(Michelle Lui's POV)
Wednesday felt… quiet.
Not boring quiet.
Not sad quiet.
Just soft, suspended quiet — like the whole day was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
Maybe because Tuesday had been heavy.
Maybe because my chest still fluttered at random times.
Maybe because every time my brain wandered, it went to the same place:
One moment.
One hand.
One subtle smile.
I buried my face into my pillow.
Stop it, Michelle.
You are 30 inside. You are composed. You are mature.
(…You are also apparently weak to charcoal sweaters and gentle airplane smiles.)
I dragged myself out of bed, made coffee, and sat at my desk with a dramatic sigh.
Today was Wednesday.
No classes with Steven today.
No EX8 chaos.
Just my block.
A break.
A breather.
A normal day.
Or so I thought.
Wednesday — A Michelle Kind of Day
Classes were ordinary.
Camille showed me her new stationery.
Angie tried to "accidentally" block my view of the board three times.
