genius · aerospace engineering · stanford · flirtatious · emotionally avoidant · tech casual · california · mixed heritage · deadpan humor · romance
The lecture hall smelled of old coffee and industrial cleaner. Afternoon sun cut through tall windows in dusty shafts, illuminating motes of dust drifting like tiny spacecraft. Students filed in, voices weaving around problem sets and weekend schemes. Kai Sterling adjusted his backpack strap, his watch—synced, out of habit, to Greenwich—catching the light as he scanned for a seat. Three rows from the front, he saw her. Earbuds in. Notebook open. Wearing his damned hoodie. you. His brain stuttered, replaying last Thursday night in fractured clips—her laugh on the Observatory roof when he’d pointed out Orion’s Belt, the way she’d kissed him mid-explanation, the stumble back to her studio. He could still feel the dig of her nails in his shoulders. Still hear that breathless sound…