The overpowering smell of coffee and pastries fills your nose as you pull open the door to the cafe. You and Mark like to come study here often--so often that the baristas know you. One of them waves at you as you walk past, and you grin and wave back.

"I'll come order in a second," you say, scanning the room for Mark. Finally, you find him, but he's not at your usual little table in the corner, and moreover, he's not alone.

"Hey, y/n!" Mark gives you a cheerful greeting.

"Why's he here?" you ask, flicking your eyes to Lucas before turning back to Mark.

"Be nice," Mark says. "I invited him. I want you guys to be friends."

Christ , you think. But then Lucas looks up at you. "Please, sit," he says, quieter than you've ever heard him, and you find yourself dropping into the seat across from him. "I feel like we may have gotten off on the wrong foot."

You snort. "Yeah, maybe," you concede, with a sigh. "Mark tells me you're really cool."

"Yeah, and he tells me you're actually really nice," Lucas says. "Listen, I'm sorry I yelled at you that day in the parking lot. I could've just parked somewhere else."

You laugh, and nod. "Yes, and I'm sorry I snapped at you at that party. It wasn't really your fault. I was just cold, and gross, and surprised that it was you."

"So, truce?" He extends a hand and you accept it, trying very hard not to think about how your hand is almost swallowed by his. A bright smile lights up his face, his eyes becoming crescents. "Ugh, great. Mark tells me you guys come here a lot to study?"

"Yeah," you say, pulling out your laptop and a notebook. "The coffee is good, and it's close to campus." You look up. "What's your major?"

"Undecided, right now," Lucas says, shrugging. "I'm gonna be doing something with music and performance, though."

"Oh, like Mark? Are you guys in class together?"

"No," Mark says. "Not yet. It's only a matter of time, though."

"What about you, y/n?" Lucas asks.

"I'm thinking of something with writing," you say. "Maybe journalism. Not really sure."

"So we're all artists!" he exclaims, grinning. "I love that."

"Lucas is also on the club basketball team," Mark adds. "And y/n's really good at school, not just writing."

"I'm not, like, good at school. I'm just better than you ," you quip, adding for Lucas’s benefit, "which I'm pretty sure is the only reason Mark became my friend in the first place, so he could get homework help."

"Can I get homework help?" Lucas asks, drowning out Mark's well-meaning protests and giving you his puppy-eyed look again. 

"Hm." You pretend to think about it. "I guess, if you pay for my coffee."

That big, doofy grin spreads across his face once more. "No problem."

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One coffee turns into three, turns into many, many weeks' worth of coffee. And you don't mind, because aside from the free caffeine, Lucas is good company. Sometimes Mark joins you guys, and other times he doesn't.

"Dude, stop stealing my best friend from me," Mark accuses good-naturedly.

"You're always welcome to join us," Lucas points out.

"You know I'm usually working, you ."

One day, you get a text from Lucas saying he's near your dorm, and if he cooks you dinner will you help him study for a calc test?

Not really sure I should trust you in a kitchen, or around open flames in general, but okay, you send back, shaking your head.

You spend a good couple hours helping him review, and when he's finally satisfied, you let him go cook. Though he doesn't burn down the entire goddamn building, he does manage to fail miserably at instant ramen, so he orders you both takeout instead, and you spend the rest of the night laughing and watching tv together. After that, it becomes pretty normal for you two to hang out in each other's rooms, sometimes studying, sometimes with Mark, too. 

Whenever you're with him, you feel warm, now. You two often joke over how angry you were at each other the week after you first met. It seems so far away now , you think, laughing as you watch Mark tackle Lucas for throwing popcorn in his face. Lucas fights him off and looks up at you with that smile of his, cheeks and eyes shining. You're suddenly very aware of your heartbeat, and you stumble through a returning grin.

Soon, it's late autumn, and you and Lucas are studying quietly in your room. You're reading a book for class, soothed by the sound of the rain lashing against your window.

"Here, y/n, think fast!" You glance up just in time to see a candy flying in your direction. To your surprise, you catch it with ease.

"Thanks," you say, trying to be nonchalant, unwrapping it and popping it in your mouth before turning back to your reading, tucking a leg up so that your heel is resting on the seat of your chair, and your chin is resting on your knee.

You hear Lucas chuckle, kind of softly, behind you. You're both quiet for a moment, and then he sighs, very dramatically, and tosses some papers or a notebook or something aside, and says, "Y/n, let's go out."

You glance out the window, where rain is still pouring down in sheets in the fading light. "Uh, it's raining," you point out. "Besides, I'm too busy right now with this mountain of homework, and quite frankly, so are you. So, no."

He goes silent, apparently properly chastised, and you go back to studying. The rest of the evening passes quietly, with Lucas only breaking the silence to pass you another candy or to ask you how to spell something.

When the rain lets up a little, Lucas gets up, packing up his things and shrugging on his coat. He's subdued, somehow, so you ask, "Hey, are you okay?" and he just nods, and gives you that big, wide smile. Somehow, though, it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Nonplussed, but not sure what else to do about it, you push the worry out of your mind. "Okay, well, get home safe. Don't stay out in the rain too long. You'll catch a cold."

"Yes, ma'am!" He salutes you, and the door closes rather sharply behind him.

You putter around your room, cleaning up stray candy wrappers and getting ready for bed. You can't help but wonder what was up. If he was stressed about work, wouldn't he have just asked for your help? Eventually, there's no more cleaning to do, and you know fretting about it will do you no good. If it's important, he'll bring it up eventually. You're about to turn in for the night when your phone lights up with a text from Mark.

