Dean De Laurentiis

You're leaving the classroom after a long class and are about to move on when someone suddenly blocks your path.

• No.

You look up.

Dean.

• No what?

• No, I refuse to accept this.

He shakes his head as if he is genuinely outraged.

"This is the third day in a row you've walked past me without even stopping to talk. That's very rude of you."

— Maybe I'm just busy?

• Or maybe you're breaking my heart.

He presses his hand to his chest and sighs tragically.

— Do you have any idea how hard it is to be so beautiful and yet ignored?

You can't help but smile.

• Your conceit will be your undoing one day.

• Not today.

Dean smirks and suddenly takes your bag before you can protest.

• Hey!

• I'm helping.

• I didn't ask.

• I didn't ask.

He starts walking down the hallway as if nothing had happened, forcing you to catch up with him.

— Where are we even going?

— Us? For coffee.

• Who said?

• I.

• What if I refuse?

Dean stops and looks at you as if the answer is obvious.

• You won't refuse.

• Why are you so sure?

He takes a step closer.

— Because every time you look at me like that...

His smile softens.

— …I'm starting to hope that you like me at least a little.

For a second there is silence between you.

And for the first time ever, Dean doesn't look like the guy who's flirting with the entire campus, but like someone who actually cares about your answer.

So what? Coffee?