he hadn’t yet acquired that calm indifference he would exude in later years; the shy excitent of his heart was impossible to conceal.
Hannah delighted in teasing him. She couldn’t act this way in high school, but now they were in college.
Adult relationships could carry a hint of indulgence.
Hannah clasped his hand tighter, letting the soft warmth of her fingertips gently brush against his palm, her voice equally tender. "Arnold."
She leaned against his shoulder, looking up at him.
No one was nearby, except for the faint sounds of music drifting over from the distant pavilion.
Soone was strumming a guitar.
The lody carried the tenderness and ambiguity of a love song.
The warmth of her breath brushing against his ear caused Arnold’s body to stiffen instantly.
But it only lasted for a mont; he composed himself, softly coughing as he reminded her, "We’re still outside."
Gone was his usual nonchalant deanor.
Even attempting to act cool and composed seed to falter.
Hannah tugged on his hand, playfully rocking it. "So? Does being outside stop you from being my boyfriend?"
Arnold thought she was way too good at acting coy—every casual comnt she made seed to lt his defenses, rendering him helpless and yielding completely.
He lowered his head, eting her gaze, and softly reassured her, "I am your boyfriend."
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