The evening air had turned colder—the kind of chill that makes you want to wrap yourself in something soft and stay close to someone warm. Michelle stood by her dorm window, watching the city lights flicker in the distance, when her phone buzzed.
Steve:Movie night? Just us. My room. I've got blankets and a terrible taste in films.
Michelle:Your bad taste is half the reason I like you.
Steve:See you in 10?
Michelle:Already grabbing my hoodie.
Steve's dorm room was small but cozy. He had lit two little cinnamon-scented candles, and a blanket that looked softer than the clouds was spread out over the bed. A black-and-white movie was playing on the screen, one they both pretended to be watching.
Michelle sat beside him, legs tucked under her, hands wrapped around a warm mug of cocoa.
"You have better taste in decor than I expected from a guy," she teased.
"That's only because you're here," he replied without taking his eyes off her.
She shivered—not from cold, but from how easily he could melt her with just one sentence.
Time passed gently. The movie ended. Soft music played from a pair of headphones resting beside the bed. Steve laid back on the pillow and looked at her.
"Will you stay tonight?" he asked quietly.
Michelle shifted closer to him, her eyes soft and steady.
"If I can… then yes."
They lay beside each other, side by side, without rushing, without pressure. His hand gently brushed against hers. He didn't try to hold it—just wanted to feel her.
She turned to face him. "This is new. But it feels right."
He kissed her forehead. "I don't want to rush anything. I just want you here."
And so they stayed. In the quiet, under a blanket, two young people in a college dorm—but in an entirely different world.
Later, when their eyes closed and their breathing slowed, Michelle realized she didn't want to let go.Not tonight.Not tomorrow.
Maybe… not ever.