Leila stood there, mesmerized by Jesci.
His smile was intoxicating, like a drug she couldn't get enough of. Every time his lips curved into that slight smirk, it sent a flutter through her chest that she couldn't quite shake. She found herself wanting him to never stop smiling, to keep that playful glint in his eyes just for her.

Jesci, sensing the tension in the air, chuckled softly, breaking the silence. "I'll just grab a shirt from Dane's room," he said casually. Without waiting for her to respond, he turned and gestured for her to follow him down the hallway and up the stairs. Leila hesitated for a moment, her heart still racing from their unexpected moment in the bathroom, but she quickly followed after him.

They reached Dane's room, and as soon as Jesci opened the door, Leila's nose was hit with a mix of stale air and laundry that hadn't been done in weeks. The room was exactly what she had imagined a typical boy's room to look like—messy, cluttered, and slightly disgusting. Clothes were strewn across the floor, empty snack wrappers and drink cans littered the surfaces, and the faint smell of cologne mixed with sweat hung in the air.

Leila gingerly moved aside some crumpled pieces of clothing with her foot, feeling out of place in the chaotic environment. She watched as Jesci nonchalantly walked over to Dane's dresser and started rifling through the drawers, searching for a clean shirt. His movements were fluid, confident, as if the mess surrounding him didn't faze him in the slightest.

And then, in one swift motion, he pulled his damp shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

Leila's breath caught in her throat.

Her cheeks flushed bright red as she found herself staring at his bare torso. Jesci's entire body was covered in tattoos— intricate designs that sprawled across his chest, snaked down his arms, and decorated his back. Each one seemed to tell a story, though Leila was far too flustered to focus on the details. She didn't know where to look—part of her wanted to avert her gaze, to give him some privacy, but another part of her couldn't tear her eyes away. She'd never been this close to someone like him before, someone so raw and unapologetically himself.

Jesci, sensing her gaze on him, turned and gave her a knowing smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You okay there?" he asked, his voice teasing but gentle, as if he enjoyed the effect he was having on her.

Leila swallowed hard, trying to regain her composure. "Y-Yeah," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... wasn't expecting that."

Jesci chuckled, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. "What, never seen a guy covered in tattoos before?" he asked, his tone playful as he held up a clean shirt, casually tossing it over his shoulder.

Leila shook her head, still trying to gather her thoughts. "Not like this."

Leila stood frozen, her eyes locked on Jesci's chest, taking in the ink that decorated every inch of his skin. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as she realized she was staring, but she couldn't help it. There was something captivating about the way his tattoos flowed across his body, like a carefully crafted masterpiece.

Jesci caught her staring and smirked, the amusement clear in his eyes. "You're not much for small talk, are you?" he teased lightly, his voice low and smooth.

Leila swallowed hard, her heart racing. "No, I guess not," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jesci stepped closer to her, the playful glint in his eyes softening just a little. "You don't have to be so nervous around me, you know," he murmured. His words were casual, but there was an intensity behind them that made Leila's pulse quicken even more.

"I'm not nervous," Leila lied, though she knew the tremble in her voice gave her away.

Jesci chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "You're not a very good liar either," he said, his lips curving into that familiar, infuriating smile.

Leila felt her face grow even hotter as she looked away, trying to compose herself. She wasn't used to feeling so flustered, especially not around someone like Jesci. There was something about him—something about the way he moved, the way he looked at her—that made her feel like the ground had shifted beneath her feet.

Jesci grabbed a clean shirt from Dane's drawer, but instead of immediately putting it on, he stepped closer again, his bare chest just inches from her. Leila's breath hitched as she felt the heat radiating off his skin, her eyes instinctively drawn to the intricate patterns of his tattoos.

"Why are you so nervous?" Jesci asked, his voice softer now, almost as if he genuinely wanted to know.

Leila met his gaze, her heart pounding. "I don't usually... do this," she admitted, her voice faltering slightly. "I don't usually drag guys into bathrooms and... well, you know."

Jesci's smirk widened as he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You don't seem like the type," he said, his eyes searching hers. "But that doesn't mean you don't want to."

Leila's breath caught in her throat as his words lingered in the air between them. She didn't know how to respond—didn't know if she even wanted to respond. The truth was, there was a part of her that was undeniably drawn to him, a part of her that wanted to let go, to stop overthinking and just see where this strange, magnetic pull would take her.

But then there was the other part—the part that knew Jesci was dangerous in a way she couldn't quite put into words. He was trouble, and she wasn't sure she was ready to dive headfirst into whatever mess he might bring into her life.

Jesci seemed to sense her hesitation, and with a small sigh, he stepped back, finally pulling the clean shirt over his head. "Relax," he said, his tone lighter now. "I'm not going to bite."

