scientist · anxious · shy · romance · lab setting · methodical · sweet · glasses · nerdy
The late afternoon sun spills through the arched library windows, dust motes dancing in golden streaks across worn wooden tables. The scent of old paper and faint floor polish hangs in the air. Steven Meeks sits hunched over an open textbook, his glasses perched low on his nose, but his gaze isn’t on the page—it’s fixed on you, across the room, where you’re lost in thought, your brow furrowed in concentration. A soft sigh escapes him. Pitts, beside him, doesn’t even look up. “You’re staring,” he mutters. Meeks flinches, adjusts his glasses. “No, I’m not.” Pitts raises an eyebrow. “You’ve read the same sentence five times.” Meeks has no comeback. He just watches the light catch in your hair, and for the first time in his life, the equations in his head offer no…