UNIVERSITY: A College AU

Part 1, Ch 2: Names

Waking up at 8, you feel the sun coming through the blinds. At least it's not rain today. You pull your hair up, combing it through. Pulling on your white shirt and black trousers, you spot the sweatshirt and pick it up to refold it after Candace haphazardly threw it back onto your desk last night before continuing on your routine. You put the kettle on and let it boil as you sit down to fold the hoodie. It's quite well made, thin but sturdy. Dark green lines around the hems and some quite delicate embroidery. It's also a bit of a mess and fraying in some places. The scent of spices waft from it every time you turn it around or fold it. This guy must really know how to cook. It makes your stomach rumble.

°°°°

Time jump, late morning

After donning a cozy autumn-colored sweater, you set out. 10:30 am. You swing your bag over your shoulder and set out towards the music and arts building. It takes a while to walk to, on top of a hill overlooking the pond. It's not a difficult task. You just have to give him the hoodie then leave. But then what. Should you say anything? What will he look like? What will he be wearing? What should you say? Why are you so nervous anyways? Your watch reads 10:45 as you arrive to the building. You go in, trying to find the hall. It's pretty easy to track down, it's the only class being run right now so the soft voice floating through the halls isn't hard to follow.

You stand outside the doors and peek into the small window of the door. Students mull about the seats, looking at papers. The professor, a burly man, is on stage. The melody wafting through the halls seems to come from the small figure next to the professor, who you missed at first glance in their dark attire. Looking closer, you see a familiar silhouette and the curls you'd been thinking about. You wonder why he never puts them up. Then you remember, it's the hoodie. This must be the first time in a while the class has seen him without it. You notice some muttering and people watching, but mostly minding their own business. That's the guy, wearing a knit sweater and trousers. A small pot of anxiety sits in your stomach as you watch. I'm just here to give him the hoodie and leave. You see your roommate approach him at the end, and they both glance towards the door. The other one. You realize you went to the wrong entrance. With a groan, you start to walk over.

Turning the corner, you see a sliver of light as the door creaks open. You run and hold it open, seeing a chance to get into the room. Instead, you find yourself face to face with Bruno.

His shoulders, which had been relaxed, shot up, on guard again. The turtleneck is a navy black, loose but flattering. You see a sparkle and realize he has a small black earrings, hidden behind his hair. That's kind of... cute. He jumps back. Clearly on edge.

"AH. I uh. I'm sorry."

"I came to return this to you. Sorry for taking off so quick yesterday," you say, holding out the hoodie. He takes it and puts it on faster than you thought was humanly possible.

"Oh thank goodness I missed this. Thanks.... and no, that was me... I got nervous and left."

"You didn't have to."

"Buuut I did."

Awkward silence fills the air. You try to guage his expression. He makes eye contact and instead turns on his heels and heads the other way.

"Okay. Bye." He calls, already rounding the corner. This guy was fast.

"Bye Bruno." You mutter. You think you hear him stop for a second, then see his head peek and the corner.

"What's your name again?"

"Y/n".

He mutters it to himself and disappears again.

You head to lunch, almost hoping to get a glimpse of Bruno again. You don't, but that doesn't stop you from glimpsing around the cafeteria as you eat your meal. Your heart skips as you see an almost Bruno... but no. Not him. Why are you feeling this way about some man who barely speaks and seems to be more anxiety than human? You thought you were anxious, but... yikes. But his eyes are so soft, and while he is a mess... there is a charm. You bury your head in your hands and pick away at your noodles. You don't have time to get caught up on anyone, and try to drown out your thoughts by putting on your earbuds and blasting your favorite playlist.

You head to class, somewhat crestfallen. The sun is nice, and the few pigeons you see hanging around the courtyard seem to be enjoying it too. Maybe you should ask Bruno for a study session. Or not. Maybe it'll be too awkward. Your face burns a little with a flush and you sigh. Maybe you should ignore it and continue on with your own life.

You reach the lecture hall, and walk up the stairs to your seat. You're earlier than usual, there's nobody there as you walk into the dark room. You sigh and walk to the seat you usually take, middle row against the wall. You set up your stuff and rest your head on the desk to wait, staring at the chalkboard still covered in notes from the last class. The door clicks closed and you see a green blur dart into the center and up the stairs, pausing when it sees you. It's hoodie boy. You pretend not to see him and stare forward as he darts up to the way back and you hear him sit. Maybe he didn't recognize you. But since when was he in this class? You think it over, wracking your brain. You feel your heart flitter jn your chest. Feeling a bit excited to share a class, but also guilty that you hadn't noticed him before. But that was probably of his own design. Seems pretty elusive. But still. You knew that hoodie now. And that was definitely him. Other students slowly begin to filter in.

A quiet clink and some shuffling tells you that a student has sat down at the desk directly behind you. Weird place to sit with a completely open lecture hall. But whatever. You continue to start forward as the others file in, including the teacher. The class starts and the buzz dies down. Some frat boys get yelled at to shut up, as per usual.

The teachers voice drones on, listing dates and names that you write down. You feel eyes on you. Are people looking at you? You want to look back but feel the familiar anxiety of possibile eye contact. You feel something hit your foot and chance a look down. It's a crumpled ball of paper, and you gingerly pick it up and open it. The writing is messy but readable.

"Hi y/n! It's Bruno. Sorry for being rude yesterday. Please stay for a bit after class."

You feel yourself flush. Was the campus cryptid of a guy... asking you to talk with him? What did he want to talk about? You chance a look back and see him behind you, hood up, eyes wide as ever. He smiles and waves awkwardly. You smile back and hope your flush isn't obvious.

The rest of class goes by painfully slowly.