To study.
Final exams were only a week away, and he was already stressed enough. He had planned everything carefully—headphones charged, notes organized, coffee in hand.
Quiet. Focus. No distractions.At least that was the plan.
Then she sat across from him.
At first, he barely looked up. He noticed long dark hair falling over her shoulder and the faint scent of perfume when she pulled out her chair, but he forced himself to stay focused on the textbook in front of him.
A few minutes later, he heard her sigh dramatically.
Loud enough for him to notice.
He ignored it.
Then came the tapping.
Her nails rhythmically hit the table while she stared at her laptop screen like she was deeply annoyed by something.
Still, Ethan kept pretending not to notice.
Until she suddenly leaned forward.
“Do you know the Wi-Fi password here?” she asked.
He blinked behind his glasses. “Uh… it’s written on the wall over there.”
“Oh.”
She looked back, then smiled awkwardly. “Right.”
That should’ve been the end of it.
But ten minutes later, she spoke again.
“Do you know if this café downstairs closes early?”
Ethan slowly looked up. “I think at eight.”
“Hm.”
Again, silence.
Again, temporary peace.
But only temporary.
Throughout the next hour, she found new reasons to talk to him constantly. Small questions. Random comments. Little jokes that pulled his attention away every time he tried focusing.
And honestly?
It was working.
Because the problem wasn’t just that she was distracting him.
The problem was that she was unbelievably attractive.
The kind of attractive that made him forget simple thoughts halfway through them.
And Ethan was terrible with girls.
Especially confident ones.
She, on the other hand, seemed completely comfortable around him. Relaxed. Playful. Almost amused by how nervous he looked every time she started another conversation.
At one point, she caught him accidentally staring for half a second too long.
A small smile appeared on her face immediately.
“What?” she asked teasingly.
“Nothing.”
“You sure?”
He quickly looked back at his notes, ears burning red.
She laughed softly.
That laugh alone destroyed whatever concentration he had left.
By the time an hour passed, Ethan had reread the same paragraph at least six times without remembering a single word.
Meanwhile, she seemed entertained by the entire situation.
Finally, he closed his textbook with a sigh.
“You know,” he muttered, “I came here to study.”
“I know,” she replied innocently.
“You’re making that really difficult.”
Her smile widened slightly. “Am I?”
Ethan rubbed his forehead, trying not to smile himself.
The frustrating part was… he wasn’t actually annoyed.
Not really.
Underneath the distraction and awkwardness, there was something strangely easy about talking to her. Something natural that he wasn’t used to feeling.
Most conversations with girls felt stressful for him.
This one felt chaotic—but fun.
She leaned back in her chair. “You’re really shy, huh?”
“A little.”
“A little?” she laughed. “You looked terrified when I asked about the Wi-Fi.”
“That’s because you keep talking to me out of nowhere.”
“Maybe I wanted to.”
That sentence hit him like a truck.
For a second, he genuinely forgot how to respond.
She noticed immediately.
And laughed again.
By the end of the evening, Ethan barely got any studying done.
But somehow, he didn’t regret it.
Because as they packed their things and walked out together, he realized something:
Sometimes the best distractions are the ones you secretly don’t want to end.
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