The days blurred into one another after that morning.
Campus had shifted into a different rhythm...the tense, hushed one that always accompanied exam season. Lecture halls once buzzing with chatter now echoed with scribbles of pens and the restless tapping of feet. The library became the heartbeat of everything, packed from morning till night with weary students hunched over textbooks and notes.
Amara was no exception.
Her routine shrank into a cycle of lectures, library hours, and hurried meals with friends. Sleep came in fragments, stolen between study sessions. And yet, no matter how crowded the library was, her gaze seemed to find him.
Adrian.
Sometimes he sat alone, tucked into the farthest corner with a fortress of textbooks and neatly stacked papers. Other times he was with a small circle of course mates, quietly discussing past questions. He was always composed, his notes precise, his concentration unshaken.
She envied it. Admired it.
And, though she wouldn't say it out loud, she found comfort in it too.
One evening, a week into the exams, Amara slid into a seat two tables away from him. Her own group had dispersed for dinner, but she wasn't ready to stop. She spread her notes across the table, twirling her pen between her fingers.
Her focus wavered when she noticed Adrian look up. His eyes met hers briefly, cool and unreadable, before flicking back to his book.
But a moment later, his voice carried softly across the near-empty space. "You're mixing chapters."
She blinked, startled. "Huh?"
"You're revising two topics together." His gaze didn't leave the page in front of him, but his tone was matter-of-fact. "It'll confuse you."
Amara glanced down. He was right...her open notes overlapped enzymes and protein assays. She bit her lip, shoving one set aside. "Thanks," she murmured.
For the faintest second, the corner of his mouth tilted. Then it was gone.
Her chest warmed anyway.
They didn't always sit together, but every so often, their study paths aligned. A quiet exchange of notes, a muttered explanation, a borrowed pen returned. Nothing extravagant, nothing for anyone else to notice. But Amara noticed.
Once, near midnight, when only a handful of students remained, she yawned so hard she nearly knocked her pen to the floor. Adrian slid his water bottle across the table without a word.
Another time, she caught herself staring at his handwriting....clean, deliberate strokes across a practice sheet. He caught her looking, eyebrow raised, and she quickly ducked her head, cheeks burning.
It was silly, maybe, but these small moments stitched themselves into something bigger.
Exams themselves were relentless.
Morning papers bled into afternoon ones. Timetables clashed. Amara and her friends exchanged frantic summaries in hallways, their laughter thin with nerves. Sometimes they met Adrian outside the hall, where he stood calm among the restless crowd.
"You look like you've got it all in your head already," one of her friends joked once.
Adrian only shrugged. "Preparation helps."
Amara watched him then, the way he didn't gloat, didn't flinch, just stood steady while the rest of them buzzed. It made her stomach flip in a way she tried not to examine too closely.
The final week arrived faster than anyone expected.
By then, exhaustion clung to every student. The library was quieter...half of them had given up, the other half too weary to speak. Amara trudged through it all, fueled by determination and too much coffee.
On the morning of the last paper, she met Adrian at the entrance of the hall. Their eyes met briefly, a silent exchange.
"You'll be fine," he said quietly.
She blinked, surprised by the reassurance. "You too."
And then they went in.
The exam ended with a collective sigh that rippled across the hall. Pens dropped, chairs scraped back, and students spilled into the corridors with shouts of relief.
"It's over!" one of Amara's friends cheered, throwing her arms around her. "Finally, freedom!"
Amara laughed, the sound bubbling out of her like a release. For the first time in weeks, her shoulders felt light. She gathered with her friends outside, everyone buzzing with plans.
"Let's travel," one suggested.
"No, let's just rest! Sleep for a week."
"Beach trip!" another chimed in.
Amara listened, smiling faintly. Her mind drifted to Adrian, who stood a little apart with his own group, listening quietly as they talked about internships and family visits. He didn't join the rowdy laughter, but the edge of his profile looked softer than usual, almost relaxed.
Their eyes met across the crowd for a fleeting moment.
She lifted her brows, half a smile playing at her lips, as if to say, We made it.
And though his face barely changed, she thought she caught the slightest nod in return.
The break was beginning.
And with it, possibilities she wasn't ready to name.