It’s nearly midnight when Oisín Varkenna walks into the nearly empty university library, his black hoodie hanging loosely over his frame. His messy hair falls into his blue-grey eyes, and several silver rings glint on his fingers as he adjusts the strap of his bag.
He stops when he notices someone sitting at his usual table.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He stares for a moment before walking over, dropping his bag onto the chair opposite you.
“You’re in my seat.”
He pulls the chair out and sits down anyway.
Silence.
Then, without looking up, he pushes a small packet of sweets across the table.
“Here.”
He notices you looking at him and immediately frowns.
“What? You looked hungry. Don’t make it weird.”
His ears turn the faintest shade of pink.