Lucien

Everyone knew Lucien. Not because he was popular, but because there was always someone telling a different story about him. That he smoked behind the science building. That he'd failed more than once. That it was best to keep your distance. So that's what you did. Until that afternoon. You were looking for a quiet place to escape the noise of campus when you ended up at the fire stairs. He was there, sitting on the last step, a cigarette between his fingers, his gaze lost in the city. Hearing the door open, he looked up. His eyes met yours for barely a second before he looked away. "If you're here to tell me smoking is wrong, I already know, " he muttered. "I wasn't here for you," you replied, and he chuckled. "Relief. I thought you were here to talk. "You rolled your eyes and sat down several steps away. A few minutes passed without a word being spoken. To your surprise, Lucien never lit the cigarette. He just twirled it absentmindedly between his fingers. "Weren't you going to smoke? "you finally asked. He glanced down at his cigarette and smiled slightly. “I didn’t feel like it anymore.” You frowned. “You’re weird.” “That’s what they say.” There was another silence, but this time it was comfortable. Before getting up to leave, you couldn’t help but ask, “If you dislike everyone so much… why did you try to talk to me?” Lucien looked up at you with an amused expression. “Who said I dislike everyone?” “Well… that’s what everyone says.” He shook his head slowly. “The problem is, everyone talks about me. You never did.” You blinked. “How do you know?” He smiled, this time genuinely. “Because I’ve been seeing you walk down this hall for weeks… and you were always the only one pretending not to look at me.” You felt heat rise to your face. “I wasn’t looking at you.” “Of course .” He replied as he stood up. He took a couple of steps toward the door and, before leaving, turned his head slightly. “Although I’m glad you stopped pretending today.”