Leila let out a small, nervous laugh, though her heart was still racing. She wasn't sure what was happening between them, but she knew it was dangerous territory. Jesci wasn't the kind of guy she usually found herself drawn to, but there was no denying the tension that hung in the air between them.

As he adjusted his shirt, Jesci glanced at her again, his smirk returning. "Come on," he said, his voice playful once more. "We can't hide up here all night."

Leila nodded, her mind still spinning as she followed him out of the room. But as they made their way back downstairs, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed—that whatever had just passed between them was only the beginning.

As Jesci and Leila settled into their seats in the lounge, the hum of the party around them faded into the background. The lights flickered over the crowd, the bass of the music vibrating through the floor, but all of it felt distant compared to the closeness between them. Jesci, ever casual, placed his hand on her thigh as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Leila's breath hitched, but Jesci carried on the conversation smoothly, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

"So, how are you finding the essay we have to do?" Jesci asked, his tone calm, almost curious.

Leila blinked, forcing herself to focus on the words despite the distraction of his touch. "It's... going well. I really like diving into topics I don't know much about. It's challenging, but I'm enjoying it," she said, her voice steadying as she talked about something familiar.

Jesci nodded, taking a slow sip from his drink, clearly impressed. "I've got to say, it's not every day you meet a first-year who gets bumped up into an advanced class like that. Heard about it before, but never met anyone who's done it."

Leila smiled, feeling a small swell of pride. "Yeah, it's definitely been a lot of work. But I guess I like that—I like feeling like I'm learning something new every day, like I'm pushing myself."

Jesci's hand remained on her thigh, his thumb brushing against the fabric of her shorts, but he didn't mention it. He didn't need to. For him, it was as if their conversation and his touch were seamlessly intertwined.

"You definitely seem like someone who thrives on that kind of challenge," Jesci remarked, leaning back slightly, his eyes watching her closely.

Leila felt her pulse quicken but pushed through it, trying to keep the conversation on safer ground. "University's been great so far, but there are definitely things I don't like... the constant balancing act, for one. It's like you have to juggle everything—assignments, social life, just trying to find time for yourself in the middle of it all."

Jesci smirked, leaning forward just a bit. "Yeah, I get that. It's easy to lose track of yourself when you're trying to keep up with everything. But sounds like you've got it figured out."

"Some days it feels like I do," Leila admitted with a soft laugh, "other days, not so much."

Jesci tilted his head, considering her answer as he took another swig of his drink. "You'll get there. You're already ahead of most people, anyway."

Leila smiled, the conversation flowing more naturally now, though she couldn't ignore the heat of his hand still resting against her. Despite the distraction, she found herself more at ease, Jesci's presence pulling her into a comfortable rhythm, as if they had done this a hundred times before.

Jesci found himself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts as he sat there, his hand still resting on Leila's inner thigh, his thumb brushing back and forth over her soft skin. It was all happening so fast. It had started with a simple "hey" at the beginning of the week, and now, here he was, sitting this close, feeling her warmth, her presence wrapping around him like a magnetic force.

He couldn't shake the feeling that maybe this was all a little too much, too soon. His mind waged an internal war—could he blame it on the alcohol? They had both been drinking, after all, and he knew that when alcohol was involved, lines tended to blur. But deep down, he also knew there was something more to this—something he couldn't easily dismiss.

Was he coming on too strong? He didn't want to, but at the same time, it felt impossible to pull away. He liked Leila, that much was clear. He'd been thinking about her far more than he was comfortable admitting, and now, being here with her, his resolve was slipping. Jesci knew himself well enough to recognize that he usually had a handle on these kinds of situations. He never let things get complicated—he kept his distance, played it cool, never overthought it. But with Leila, things were different.

He replayed the events of the night in his mind. Maybe he should have walked away when she spilled that drink on him. Maybe he should have avoided this party altogether. But he had an inkling that she would be here, and he couldn't deny the possibility that it was part of the reason he accepted the invitation in the first place. Did he come here just to run into her? Maybe. The thought made his heart beat a little faster.

Leila turned to look at him, her eyes slightly glassy from the alcohol, but there was a softness there—a curiosity that matched his own. He smiled, pushing the thoughts of doubt to the back of his mind, deciding to let the moment play out.

"Was this how you imagined your first week of university going?" Jesci asked, his voice low, as if testing the waters of their connection. His thumb continued its lazy, deliberate motion on her thigh.

Leila laughed softly, shaking her head. "Not exactly," she replied, glancing down at his hand, her breath catching just slightly. "But I guess that's part of the fun, right? Not knowing what's going to happen next."

Jesci's smile deepened. "Yeah... something like that."