Pearl didn't plan to see him again that day. But the universe, in its quiet mischief, did.
May had dragged her to the campus café after class, insisting she needed a break from color-coding her chemistry notes. Pearl, tired but smiling, followed, her tote bag stuffed with highlighted papers and a half-eaten protein bar.
They entered the café, the warm scent of coffee and cinnamon hugging them immediately. The place was alive with chatter and clinking cups, but Pearl's eyes paused when she saw him—Sharon, sitting by the window, sketchbook open, earbuds in, lost in his world.
May smirked. "Go say hi to your library boy."
Pearl rolled her eyes but didn't deny the way her heart picked up, its rhythm matching the soft café music. She ordered a caramel latte and found herself walking toward him before she could second-guess it.
"Sharon," she said, gently tapping the table.
His head snapped up, earbuds tumbling out, eyes wide before softening when he saw it was her. "Star," he said, the word slipping out with a small smile, shy but honest.
She grinned, sliding into the seat across from him without asking. "What are you drawing now?"
He hesitated before turning the sketchbook toward her. It was the café, the steam rising from cups, people mid-laughter, but in the center, a half-finished figure with a messy ponytail and a soft smile—her.
"That's me again," she whispered, trying not to smile too hard.
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks pink.
Their coffees arrived, and she took a sip, letting the warmth calm her racing heart. She talked about her latest biology chapter, about May and Aaron's endless teasing, about how she hated but loved exams. He listened, nodding, adding small, careful comments that made her laugh.
And when she laughed, Sharon found himself smiling without realizing it, the way her laughter filled the tiny corner of the café making something inside him feel alive, like a spark catching onto something soft and waiting.
"Do you always draw people you barely know?" she teased, eyes dancing.
He looked at her, serious, before replying, "I don't draw people I don't see."
For a moment, they were quiet, coffee warming their hands, laughter lingering in the air. Outside, the rain began to fall, soft and persistent, blurring the glass, but inside, it felt warm, like the world was small enough to fit into that café corner with them.
She took a napkin and scribbled something on it before handing it to him, her eyes soft but brave.
"Don't stop seeing me then, Sharon," it read, a small star doodled next to her words.
He folded it carefully, tucking it into his sketchbook, not knowing he'd keep it there for a long, long time.