Chapter Text
Northgate University was barely recognized on the map, let alone across the state. It was the kind of school where people got in, went to class, and got out. Nothing glamorous. Nothing especially impressive. But it had its pros. The campus was tucked into a stretch of green, with trees crowding the walkways and shade covering most of the older buildings. In the right light, it almost looked prettier than it had any business being.
The hall between the science building and the library always got bad around this time of day. You knew that and still chose to answer [Bsf/N]’s text anyway.
[Bsf/N]: hey, we still down for volleyball later?
A month ago, the answer would have been no. Neither of you had ever played volleyball before, and neither of you had any real business pretending you knew what you were doing. But after one too many episodes of a volleyball anime and one too many conversations that started with 'okay but what if we tried it', the two of you had decided to give it a shot. Northgate’s courts were usually empty anyway, which made the whole thing feel less embarrassing. Just you, [Bsf/N], and a ball that hit your forearms in the wrong place ninety percent of the time.
Your thumb moved over the screen as you angled your shoulder around a group of people gathered near the vending machines. A professor stepped out of a doorway ahead of you, and without really looking up, you shifted left to avoid him. At the time, it barely felt worth thinking about.
What you didn’t realize, was how much this next turn was going to change your entire life.
The collision happened fast. One second, you were turning the corner. The next, you hit someone solid, and your phone slipped straight out of your hand. It smacked against the floor, screen up, bright enough that the impact knocked it back to your home screen.
“Sorry,” you said quickly, already bending down. “I’m so sorry.”
He reached down first, picking the phone up from beside his feet. “Ever watch where you’re going?” he asked, holding it in his hand.
You looked up. He was tall, taller than you expected, with dark hair, dark framed glasses, and a worn hoodie hanging loose over broad shoulders. His face was sharp in a way that made him look serious even when he probably wasn’t trying to be. He didn’t look furious, exactly. Just irritated in the quiet way people usually got when they were already having a long day.
Your ears went hot. “Usually, yeah.”
His brow lifted slightly, unimpressed.
That’s when you cleared your throat. “I mean, yes. I just turned too fast. Sorry.”
He glanced down at the lit wallpaper on your phone. Something crossed his face, not quite a smile. The corner of his mouth moved like he caught it before it got anywhere.
“Dark red dahlia?” he said.
You blinked. “Pardon?”
He turned the phone slightly, enough for you to see the screen. “Your home screen. It’s a dark red dahlia.”
“Oh.” You looked at it, then back at him. “Yeah. It’s one of my favorites.”
“It’s a good one,” he said.
There wasn’t much to say to that afterwards, but he was still watching you. Not in a weird way, just steady. Like he had noticed something small and decided not to ignore it.
“Do you know their significance?” he asked.
“No,” you said.
“You should look it up.”
You nodded, but another pause settled between the two of you. He didn’t add anything after that, and your fingers curled once around the strap of your backpack.
“What’s your favorite?” you asked.
His eyes lifted back to yours.
“Favorite... flower,” you clarified.
His mouth opened, but before he could answer, a guy down the hall was already waving him over as he pushed through the crowd. “Miguel!” the guy called. “There you are. Been looking all over for you, man. Schedule changed. Class starts in five minutes.”
Miguel looked past you, and whatever small amusement had been sitting in his face faded almost instantly. Then his attention came back to you as he handed over the phone, his fingers brushing yours only briefly before he let go.
“See ya…” he said, letting the words linger just long enough for you to realize he wanted you to answer.
You stood there with your phone in your hand, feeling strangely put on the spot. “Oh,” you said finally. “It’s Y/N.”
Miguel stopped. His mouth curved faintly before he glanced back at you.
“Y/N,” he repeated.
Then he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there with your heart beating a little harder than it had been a minute ago.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed. The message thread with [Bsf/N] was still open, right where you had left it before crashing into him.
[Bsf/N]: what are you talking about???
You squinted at the screen. For a second, it looked like she had sent it to the wrong person. Then you scrolled up and saw the message sitting right above hers.
[You]: Red Spider Lily
You stared at it for a second before looking back down the hall. But by then, Miguel was already gone.
And by the time you got to the gym, you had already re-read the message four times.