Newt blew on the surface of his coffee as he made his way towards the library, squinting against a sudden gust of wind. His tongue burned on the scalding hot liquid and he sighed as his shoes crunched against the multicolour of dried leaves that littered the ground.

When he arrived at his usual bench underneath the maple tree with a dedication to Chancellor Ava Paige at its base, he stopped three feet away and gawked. It was his study tree that he shared with Minho every single day since they started in Denver University and became friends. He found that bench behind the Janson Library, it was isolated and empty because the only way to get there was by going through the maze or jumping down from the stairs that led to the first floor.

The dark hair boy looked up from his notebook and smiled.

Newt whirled around and sat on the opposite bench with his back turned against the intruder. He opened up his textbook with a small frown and took out his notes as he usually did. Steam continued to rise from his cup of coffee, swirling in the frosty air that nipped at his exposed skin, then disappearing like smoke- the smell of Minho's coats.

Half an hour later, he caught a whiff of his friend's scent as he approached with the girl he had gone out with the night before. They stopped in front of his bench and asked the same question in unison.

"What are you doing?"

But the girl- who, Newt had to admit, was cute- wasn't looking at him. She was staring at the bench behind, to the boy that had taken their spot. He twisted around and saw him waving in her direction sheepishly and Newt turned back to Minho, hoping for an explanation.

"I asked her if she wanted to do her work with us," he rubbed the back of his head. "And I said it was okay if her friend came along too, you know, the one I needed to thank." He laughed weakly. "I thought you'd be okay with it, man."

"Oh," Newt glanced back at the boy again and stood up, gathering his things in understanding. "No, it's completely fine! Just gimme a little warning next time."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Minho said as he led the way back to their table. "Thought I'd get here before you did. Don't you have labs today?"

"It got cancelled," he replied then addressed the boy who was watching them quietly. "Sorry about that, didn't know you were supposed to be with us."

"It's fine, I probably would have done the same," he gave another friendly smile. "I'm Thomas."

"Newt," he nodded back.

"Thomas, huh?" Minho looked at him with a smirk. "Man, I need to thank you."

"Stop it," Kera nudged him but he merely grinned back.

"Like seriously, dude," he went on. "Anything you need, just come to me."

They exchanged a significant look with each other then Thomas cleared his throat. "So uh... what did you guys do?"

"Just had dinner and a walk," she told him casually. Thomas knew she was hiding something instantly, and raised an eyebrow at her.

Newt highlighted a sentence on his notes and looked up. "With Minho? I ain't buyin' it."

Minho opened his mouth to reply but she pinched him in the side and he cried out in pain instead. "Nope, just that," she squeaked as he gave her a sullen look. "Totally just that. Nothin' happened."

"Suuuure..." Newt shared an amused glance with Thomas. They were both so obvious, it was blinding. "And I'm the bloody Queen of England."

"Oh, for God's sake," Minho rolled his eyes and pulled out his cigarettes. "We had ice cream too, okay?"

Thomas snorted beside Newt as the blonde bit his lip and stared at his friend in growing disbelief. Even after three years, the boy never failed to surprise him. Kera nodded her head eagerly, eyes darting back and forth between them all. She hadn't caught the insinuation just yet but when she did, she smacked Minho's arm with a loud slap.

"Hey! You're just making it sound worse!" she exclaimed, her previous meekness dissipating into the air.

Sparing the girl any more embarrassment, they dropped the subject and started to focus on their respective work. It turned out that Kera was doing Fine Arts, and Thomas was studying Contemporary Literature. It was a striking contrast to Newt's Physics course and Minho's Engineering. The Art students versus the Science students; it made for numerous eclectic conversations as they stole Minho's cigarettes and took down only a few sentences worth of notes during the entire two hours they sat there.

Just as Newt reached for another cigarette, he brushed against Thomas' fingers that were doing the same. He pulled his hand back and looked directly into the boy's dark brown eyes, noticing the spatter of moles on the side of his face. An urge to touch the boy took him by surprise and he drew back, gesturing for Thomas to go first.

"Thanks," he murmured as he took a stick from the pack and lit it up. A puff of smoke billowed around him a second later, creating a hazy layer that surrounded him with an esoteric quality.

Newt felt his heart skip a beat and he turned back to his notes, before remembering that he'd wanted a cigarette as well. He took one so it wouldn't appear weird and placed it between his lips. His eyes wandered back to the boy beside him as he lit the stick, and they took a drag at the same time. The rush of carbon monoxide leaving his tired lungs was in sync with the surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Thomas looked up then, something deep and indiscernible in his abstruse gaze.

He wanted to unravel him, discover the hidden secrets of his cosmos and the way his atoms vibrated around their spin axes. His eyes continued to stare, enthralled by the perfect symmetry of his face and lines.

"Oh, no," Kera suddenly said when she looked at the time on her phone. "I got to go. Teresa said she was coming over around seven. Hey, Thomas, you going with me?"

"Huh?" he looked up at her as if rousing from a dream, then stubbed out his cigarette. "Oh, yeah, I'm coming."

He started to gather his things and stuffed it back into his bag as Kera made more arrangements with Minho for the next day. They bade each other goodbye and the Art students walked away towards the nearby bus stop. Newt watched them leave, taking note of the boy's broad shoulders tapering down to his narrow hips. Then Minho turned to him immediately with a grin that sent his eyes creasing at the sides.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Hm? Yeah, she is pretty cute," Newt replied. "You bloody lucked out this time."

"No, shank," Minho frowned. "I'm talking about Thomas."

"What?" the blonde looked at his friend in shock. "W-What?"

"You should go for it, man."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Newt picked up his notes and rearranged them into order. His heart started to accelerate nervously at the thoughts Minho was putting into his head.

"Please, dude, I saw you checking him out," Minho crossed his arms with a smirk.

"It was nothing," he shook his head adamantly. "He just had ink on his face."

"Sure, and I'm the King of France," his friend snorted then started to pack his things up as well.

Newt paused when he picked up his textbook. He pulled out another envelope from the middle of the book, and stared at it with furrowed eyebrows. Minho noticed and asked what it was. He turned the envelope over and once again, the beautiful calligraphy stood out starkly against the white paper.

"It's another love letter."