#ningningxgnreader

Synopsis: A notorious troublemaker finds himself drawn to the quiet, brilliant girl who spends all her time in the library. What begins as an unexpected curiosity turns into a daily habit, a soft pull neither of them can explain. As rumors swirl and the campus watches their unlikely connection unfold, the chaos he once caused is slowly replaced by something gentler—something that just might be love.

Word Count: 2,569

You’ve always been known as the troublemaker—the one who sleeps in class like it’s part of the syllabus, pulls dumb pranks for laughs, and bombs tests without even trying. You’re loud, reckless, and honestly? Most teachers gave up on you a long time ago. Everyone at school knows your name… and not in a good way.

But one day, it changed.

You spotted her sitting in the library. Same spot every time. Hair tucked behind her ear, pen tapping against her notebook, eyes glued to the page like the world around her didn’t exist. She wasn’t like anyone else here. She looked like she actually belonged—like the school made sense to her.

You asked around for her name. Nobody gave it to you—probably trying to protect her. Fair enough. But you weren’t the type to give up. So you marched into the library the next day like it was your turf, plopped down across from her table, and grinned.

You hesitated a little, hands awkwardly stuffed in your pockets, before slowly walking up to her table. You stood there for a second, unsure what to say. Then blurted it out louder than you meant to:

“Hey!”

She looked up, startled, then confused. “Do I… know you?”

“Uh—n-nope,” you said quickly, laughing awkwardly. “I mean… maybe. I mean, probably not.”

She blinked. “Okay?”

You rubbed the back of your neck, voice a little quieter now. “I, uh… I’ve just seen you here a lot. And I was… curious? About you.”

She stared at you. You shifted on your feet.

“What’s your name?” you asked, trying not to sound like a creep. “I swear I’m not weird. I just… you looked cool. And smart. And I thought… maybe I could sit here?”

She tilted her head, almost smiling. “You want to sit… here?” “Only if that’s okay!” you said quickly. “I don’t really do the whole studying thing but, uh… maybe I could learn a little.” She finally gave a small smile. “It’s Ningning.” You sat down before she could change her mind.

Your heart was racing but you tried to play it cool—emphasis on tried. “…I’m Y/N,” you added after a second. “I’m kinda… bad at all this.” “I figured,” she said, eyes twinkling a little. “But you’re brave for showing up.”

“Brave? Nah,” you muttered. “Just… really wanted to talk to you.”

After the first interaction you two had, You started coming to the library more often—not for the books, not for the quiet, but for her. Ningning. She always sat in the same corner seat by the window, earbuds in, focus locked on her notes like nothing in the world could reach her.

At first, she didn’t even look up when you sat across from her. No greetings. No acknowledgment. Just her pen moving and the faint sound of music leaking from her earphones.

You’d try to start conversation anyway.

“So, uh… did you know they banned chicken nuggets in the cafeteria? Crazy, right?”

No response. She casually turned the volume up on her phone.

Undeterred, you kept going.

“I failed another math quiz today,” you said, leaning back in your chair with a sigh. “Think the teacher’s out to get me. Or maybe math just hates me.”

Still nothing. Just her pen scribbling faster.

But every now and then, you’d catch it—a tiny smile at the corner of her lips, like she was fighting it. Like she didn’t want to enjoy your nonsense, but… maybe part of her did.

One time, you tried handing her a juice box. “Peace offering,” you said with a grin.

She stared at it, then back at you. “Are you trying to bribe me with juice?”

“…Yes?”

She rolled her eyes and took it anyway. “Whatever. Just don’t be loud.”

That was the most she’d said to you all week.

Even when she pretended to ignore you, Ningning never told you to leave. She never asked you to stop showing up. And eventually, your presence wasn’t strange anymore. It was expected.

but everytime ningning goes and study she always expects you to come, its like imprinted in her routine that you’d be there yapping for time and time, even everyone on campus notice the decrease of your stupidity around the campus, out of curiosity they’d always look for you and eventually see you always with ning ning, this week, next week and next next week, you’re day and as time passes by ning ning caught herself unable to put he rheadphones but rather listen to you.

Every day after class, Ningning would head to her usual spot in the library—corner seat by the window, stack of books in her arms, highlighters tucked behind her ear. Same routine. Same silence.

Except now, it wasn’t complete without you.

At first, she told herself it was coincidence. That you just happened to be there again. That the sound of your chair scraping the floor wasn’t something she waited for. That she wasn’t… smiling a little when you dropped your bag with that familiar sigh and plopped into the seat across from her.

But it kept happening.

Every day.

This week.

Next week.

The week after that.

And slowly, it became part of her schedule. Part of her. Like the smell of ink, or the weight of her books, your voice became something she expected—something she wanted.

She’d catch herself, finger hovering over her music app, earbuds in hand. But she never pressed play.

Instead, she listened to you ramble about nonsense. About how history was a scam. About how the vending machine was probably rigged. About how the school cat winked at you and you were now spiritually bonded.

And the craziest part?

She listened.

Really listened.

And the rest of the campus noticed. The chaos you used to bring—the pranks, the yelling, the weird rumors about you flooding the locker rooms with bubble bath—suddenly stopped.

“Where’s Y/N?” people would ask.

But they’d always find the same answer: in the library. With her.

