Leaning against my apartment door, I let out a sigh of relief, as I waited in the safety of my apartment before I was able to retract back out to head to campus.

I could vividly recall another instance of sheer mortification which was a result of the universe placing Harry and I in the same apartment building. I strode down the hallway, I spotted the elevator doors closing in front of me. Panic surged through me. Missing the elevator would mean a few precious minutes wasted, and I had a lecture to catch. In a desperate bid, I sprinted, my heart racing, and my breaths coming in short, frantic bursts.

My hand shot out, instinctively attempting to halt the elevator's relentless descent. I couldn't let it slip away from me, not today. My fingers grazed the edge of the closing doors, and I felt a surge of hope. Perhaps I could make it after all.

Just as I thought I had a fighting chance, the doors began to relent. They pulled back in obedience to the hand that held them open for me. Revealing a figure inside the elevator, a figure that sent a jolt of dread through my veins. It was Harry.

In that split second, our eyes locked, and a chill swept over me. His face was a mixture of surprise and annoyance, a sentiment I knew all too well. For a moment, his hand held the door, and I could feel the elevator's reluctant pause, as if it were deciding whether to let me in or not.

As if on cue, his expression darkened, and with a swift motion, he retracted his hand. The elevator doors resumed their merciless descent, shutting in front of me. The sound of their final click echoed in the empty hallway.

I was left standing there, panting and defeated. With a heavy sigh, I resigned myself to the inevitable. I'd have to wait for the next elevator.

"Evening, Muffin," Harry's voice brought me back to reality, voice dripping with sarcasm once he reached me. My jaw clenched as I bit my lip from making a comment and giving him the satisfaction of knowing it still bothered me. That stupid name. 

The nickname was born when I sent a muffin flying across the lecture classroom. I was walking into the lecture hall with a muffin in one hand and my notes in the other. But, as soon as I took a step, I tripped on my own foot and sent the muffin flying out of my hand. It went rolling down the aisle and ended up right at Harry's feet.

He picked up the muffin, examining it for a moment before turning to me with a smirk. "Well, well, well, look who we have here. Muffin."

I groaned in embarrassment and tried to play it cool. "Ha ha, very funny, Harry," I said, rolling my eyes.

But he continued to tease me throughout the lecture, calling me Muffin every chance he got. I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment, and I could tell that everyone around us was starting to notice. After class, I confronted Harry about his constant teasing. "Why do you have to be so annoying all the time, Harry?" I asked, frustrated.

He just laughed. "Come on, Muffin, don't be mad. It's just a nickname. Besides, you have to admit, it's kind of fitting after what happened earlier."

I scowled at him, but secretly, I couldn't help but find his teasing a little bit endearing. It was the only time Harry had happened to be smiling and laughing in front of me, though it still came at my own expense. "Fine, but only if you promise to stop calling me that in public," I said, crossing my arms, throwing my head back to display my annoyance.

Harry grinned. "Deal. But in private, you're still Muffin to me." He winked. And with that, he walked away, leaving me blushing and shaking my head. What the hell was that?

We continued down the apartment hallway in silence, heading to the library to work on our assignment. The destination was not far enough for me to make the effort to dig through my backpack for my headphones to tune out the slightly uncomfortable silence that loomed over us. 

Harry constantly bumped into me as we walked down the path. From knowing Harry for the short amount of time I have, I learned this man cannot walk properly and always ends up diagonally regardless of the path being a straight shot.

"Quit it" I exclaimed, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to let him go ahead.

When we got there, we both made a beeline to the table in the back corner, far away from any distractions, the only thing we managed to silently agree on when we first began working together. I pulled out my laptop and started typing away, trying my best to ignore Harry's presence. But of course it's not long before we started bickering. Harry kept interrupting me, criticizing my ideas and telling me what to do.

"I don't understand why you can't just listen to my ideas for once," I spoke calmly and steadily, masking the exasperation I felt.

"Because your ideas are terrible," Harry retorted, his tone laced with mockery. "Honestly, do you even know what you're talking about?"

I gritted my teeth, my annoyance with him growing by the second. "Of course I know what I'm talking about, Harry. I've done my research, and I think my ideas are just as valid as yours."

He let out a loud scoff, his eyes narrowing. "Please, Evelia. Your ideas are about as effective as a waterproof sponge." It's quite clear that we don't see eye-to-eye on anything.

"Don't call me that," I growled, fists clenching as the feeling of anger boiled inside of me. "And you know what, Harry? Maybe if you weren't so closed-minded and actually listened to me, we could make some real progress on this project."

He leaned back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. "I think I'll stick to my own ideas, thanks. At least they won't lead us down the path of failure." The more he spoke, I felt my muscles tightening. God can he just shut up.

"Well if you stopped interrupting me then maybe this could be over and done with, then we won't have to see each other."

"What's your problem?" He snapped.

"You're my problem," I fired back. "You can't just come in here and take over. We're supposed to be working together."

"Well if you could stop being incompetent, then I wouldn't have to consistently fix everything you do wrong." I bristled at his words, feeling a familiar sense of inadequacy creeping up on me. I let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that this argument wasn't going anywhere. Working with Harry was definitely a real challenge, but I kept reminding myself this was only for a couple more weeks, so I let out a breath trying to calm myself.

Harry's words sent a wave of emotions through me, hitting me where they hurt. My confidence has been struggling ever since my ex-boyfriend, Riley. He was always quick to belittle me, making me feel stupid and useless. I remembered the countless nights spent in tears, trying to make sense of his hurtful words. His snide comments about my appearance, intelligence, and even my hobbies had always cut deep. It was like he took pleasure in seeing me suffer. He made me doubt myself at every turn, and it's taken me so long to regain the self-confidence he stole from me. He was always putting me down and telling me I wasn't good enough. And now, Harry's words were triggering those same feelings.

"Fuck you." Reaching for my papers, books, and laptop, I began packing it all up wanting to get the hell out of there as possible.

 My face flushed with anger but my head was also swarming with not only Harry's comment but also Rileys words he had thrown at my face. My throat felt like it was closing up on me as I swung my bag over onto my shoulders. I rushed out of the library leaving no room for Harry to spew out another jab.

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a/n: me personality would be on my knees if harry ever called me muffin

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