⋆⸜Teach me ── Chris Sturniolo
Chapter 1: The First Night
Written by @sturniololuvz don't steal my writing. if you love it, reblog it, don't claim it. Highkey already have chapter 2 and 3 written…
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You never planned on walking into that frat house. You never planned on smelling spilled beer and vanilla vape smoke as soon as the door opened. You never planned on feeling your heart thump uncomfortably in your chest as you stepped inside and saw bodies packed into every corner, music shaking the walls so much it felt like your own pulse was syncing with it
But your roommate was begging you to come out. You had been studying all week, staying in your room, living off iced coffees and textbooks, refusing to be social. She told you to live a little. She told you that she would drag you there herself if you said no again.
So you went. You regretted it immediately.
The place was loud, sweaty, chaotic. Guys yelling across the room, girls stumbling in heels, someone spilling an entire cup on the stairs while laughing about it. Everything about it felt overwhelming. You told your roommate you were just going to stand near the wall and not move.
And that was exactly what you did.
You stuck yourself in the back corner, holding your phone in your hand like a life raft. You pretended to text someone even though your home screen kept lighting up and exposing your lie. You watched the flashing lights from the kitchen doorway. You tried not to make eye contact with anyone who looked too drunk or too confident.
Then someone bumped into your arm hard enough that your phone almost fell.
You turned to snap at them, but the words never came out.
You had seen him around campus once or twice. He was always in a group of people. Always laughing, always talking with a voice just a little too loud. He wore rings on his fingers like he was born with them, and he walked like he owned the concrete under his shoes. You knew he lived in this frat. Everyone knew. You had heard girls talk about him in class. He was the type who could get anyone with a smile. The type who flirted out of boredom. The type who left before the sun came up.
You didn’t expect him to look at you.
He stared at you for a moment, slightly squinting like he was trying to place you in his head. His hair was curly and messy, falling over his forehead. His eyes were a little red, and you immediately knew he had smoked earlier. He smelled like weed and mint. His cheeks were flushed like he had already been drinking for hours.
“Shit. Sorry,” he said. His voice was a little rough, like he had been yelling over the music. “You alright?”
You nodded even though your heart was pounding harder now than before.
He seemed relieved that you were not angry. Then he looked around and noticed that you were standing by yourself. His brows pulled together like that was some sort of tragedy.
“Are you stuck here?” he asked.
You shook your head. “No. I’m just waiting for someone.”
He tilted his head slowly, and you could tell he didn’t believe you for a second. His lips curled like he was fighting a smile.
“Uh huh,” he said. “Let me guess. You don’t like parties.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “You look like you wanna run out the door.”
You couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or if he genuinely cared, but something about the way he was standing made you feel strangely calm. He was leaning on the wall next to you now, right shoulder pressed against the paint, eyes still on your face. He was taller up close. His presence felt warm and distracting.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
He repeated it under his breath like he wanted to hear how it sounded coming from his own mouth. Your stomach twisted when he said it again softly, like he liked the way it felt.
You already knew that, but you nodded anyway.
He glanced down at your hand, noticing how tightly you were gripping your phone. “You don’t have to be here,” he said. “Come on. Come outside for a minute. It’s quieter.”
You should have said no. You should have made some excuse about needing to go find your roommate. You should have reminded yourself that he was the last type of guy who would ever be good for you.
He led you out the back door, stepping over someone passed out on the stairs and laughing to himself about it. Outside, the air was cold and sharp and smelled like wet grass. People were sitting on the back steps, smoking, yelling quietly about something stupid. Chris ignored them and walked toward the side of the house, where it was darker and quieter.
He sat on the edge of the stone pathway and patted the spot next to him.
“There,” he said. “Better, right?”
You took a slow breath. “Yeah. A little.”
He nodded and leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky like the stars were the only peaceful thing left in the world. His rings glinted under the yellow porch light.
“So,” he said casually, “why were you standing alone in there?”
You shrugged. “I’m not really a party person.”
You stared at him. “You live in a frat house.”
He laughed, a soft tired laugh that somehow made you want to smile back. “Yeah, but I don’t like being in the middle of all that. I just like the people here.” He paused. “And the weed.”
You let out a small laugh before you could stop yourself. He looked pleased that he got you to do that.
“You come here a lot?” he asked.
“That explains it,” he said. “You looked like someone who got dragged in.”
You nodded quietly, picking at your fingers. He watched you for a long moment. Not in a creepy way. More like he was trying to figure out what kind of person you were.
Then he asked, “What’s your major?”
