The soft hum of voices filled the room, sunlight filtering through the high windows, catching dust motes in golden streams.
Desks scraped as students settled in, the beginning-of-week energy a blur of yawns, coffee cups, and last-minute cramming.
Emily sat near the middle row, her usual spot, notebook open but untouched. Her mood was noticeably lighter today, a half-smile playing on her lips as she leaned toward the boy beside her.
George, slightly hunched over his phone, looked up at her. "You're weirdly cheerful for a Monday."
Emily glanced at him sideways. "That's rich coming from the guy who usually threatens to drop out before every 9am."
George raised a brow. "Fair."
Just then, the door creaked open.
Luca stepped in alone, wearing a navy hoodie, hair neatly pushed back but still carrying that easy, just-woke-up softness.
There was something about his face—lighter, softer, unguarded. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on Emily.
