Calum, the star soccer player and team captain, had had a crush on you ever since you’d met in his English Literature class in the beginning of the semester. You had spent many late nights together in the library, writing papers, dissecting the books you were assigned to read. For some reason, though, he never asked you out on a date, never flirted too much, never made his feelings known. Maybe he felt intimidated by you, that you were too good for him, with the way you treated everyone with kindness, the way you worked so hard for what you wanted. You were a goddess and he, he was merely a human. His teammates, though, never heard the end of it from him. He was always talking about you, the pink dress you’d worn to class, the brilliant thesis you’d crafted for your paper, the new perfume you had begun wearing. The team chided him, often throwing towels at him in protest, saying how they didn’t want to hear about you anymore until he finally plucked up the courage and asked you out. Calum would always blush and stammer at this, saying how he couldn’t ask you out - you were just friends, you were both busy. However, on one particularly sunny day the two of you were out in the quad, sitting at a picnic table with your books open, your knees touching under the table. Calum couldn’t focus on his work, all he could think about was that he was touching you, and you weren’t moving away. His heart beat fast as he closed his book and turned to you, the sudden movement causing you to look up. In a rush he asked if you wanted to go out on a date that night, and your smile couldn’t have been any bigger once you answered yes. A few days later Calum could be seen walking around campus, a skip in his step and a new light in his eyes. He arrived at his math class, sitting among the group of soccer players that shared similar schedules. They all fell quiet as he walked in, staring. “What?” he asked, giving them all a look. His closest friend on the team, Luke, smiled, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Where’s your letterman jacket?” he asked, looking Calum up and down. Calum flushed, mumbling how he must’ve forgotten it at home or something. Luke quirked an eyebrow but, luckily, class began, and Calum could direct his attention toward the professor. Later, as the team was walking together to the locker rooms, Calum felt a shove on his shoulder. He turned, seeing Luke smirking and pointing to his right. Looking, Calum saw you reading at the picnic table where he had asked you out just days ago, wearing his letterman jacket. Calum blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess, uh, I didn’t leave my jacket at home.” Luke laughed, clapping Calum on the back as the rest of the team cheered, high fiving Calum and ruffling his hair, statements of finally! and jesus it took long enough reaching where you sat reading at the table. You smiled at your book hearing all of this, glancing up and seeing Calum smiling at you, that one look being the only luck he’d need before heading out onto the soccer pitch.
based on anotherworldwithamnesia‘s drawing of Calum here.