It was just an ordinary Thursday.
Michelle had a long day—back-to-back lectures, a pop quiz in economics, and a caffeine crash by mid-afternoon. By the time she dropped her backpack onto her dorm floor, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in her blanket and forget the world existed.
She hadn't heard much from Steve that day—just a simple "Thinking of you" text during lunch. No plans. No hints. Nothing unusual.
Until someone knocked on her door.
She opened it slowly, expecting maybe Ava or Claire, but instead—
There he was.
Steve.
Holding something behind his back, eyes a little mischievous, a little shy.
Michelle blinked. "Hey… I wasn't expecting you."
He grinned. "I know."
Without saying anything else, he revealed what was in his hands:
A small paper bag. Folded neatly. And a single yellow daisy sticking out the top.
"For you," he said.
She raised an eyebrow, touched. "What is it?"
"Open it."
Inside, she found:
A warm chocolate croissant from her favorite café
A tiny bottle of vanilla hand cream she once mentioned loving, exactly once
A folded note, written in his slightly messy handwriting
And a playlist QR code he'd made for her: "Songs that sound like you"
Michelle didn't say anything for a moment. Her eyes scanned the little things in the bag — each of them so… her. Things she didn't even remember telling him. Things she never expected someone to notice.
The note said:
"I know you had a long day.So I wanted to remind you that someone out there notices you.Not just when you smile.But also when you sigh.And especially when you're quiet."
She looked up at him slowly, holding the note with both hands.
"You remembered all of this?"
Steve shrugged, suddenly a little shy. "I pay attention."
Michelle stepped forward, her heart full, and wrapped her arms around him.
Not the usual casual hug.Not a flirtatious squeeze.A slow, quiet hug—head to his chest, breath steady, arms clinging tightly.
She didn't say thank you.
She said, quietly:
"No one's ever done anything like this for me."
Steve rested his chin on her hair and whispered:
"Get used to it."
That night, lying in bed with his playlist playing softly through her headphones, Michelle closed her eyes and smiled.
He saw her.
Not the perfect version.Not the smiling girl at the party.The tired, messy, overwhelmed her.
And he still chose to show up.