6:30 a,m.
Morning light slipped through the curtains, soft and golden against my face. The room smelled faintly of soap and coffee — Eli and Sherryl's dorm, still quiet, still half-asleep.
I blinked a few times before realizing where I was. Somehow, I'd fallen asleep right next to Eli. My head rested on his arm, his breathing slow and steady.
For a while, I didn't move. The warmth between us felt calm, familiar — the kind that made the morning softer than it should've been.
Without thinking, I reached out and gently grabbed his arm.
"Eli,"I said, a little louder than I meant.
No response.
So I leaned closer, my voice soft and muffled against his shoulder.
"I love you,"I whispered.
He didn't move at first. Then, his arm slipped around my waist, pulling me back. His voice was rough from sleep as he murmured,
"This is revenge for last night."
Heat flooded my face. I laughed quietly.
"Yeah?I guess I deserved that."
Eli only hummed, a lazy sound, his arm tightening for one more second before letting go. The ghost of his hold lingered around my waist. By then, sunlight had filled the room completely, chasing the shadows away.
---
A knock broke the quiet.
"Yo,Harvey!" Theo's voice came from the hall. "We're heading back, man."
Right — our dorm.
I stretched, the spell of the moment broken, and grabbed the small paper bag from the desk — the succulent, herb, and spider plant I'd bought yesterday. Eli was already sitting up, hair a comical mess, that faint, knowing smile still playing on his lips.
"Thanks for letting me crash here," I said, my voice still hushed.
He nodded, his eyes holding mine. "Anytime, Harv." The nickname, rarely used, felt like a secret in the morning light.
---
Back at our dorm, the air felt emptier somehow, the silence more pronounced. Theo opened the window, letting a cool breeze and the sound of distant traffic spill in. I set the plants down on the table with a soft thud.
"Okay," he said, cracking a grin. "What's all this, a mini jungle?"
"Decoration," I replied, carefully unwrapping each pot, my fingers brushing cool, damp soil. "Trying to make this place feel less like a storage unit."
The succulent went by the window — small, patient, a survivor.
The herb,I decided was mint, went near the kitchenette — its bright scent already beginning to chase the stale air away.
And the spider plant found a home hanging from a hook by the curtain,its pale green leaves catching the light like stained glass.
Theo leaned against his bed, watching me with an unreadable expression.
"You've really gotten into this,huh?"
I shrugged, but couldn't suppress a smile. "Maybe I just wanted a bit of life around."
For a second, silence settled between us. But it wasn't empty — it was comfortable. The light hit the wall in a warm stripe, and the mint's scent lingered, sharp and clean.
Theo pushed off the bed and walked over, pinching a leaf and rubbing it between his fingers.
"You know,"he said, not looking at me, "my mom always kept rosemary on the windowsill. Said it was for protection." He finally glanced over, a wry, almost shy twist to his mouth. "Or roast chicken. She was never really clear on that."
I laughed, the sound feeling good. "Probably both."
We fell quiet again, the dorm peaceful in a way it hadn't been for weeks. I found myself straightening a stack of books, not out of obligation, but because the order felt right.
Theo clapped his hands once, making me jump. "Alright. So, do these guys have names? Specific watering schedules? Moon rituals we need to follow?"
"Just don't drown them," I said, smiling. "And try not to forget they exist."
"Hey, I'm a great plant uncle," he said, mock-offended. He retrieved the watering can from under the sink and filled it at the tap, his movements suddenly precise. He tilted it carefully over the mint, a small stream darkening the soil. "See? Perfect technique. I'm a natural."
I watched him — this rare, careful version of Theo — and something inside me settled. The lingering warmth from Eli's arm around me that morning felt less like a dizzying dream and more like a steady, low-burning ember in my chest.
Theo set the can down with a satisfied nod. "There. Now our storage room has a fully functional ecosystem."
The sun climbed higher, painting a brighter rectangle of gold across the scuffed floorboards. The air now smelled distinctly of mint, undercut with the familiar scents of dust and old paper.
"Looks less like a storage room now," he conceded, hands on his hips as he surveyed our work.
"Feels less like one, too," I said.
He nodded. No more words were needed.
---
The quiet was broken by a soft, familiar knock at the door. Before either of us could answer, it creaked open. Eli leaned in, his hair dark and damp from a recent shower.
"Hey," he said, and his eyes found mine immediately. "Left my charger here yesterday." He held up the familiar black cord as if in evidence.
Theo didn't miss a beat. "You mean the one you 'accidentally' leave behind every other week? It's on your desk, man. Right where you 'forgot' it."
Eli rolled his eyes but a smile tugged at his lips as he crossed the room. His shoulder brushed against mine as he passed—a light, casual contact that was enough to set my pulse skittering. He smelled like soap and clean cotton.
"Nice plants," he said, his gaze sweeping over our new additions. He reached out and traced the plump edge of a succulent leaf with his fingertip. "Trying to class the place up?"
"Something like that," I managed, my voice thankfully steady.
He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms. "So. You two domesticating the place without me?"
"Theo's already appointed himself plant uncle," I informed him.
"I'm teaching them psychology," Theo added proudly from his bed. "Pretty sure the spider plant's developing an Oedipus complex. It's trying to strangle its own babies." He pointed at the smaller plantlets dangling from the mother.
Eli laughed — a real, warm sound that filled the room. "Sounds like you need a new therapist, Harv. Yours is a little too invested in plant psychodramas."
The room felt full again, alive in a new way—sunlight, easy laughter, and that unspoken something humming just beneath the surface of every glance Eli and I shared.
He pushed off the desk, unplugging his charger. "Alright, I've got a lab. Don't let Theo use my laptop as a watering can." He moved to the door, but paused, his hand on the frame. He glanced back, his eyes finding mine one more time. "See you later, Harvey."
It wasn't just a goodbye. It was a question, a promise, a thread pulled taut between us.
"Yeah," I said, feeling a slow, sure smile spread across my face. "See you later."
When the door clicked shut, Theo let out a low, exaggerated whistle. "Wow. The tension in here could power the entire dorm."
I grabbed a pen from the desk and threw it at him. He dodged it effortlessly, his grin widening.
"I'm just saying!" he chuckled, picking the pen up and tossing it back to me. "It's about time."
I shook my head, but I was still smiling, a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the sun. My gaze drifted back to the plants on the windowsill. They stood bright and steady, their vibrant green a stark, beautiful promise against the faded paint. The room wasn't just feeling new because of them. I was feeling new. The change had come quietly, without fanfare, but it was here. It had taken root, and now, it was beginning to grow.