Page 4 of His To Unravel
“Great,” I respond, relieved at his foresight. One less thing to worry about.
He’s efficient and focused, his attention tuned precisely to the task. It’s refreshing. I’ve had my fair share of group projects where I was carrying everything alone.
As he starts outlining his initial ideas, I find myself observing him a little more closely.
There’s a quiet intensity about him that commands attention. His sharp features are softened by his clear blue eyes, which contrast strikingly with his dark brown hair. The way he sits, his posture perfectly straight and assured, conveys an ease that seems almost otherworldly here, among a sea of frazzled students bent over laptops and textbooks.
I snap out of it, dropping my gaze back to my notes. It’s ridiculous. He’s just a classmate, nothing more. So why does it feel like he’s something I should be wary of?
“I looked up some potential companies we could analyze forthe project,” I say, keeping my tone as even as possible. “I thought we could focus on smaller tech startups entering the healthcare industry, especially with how the market is evolving post-pandemic.”
Nathaniel nods, his eyes meeting mine with an attentiveness that feels like…interest?It’s a little disarming, the way he listens so intently to every word. I’m not used to that. Most people nod along noncommittally, waiting for their turn to speak.
“That’s a solid direction,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “Healthcare tech is volatile enough to make for a compelling analysis.”
I nod, mentally filing away his words. I appreciate his calm focus, how each statement is straightforward and practical. Still, my attention shifts again despite myself.
The way he leans forward when he’s making a point, his hands moving slightly, purposefully, as he gestures to his laptop or notes. The faint, masculine scent of something I can’t quite place—it’s grounding, but in a way that feels oddly personal, even in this academic setting.
His hand brushes mine briefly as we both reach for a reference book, and I pull back quickly, embarrassed. I force myself to focus on the content we’re discussing, though I can feel warmth prickling at the back of my neck, betraying me.
“We’ll need to decide on a country for the market entry strategy,” he says, seemingly unaware of my internal struggle. “Somewhere with enough economic complexity to make this challenging, but accessible enough that we can get quality data.”
“Right,” I manage, clearing my throat. “Maybe one of the Southeast Asian markets? Singapore or Malaysia? They’re good examples of emerging healthcare hubs, and they’re open to tech innovations.”
I catch the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, an approval that feels…gratifying, though I’m not entirely sure why.
His attention returns to his laptop, where he types a few notes before glancing back at me. “Singapore’s an excellent suggestion. Well-researched, innovative, a competitive market.”
The compliment is simple, yet it sends a small thrill through me. I nod and try to keep my voice steady as I say, “Thank you. I try to be thorough.”
“And it shows,” he replies, a brief glint of something warm in his gaze.
I press my hand against my notebook, willing myself to stay focused, to keep this interaction on track. But it’s not as easy as I thought it would be. Being in Nathaniel’s presence is making me question how I’m coming across, whether my own calm is as convincing as his.
There’s something about how he looks at me—the way he seems to absorb every word, every thought I share. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to beseenlike this more often.
Nathaniel leans forward, pointing at a section in our notes on his laptop. “If we want this entry strategy to work, we’ll need a strong justification for the choice of market,” he says, his voice calm yet compelling.
I nod, trying to focus, but I find him so distracting. The way he seems to slip seamlessly between casual observation and focused analysis, his thoughts like quicksilver, shifting as if he’s already five steps ahead. His intellect isn’t just impressive—it’s spellbinding.
He glances at me, a smile tugging at his lips. “You seem deep in thought,” he remarks, leaning back slightly. “Am I overwhelming you? I’ve been told I can be…a bit much.”
I let out a small laugh, surprised at his self-awareness. “No, not at all. It’s refreshing, honestly.” I adjust my notes, trying to mask the blush warming my cheeks. “Most people avoid looking at the details, but you seem to actually enjoy them.”
He raises an eyebrow, looking genuinely interested. “I think the details tell us more than the big picture ever could,” he repliessmoothly. “It’s the same with people. The small things, their subtleties… Those reveal the most.”
The way he says it, as though he’s reading between the lines of my own words, makes something flutter in my chest. There’s a pull toward him that I can’t seem to shake. Every glance, every word feels deliberate—like he’s coaxing me closer without even trying. I can’t explain why this unsettles me.
I clear my throat, pushing the feeling aside.
“That’s true. Which is why market adaptability matters,” I reply, steering the conversation back to safer territory. “If we’re looking at Southeast Asia, there’s a different consumer mindset, a different approach to healthcare.”
He listens, a glimmer of approval in his gaze. “That’s an astute insight. Most people would overlook something like that, but you picked up on it right away.”
I feel a sense of pride at his words. I’ve heard praise from professors and classmates before, but something about the way he says it feels…different. I catch myself smiling before I realize it and quickly look down at my notes.
“So,” he continues, effortlessly drawing me back in, “we have a clear direction. That’s a good start.”
