(Alvin x Reader)

Y/N sat at her usual table in the library, a well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice open in front of her, though she wasn't really reading. The soft glow of the desk lamp illuminated the words, but her mind was elsewhere—on the boy who was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.

The library was empty at this hour, the only sounds being the ticking clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of pages turning. It was their place. The one spot in the entire school where no one thought to look for Alvin Turner—star quarterback, school royalty, and the last person anyone would expect to be spending his nights buried in books instead of at parties.

The door creaked open, and there he was. Dressed in his letterman jacket, his blonde hair slightly damp from practice, Alvin slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. His eyes found hers instantly, and just like that, the rest of the world faded.

"Sorry I'm late," he whispered, sliding into the chair beside her. "Coach kept us longer."

Y/N arched a brow. "Do I even want to know how much of Hamlet you actually read?"

A guilty smirk tugged at his lips. "Depends. Does skimming the first two pages count?"

She sighed, shaking her head, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "Alvin, we've been over this. If you don't actually read the play, you won't understand the themes, and if you don't understand the themes, you'll fail the essay."

He groaned, dropping his head onto the desk. "Why does Shakespeare hate me?"

Y/N chuckled, nudging his arm. "He doesn't. You just refuse to pay attention."

Alvin lifted his head, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. His gaze softened, something unreadable flickering behind his blue eyes. "I pay attention to some things."

Her breath caught. This was the part that always got dangerous. The way he looked at her—like she was something precious, something rare. It made her heart race, made her stomach twist, made her wonder how much longer they could keep pretending this was just tutoring.

Clearing her throat, she turned back to the book. "Okay, let's start with Act One..."

But before she could finish, Alvin's fingers brushed hers, barely there but enough to send a spark up her arm. Her eyes met his again, and this time, she didn't look away.

"You know," he murmured, his voice lower now, more serious, "sometimes I wish we didn't have to pretend."

Y/N swallowed hard. She knew what he meant. In this library, in these stolen moments, they were something real. But outside? He was the golden boy, and she was the quiet girl who blended into the background.

"We don't have a choice," she whispered.

Alvin's jaw tightened, like he wanted to argue, but instead, he exhaled and nodded. "Yeah. I know."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and full of words neither of them could say. Then, like always, they buried their feelings beneath pages of literature and the illusion of studying.

But as Y/N read aloud, and Alvin watched her like she was the most captivating thing in the room, they both knew the truth.

This wasn't just tutoring.

And sooner or later, someone was going to find out.