𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 | 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚢

The second day of our project with Navan was as chaotic as yesterday. We were supposed to be working at his dorm instead of my room, with its messy desk and overflowing bookshelves, which have been basically turned to an office. Navan, however, seemed unfazed by the chaos. He sprawled across my bed, his long legs dangling over the edge, his gaze fixed on the laptop screen.

"We need to come up with a catchy slogan," he said, his voice deep and slightly husky. "Something that will grab people's attention."

"How about, 'Save the Planet, One Cup at a Time'?" I suggested, trying to sound enthusiastic.

Navan snorted. "That's a bit cheesy, don't you think?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'Sustainable Sips for a Greener Future,'" I countered, trying to suppress a sigh.

"Still too cheesy," he said, shaking his head. "We need something edgy, something that will make people think."

"How about 'Drink Up, Planet?'" I suggested, a mischievous glint in my eye.

Navan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "That's not bad," he admitted. "But I still think we can do better."

He leaned back, his gaze drifting towards the window. "Maybe we should brainstorm outside," he suggested, his voice laced with a hint of boredom.

"We're supposed to be working on this project," I reminded him, my voice tinged with annoyance. "Not taking a coffee break."

"Relax, Loly," he smiled. "We'll get it done. But first, I need a break."

He stood up, his tall frame filling the doorway. "I'm going to grab a coffee," he leaned on the doorway. "Want anything?"

"No, thanks," I replied, my gaze fixed on the laptop screen. "I'm good."

He winked, then disappeared out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a growing sense of frustration.

Just then, my phone buzzed. It was my biology professor, Dr. Jones. He's one of the top professors in our school, and he's helping me finish my final project by sharing his lab with me.

"I need you to grab something for me," he said, his voice urgent. "It's in the back room, on the top shelf."

"Sure, Professor," I replied, my voice hesitant. "I'll be right there."

I grabbed my bag and headed out, my mind still swirling with thoughts of Navan and his infuriatingly casual attitude.

As I walked through the hallway, I spotted Nessa's art class. She was sketching a still life, her brow furrowed in concentration. I couldn't resist the urge to complain.

"Nessa, you won't believe what's happening," I said, my voice laced with exasperation. "Navan is driving me crazy."

"What's he doing now?" Nessa asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"He's taking a coffee break," I said, rolling my eyes. "While I'm stuck here, trying to come up with a catchy slogan for our project."

Nessa chuckled. "Sounds like a classic Navan move," she said, her voice laced with a hint of sympathy. "You know, you should just tell him to get back to work."

"I tried," I said, shaking my head. "But he's not listening. He's got this whole 'I'm-too-cool-for-school' attitude."

"Maybe he's just trying to impress you," Nessa teased, her eyes widening. "You know, with his casual charm and his nonchalant attitude."

"Don't be ridiculous," I replied, my cheeks flushing slightly. "He's just a typical football player, and besides I hate him, remember?"

"Maybe," Nessa said, her voice thoughtful. "But maybe he's just trying to hide his feelings."