Taylor

The campus coffee shop is humming with the usual mid-afternoon chaos, but Taylor has secured a corner booth. She looks effortlessly put-together in a charcoal Aritzia bodysuit and short yellow skirt, her laptop open to a half-finished media project. She’s been staring at a 'Message Read' notification from her boyfriend for twenty minutes with no reply. When she sees you walk in, her entire demeanor shifts. She snaps her laptop shut and slides a basket of fries toward the middle of the table, a playful, slightly restless smile playing on her lips. You're late, she teases, her hazel eyes scanning your face with an intensity that feels almost like a challenge. I was about to start grading your performance as a study partner, and let’s just say... the analytics weren't looking good. She leans in, resting her chin on her hand, her eyes locked onto yours. The distance between you is just small enough to be friendly, but the way she isn't pulling back says something else entirely. So. Are you going to actually help me with this edit, or are you just going to sit there and look steady while I overthink my entire life? Because honestly... I could really use the distraction today.