You told him, and that started the first real conversation you had all night. You talked about classes and dorms and annoying professors. He told you stories about stupid things that happened in this house. He told you how Nick and Matt live with him on campus. He told you how he stayed up all night last week because someone lost a pet snake inside the hallway.
You laughed so hard you had to cover your face.
Chris watched you like he had not seen someone laugh like that in a long time.
He moved a little closer without even noticing he was doing it.
You felt your cheeks warm. He noticed that too.
His voice dropped a little when he spoke again. “You’re kinda shy, huh.”
You swallowed. “Not always.”
He said it like he already knew the answer.
You looked away, embarrassed. He smiled to himself like he found you adorable.
There was a moment of silence, but it was comfortable. The kind of silence where you could hear the thump of music inside and distant laughter from strangers, but none of it touched you where you sat.
Chris leaned his head back again, looking at the sky. “It’s weird,” he said quietly. “I feel like I’ve seen you before.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Probably. But I probably would’ve remembered you.”
Your face heated again, and he noticed.
He laughed a little. “You blush easy.”
You covered your face with your hands. “Please don’t point it out.”
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “It’s cute.”
Your heart skipped. You tried not to stare at him, but he was already looking at you. His eyes were softer now than before, like something about you pulled him out of his usual frat boy haze.
“Do you wanna get out of here?” he asked.
You stiffened. “Get out of here like… go where?”
He shrugged. “Not far. Just a walk. You look overwhelmed.”
You hesitated. It was late. You barely knew him. But something deep in your chest told you that he was not going to hurt you. He was not going to push anything. He just wanted company.
He stood and offered you a hand. His palm was warm when he helped you up.
The two of you started walking down the street. The night air felt cooler, quieter. Your shoulders slowly relaxed. Chris walked beside you with his hands in his pockets, stealing glances at you every couple seconds like he was trying to learn your face by memory.
“Sorry if I’m talking too much,” he said suddenly. “I get chatty when I’m high.”
“You’re not bothering me.”
That made him smile again. A real smile. Something softer than anyone would expect from a frat guy.
After a minute he asked, “Do you wanna tell me why you came tonight if you hate parties?”
“My roommate dragged me. She thinks I need to be more social.”
He nodded. “Maybe she’s right. You’re fun to talk to.”
You felt your heartbeat jump again. You hoped he could not hear it.
“You’re… not what I expected,” you said quietly.
“I heard you’re kind of a player.”
He looked at you slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he breathed out and shook his head.
“I mean, I used to be,” he said. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to figure myself out. I don’t like hurting people. I don’t want to be that guy anymore.”
You watched him carefully. He looked honest. Raw even.
“I’m not really good at… serious stuff,” he added. “Feelings and things like that. I always mess it up.”
You didn’t know why he was telling you this. Maybe the night was quiet enough to make him open up. Maybe the weed softened him. Or maybe you made him feel safe.
You didn’t know yet that this would become the pattern. Chris feeling too much around you, then not knowing how to handle it.
You slowed a little as you reached the corner of the street. Chris stopped too and turned toward you.
Without thinking about it, he took off his hoodie and held it out to you. You stared at it for a second, then at him.
“I don’t wanna steal your jacket,” you said.
He shook his head. “You’re freezing. Just take it.”
He stepped closer and helped you pull it on, tugging it over your shoulders gently. His fingers brushed the side of your neck, and your breath caught. He noticed your reaction and hesitated for just one second too long.
Your face tilted up slightly without meaning to. His eyes flicked to your mouth. He took a slow breath and stepped back.
He could have. He wanted to. But something in his chest stopped him. Something you wouldn’t understand until much later.
“Come on,” he said softly. “I’ll walk you back.”
The two of you headed toward your dorm, and for the first time that night, you felt calm. When you reached the entrance, you turned to him.
He nodded. “You wanna hang out again?”
You looked down at your feet for a moment, feeling shy, then looked back at him. “Yeah. I do.”
His mouth twitched like he was trying not to look too happy about that.
“Cool,” he said. “Text me when you’re free.”
You went to hand him back the hoodie, but he shook his head.
“Keep it,” he said quietly. “I like it on you.”
Your cheeks warmed again and he grinned.
You watched him walk away down the sidewalk, hands back in his pockets, curls bouncing lightly with every step. He kept glancing over his shoulder like he wanted to make sure you were still there, still looking.
You didn’t know that tonight would change everything.
You didn’t know he would become the person who made your heart race and break in the same breath.
You didn’t know that this boy, this messy frat boy who smelled like weed and mint, would eventually stand in front of you begging you to teach him how to love.
All you knew was that when he walked away, you already wanted to see him again.
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