“Y/N’s with Ningning again? What a weird combo…”

“Right? Must be tough for her, poor girl.”

The whispers kept coming, but you didn’t care—not when you were sitting across from her again, surrounded by stacks of books you wouldn’t read and snacks you sneakily smuggled in.

“I’m telling you, if I took school seriously, I could easily become president,” you said, chin resting on your palm.

Ningning didn’t even glance up. “You failed the last history test, Y/N. The one about presidents.”

“Technicalities. I was just… testing the system.”

“But admit it,” you grinned, leaning a little closer. “Campus has been way more exciting since I started bothering you.”

She finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Exciting isn’t the word I’d use.”

“What would you use, then?” you asked, trying to sound casual even though her gaze always made your stomach do backflips.

“Loud. Distracting. Questionably annoying,” she said, counting each one off with her fingers. But there was a small smile tugging at her lips, betraying her tone.

You laughed. “Ouch. But you didn’t tell me to leave.”

She shrugged, eyes flicking down to her notes. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

You gasped, dramatically placing a hand over your heart. “Cold. So cold.”

She sighed, setting her pen down. “Okay, dinosaur boy—what’s today’s wild theory?”

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, leaning in with way too much energy for a library setting, “if time travel was real, I’d go back and stop myself from ever taking math. Life changer.”

Ningning let out a laugh—a real one this time. Soft, quick, almost shy.

“You’re such an idiot,” she muttered.

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot now, right?”

You grinned. “No one. But you didn’t deny it.” That caught her off guard. She paused, cheeks turning the faintest pink. “Who said anything about you being mine?”

She picked her pen back up, pretending to write something. “Keep talking and I’ll deny your existence. You just laughed again, watching her try to hide her smile as she scribbled on the page.

After months of shared afternoons filled with soft bickering, side-eyes over snack wrappers, and silent moments that somehow spoke louder than words, Ningning decided it was time.

She wouldn’t call it a date, of course—not that she didn’t want to. But admitting it out loud felt terrifying. So instead, she called it a trip. A casual visit to a cozy public library she “just happened to like,” far from school and even farther from the watchful eyes of classmates.

You met her there, already surprised by the change in setting. She fidgeted with her sleeves for a while, eyes focused on the bookshelves behind you until—

“We should go somewhere… together. You know, for a change. Not here. Not school,” she said, her tone light, almost teasing. “You could consider it… a field trip. For your chaotic brain.”

You blinked. “Wait, are you asking me out?”

She smirked. “I’m asking if you want to escape studying for a day.”

But the slight blush dusting her cheeks betrayed her, and you felt your heart flip—no, cartwheel. The butterflies kicked in full force.

“You already know the answer,” you said, trying to play it cool. “But say it’s a date, and I’ll say yes even faster.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t push it, dinosaur boy.”

Still, the way her lips curled made it clear: she was happy.

The day finally came. You were buzzing the entire morning, practically bouncing in your seat waiting for dismissal. Everyone noticed. And so did the rumors.

“Is Y/N blackmailing her or something?”

“She looks so uncomfortable around him. It’s messed up.”

It spread fast, wildfire-fast, like people couldn’t believe a girl like Ningning could actually choose to be around you.

You were used to the judgment. She was too. Neither of you said anything—but it lingered.

Then, just as you were heading out to meet her, you passed by a group of girls near the vending machine. They were giggling, whispering—until suddenly, the machine tipped forward with a sharp screech.

Gasps rang out. One of the girls froze in place, right in the path of the falling metal.

Without thinking, you lunged forward, catching the edge of the machine and pushing it back into place with all your strength.

Everyone stared.

The girl you saved looked at you, stunned, as did her friends.

One of them muttered, “That’s Y/N…?”

And slowly, it hit them. The rumors. The stories. The reputation. But more than that—it hit them that you weren’t just the guy who disrupted class and played dumb. Somewhere along the line, Ningning changed you. Or maybe, just maybe, she brought out the part of you that was always there… just waiting for someone to see it

You finally arrived—about five minutes late—but Ningning didn’t seem to mind. There she was, sitting by the window of the cozy little library, not in her usual uniform but in a pastel yellow long-sleeved top tucked into casual beige pants, glasses resting on her nose, stacks of books beside her and a warm cup of coffee cradled in her hands.

She looked up and smiled softly, “Late, as expected.”

You chuckled, stepping closer. “Wasn’t expecting you to look this cute, honestly. Might’ve run here instead.”

She raised an eyebrow, but her cheeks flushed. “You say that now, but you’ll still fall asleep mid-convo like always.”

“Nah,” you grinned, sliding into the seat across from her. “Not today. Not when I’ve got your undivided attention for once.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “I always give you at least 10% of my brain.”

“Well, I want a hundred.”

Ningning laughed, sipping her coffee as she leaned forward a little. “Then make it worth it, Y/N.”

The conversation flowed easier than usual—no textbooks to hide behind, no distractions. Just the two of you in your own little corner of the world. Banters bounced back and forth like second nature, filling the room with soft laughter.

And somewhere between teasing her about the number of books she brought and listening to her laugh at your absurd theory about time travel and bread expiration dates, you caught yourself just… looking.

You’d always steal glances before, when she studied and you’d pretend to be bored. But now?

Now she was looking back too. No headphones. No fake annoyance. Just her eyes—clear, curious, and soft—locked on yours.