The university cafeteria buzzes with lunchtime activity as Rosa sits alone at her usual corner table, her muscular frame making the standard plastic chair look almost comically small. She's dressed in a fitted white blouse and black slacks that accentuate her impressive physique, her long black hair with auburn ends neatly braided down her back. Her square-rimmed glasses slide down her nose slightly as she focuses on the textbook in front of her, occasionally taking small bites from her protein-rich lunch. As she notices {{user}} approaching, she adjusts her glasses nervously, her brown eyes darting between him and her textbook. Her thick thighs shift under the table as she straightens her posture, trying to appear casual despite her rising anxiety. "Oh... hi," she says softly, already reaching for her backpack. "Let me guess - the calculus homework from Professor Martinez? Or maybe it's the chemistry lab report this time?" There's a hint of resignation in her voice as she continues. "I have my notes right here, just... just give me a second to find them." She starts fumbling through her bag, her muscular arms tensing as she moves. "You know, speaking of chemistry, I was watching this fascinating documentary last night about molecular gastronomy and how they use chemical reactions to create these amazing culinary experiences..." She catches herself starting to ramble and stops abruptly, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Sorry, you probably don't care about that. Which assignment did you need help with?"

Rosa smiles shyly, looking down at her hands folded on the table. "Oh, thank you," she says quietly. "It's nice to have someone appreciate that side of me." She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly before meeting his gaze again. "So, what did you actually want help with?"

Her muscular arms are still visible under the tight fabric of her blouse as she leans forward slightly, anxiousness written all over her face. Despite her worries about being used or forgotten once he gets whatever information he needs from her, there's a small part of her that craves his company and approval.

She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the gold hoop in her earlobe - one of many trinkets she's collected over the years from jobs not much better than working for the mob as a child. "You could just hang out with

"Oh," she says, taken aback. She studies his face, searching for some sign that he's telling the truth. "I don't know... I just get this feeling sometimes that you only come around when you need something from me." Her voice trails off, and her gaze drifts back to her textbook as she fidgets with a loose thread on her blouse.

It occurs to her that she's not even sure why she lets herself fall into this cycle of doubt and insecurity around him. She's attracted to him, yes, but beyond that, he seems to genuinely care for her. Maybe if she just gave him a chance...

Deciding on a compromise, she smiles shyly up at him. "Well, if you want to hang out after I help you with whatever it is... we could always find something fun to do." She pauses, realizing how that

Smiling wider at his words, she feels a weight lifting off her shoulders. "Okay," she says softly, still hesitant but hopeful. "I'd like that." She takes another deep breath and pushes the negative thoughts aside. Maybe things can be different this time around with him.

As they continue to chat over their respective assignments, she finds herself more at ease in his presence than ever before. Her arm muscles relax under the fabric of her blouse, and she even dares to giggle a little at one of his jokes - something she hasn't done with anyone else in quite some time.

By the end of their study session, they've made plans to go out for dinner later that week. The tension between them has lifted, replaced by an almost tangible sense of excitement and anticipation. For once, it feels like there might be something more than just friendship between them - something real and

Her cheeks flush with the compliment, but she doesn't miss a beat as she continues to study his features intently. "I don't know," she says teasingly, brushing her fingers through the air where he touched her hair. "Someone told me once that I was only pretty enough for the back of my head." There it is again - that hint of doubt creeping in, making her wonder if maybe they aren't as compatible as she'd hoped.

She takes a deep breath and pushes the thought aside, focusing instead on enjoying their time together. "So," she says brightly, changing the subject. "What do you want to eat for dinner tonight?"

Her heart swells at his words and the gentle touch of his hand on hers. She looks up into his eyes, her own glistening with unshed tears. "Thank you," she whispers, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy wash over her. She'd never thought anyone would want to take her out on a date, let alone someone like him. The only other man who's ever shown her any sort of affection was her father... and even then, it was more for his own needs than hers.

For now, she decides to savor the moment and forget about doubts and insecurities. "I'd love that," she says with a smile that lights up her whole face. "Anywhere you want to go is fine with me."

She blushes deeper at the touch and his words, her heart skipping a beat. "I'm working on it," she whispers softly, hoping that maybe someday soon she'll truly believe in herself as much as he seems to. For now, though, she decides to enjoy the moment and focus on feeling confident in their connection. She looks up at him with renewed hope and determination, reaching out a hand to rest it on his arm gently. "When we go out tonight," she says quietly, "I want you to show me all the things I've been missing while worrying about everyone else."

She thinks for a moment, considering all the possibilities. "How about we go somewhere fancy?" she suggests with a mischievous grin. "You know, like one of those fancy restaurants that serve food on tiny little plates and have waiters in tuxedos walking around with trays of champagne." Her eyes sparkle at the thought of dressing up for such an occasion and pretending to be someone else for a night - someone who doesn't have worries or anxieties, just endless possibilities.

"And after dinner," she continues, already feeling her excitement building, "we could go somewhere... romantic." She catches herself again, uncertainty creeping back in. This isn't how things normally go for her - planning dates and imagining herself with someone like him. But tonight feels different; he makes her feel different, and she doesn't want to ruin this by being too cautious or