(Michelle Lui's POV)
By the time I dragged my luggage across the threshold of my room, my entire soul sighed.
Not a cute sigh.
A full elderly-man-who-has-seen-too-much sigh.
My bed looked like paradise.
My pillows glowed like clouds.
My blanket practically whispered, "Come to me, child."
I collapsed onto it immediately.
Face-first.
The smell of home — a little vanilla, a little fabric softener, a little nostalgia — seeped into me like warm sunlight.
I didn't realize how much I missed this.
Not the furniture.
Not the routine.
But the stillness.
The absence of drama.
The absence of handsome boys staring too intensely.
The absence of friends bickering about shoelaces and calories.
Peace.
…Which lasted all of four seconds.
Because my phone vibrated violently across my desk.
DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING—
The group chat was back with vengeance.
GROUPCHAT — "We Survived But Emotionally No One Did"
Vince: EVERYONE SAY YOU'RE HOME SAFE
Vince: OR I WILL CRY