>>hey, why does Lucas think you hate him???

>>he said you turned him down really coldly today.

You blink, confused. uh..... what the hell are you talking about? you type back.

Your phone buzzes less than ten seconds later. 

>>he asked u out?

>>he said he confessed to you and you said no bc you're both busy

>>and something about the rain(?) that he didn't catch

You stare at your phone for a minute, quickly running back through your memory, and then you smack your phone to your forehead, because of course! You just didn't realize--

You notice you've accidentally sent a rather ugly keysmash.

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Your phone starts ringing, and you roll your eyes and pick up.

Mark is laughing hysterically on the other end. It takes a couple minutes before he calms down enough to say anything coherent. You stare at the wall, deadpan and impatient. 

"Sorry," he finally chokes out. "It's just so ing funny. To be fair, it is kinda his fault. But... Dude, you gotta call him right now before he breaks his own heart any worse."

"Hey, who said I was gonna say yes?" you ask.

"Oh, come on." Mark sounds exasperated. "You two have been running circles around each other since the day you met. Besides," he adds before you can object, "even if you haven't, I know for sure you've gotten more interested in him recently. You guys have been spending so much time together. And you're always talking about him."

"Jealous?" you challenge, and he just scoffs.

"Luckily for all of us, my self-esteem is way too high for that kind of behavior," he says. "Now seriously. Call him."

"What if he hates me now?" you protest, suddenly very anxious. 

"I swear to you he doesn't. Just call him! Right now! I'm hanging up! You better do it! Bye!"

"Mark, wait--" But he's already gone. Sighing, you turn your phone over in your hands. A little thrill goes through you, and you giggle to yourself, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting you again. "Lucas, you idiot," you murmur fondly, navigating to his contact and pressing dial.

"Y/n?" He sounds kind of small and sad when he picks up, and you can't help but feel bad for him.

That being said, the feeling absolutely does not eclipse your need to make fun of him. "This is all your fault. You know that, right?" you start. "How was I supposed to know what you meant? I thought you meant, 'I'm Lucas and, like always, I'm sick of studying. Y/n, won't you come with me to procrastinate by doing god-knows-what?'" 

To your relief, he chuckles. "Yeah, I guess that does sound like me," he admits. "Sorry. I just--you caught the candy so perfectly, even though I gave you no warning, and then you just--curled back up in your chair with your book, and it was so sweet, and so you . And I was just like. it. I don't know. I guess I haven't just been studying with you. I've made a habit of just... studying you."

You smile at the confession, at the idea that he knew your habits, and even better, found them endearing. 

He's still talking, though. "--don't want to, you know? I'm happy to just stay friends, too."

"Lucas," you interrupt. "I do want to."

"I mean-- wait, what?"

You suppress laughter. "I'm saying yes, . Let's go on a date tomorrow. I mean it."

"W--really?" The tension leaves his voice, and you can hear his smile. "Okay, uh, where? When?"

"We can go out for coffee," you suggest.

"No, that's not special! I'll think of something." Suddenly his tone grows serious. "Now go to bed! It's late."

"All right," you agree. "You too, ok? See you after class."

________________

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He ends up greeting you with a bag of the candies he'd been giving you the night before, and two movie tickets. They're for a new Marvel movie, and you laugh when he shuffles his feet.

"I wasn't sure which ones to buy," he says. "But I thought I remembered you saying you liked the Avengers, so--"

"I do, I do," you reassure him, linking your arm through his. "Now c'mon, I don't wanna miss the previews!"

You stroll to the theater together, arm in arm. He gets popcorn and you settle into your seats--right in the middle, about halfway up, happily agreeing that they're the best ones. You chat quietly through the previews, making fun the movies that look stupid, and pointing out the ones you want to see. 

Once the movie starts, you become intensely aware of your hands. Your left hand rests just inches from his right, but suddenly you're paralyzed. He must notice or something, though, because after a few minutes he links your hands decisively and gives you a shy smile. It's silly and a little awkward, and you can't help but shoot him a grin in response. You spend the rest of the movie with your fingers interlocked, your head knocking lightly against his shoulder when you giggle about what's happening on screen.

After, you get sushi for dinner (he suggested it with a laugh, because it sounds like his Chinese name), and you spend the time pointing out every single plot hole in the movie. Lucas just shakes his head, saying, "It's a superhero movie, Y/N. It's not that deep."

"No, it's not," you agree, chasing an elusive piece of sashimi around your plate with your chopsticks. "But I'm just saying, some plot continuity or like, good writing would be nice for once."

Though he paid for the tickets and the snacks, he insists on paying for dinner too, and when that's all settled, he walks you back to your dorm.

You linger outside your door for a moment, as he insists he shouldn't come in because then he'll never leave.

"So... did I pass?" he asks.

"Pass?"

"Tonight. Do I get a second date?" 

"Yes, dummy," you say. "Really. I had fun."

"Oh, good." He smiles, big and happy as always, and almost moves to leave, but hesitates. There's an awkward breath between you, but then he leans in and presses a swift, chaste kiss to your lips, cupping your cheek briefly with one of his pretty, pretty hands. "Sleep well, then. I'll see you tomorrow."

You wave, too breathless to reply verbally right away. "Get home safe!" you finally call after him, blushing furiously, and ducking into your room, slumping against your door once it clicks shut.

And you smile, lips tingling from the kiss and cheeks burning from your racing thoughts.

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(A/N): thank u for reading! you can find me on tumblr here and you can buy me a coffee here! pls feel free to look at my other works if you like my writing!