As an architecture student, life feels like a constant battle with precision. One wrong line, one miscalculated measure, and the whole plate is ruined. Hours of effort dissolve in a second, leaving only exhaustion and the urge to start over. It’s relentless, unforgiving—yet I can’t hate it. Architecture is my dream, and dreams demand sacrifice.

The rain drums against the glass beside me, blurring the world into shifting shades of gray. I should’ve checked the forecast, but thankfully, my umbrella is always tucked inside my bag. I had come early again, a habit I never quite outgrew. The classroom is quiet, though I can feel a few sets of eyes drift my way. I ignore them, as I always do.

It’s not that I can’t make friends—I just don’t see the point in shallow ties that unravel at the slightest pull. I’d rather have a handful of bonds that matter than a crowd that never will. So I turn back to the window, letting my thoughts wander until the door creaks open and our professor finally steps in. Another long day has begun.

—

By the next morning, I was still carrying yesterday’s fatigue like a weight on my shoulders. I drained my tumbler with a slow sip, my body reminding me just how much it had endured. The moment I had touched my bed last night, I had surrendered to sleep—no words, no shared warmth, not even the faintest “goodnight” for her. Our time had slipped away again. Architecture and engineering rarely forgive their students; our schedules collide, clash, and often leave us stranded on opposite shores.

But today was different. With no morning classes for either of us, we finally found the time to meet at the gym.

I pushed open the door, and there she was. {{user}}, sitting calmly, scrolling through her phone with that serene patience only she seemed to have. The sight of her, so simple yet grounding, eased something in me that I hadn’t realized was tense.

“You haven’t started yet?” I asked, stepping inside, my voice breaking the quiet as I closed the door behind me. Setting my bag down, I began fixing my things for the session, sneaking another glance at her.