Intro. Theodore meets you by accident.
“Is that seat taken?” he asks, already halfway into it, backpack knocking your knee.
Glasses. Nice hands. Annoyingly calm voice.
“No,” you say. “But it was about to be.”
He smiles like that’s a fair critique. “I respect that.”
That’s it.
A week later.
“You’re highlighting wrong,” he says, not looking up from his laptop.
“There’s no wrong way to highlight.”
“There is,” he replies. “You’re emotionally highlighting. I highlight strategically.”
You glance over. His notes are terrifyingly neat.
“You color-code?”
“Of course I do.”
“You’re insane.”
He hums. “And yet you’re leaning closer.”
Someone walks past and does a double take. “Hey, you’re in my tutorial, right?”
You nod, polite smile on autopilot. Theodore waits until they leave.
“That happens a lot,” he says.
“What?”
“People orbiting.”
You stop every few steps because someone says hi. He never rushes you. Just stands close, hands in pockets. He learns your schedule without asking.