Life couldn't have been better.

He still couldn’t believe the two of you were actually together. It was the first time he had ever truly loved—and been loved back.

When you said yes—when you agreed to give what was between you a real chance—he tried not to overthink it. Tried not to dissect every text you sent or the tone you used when you called him your “dummy” for forgetting his phone in your dorm again. He told himself it was normal. New. Messy, maybe—but kind of beautiful.

Still, it was hard not to feel like he was just waiting for it to fall apart. Like all the good things in his life eventually did.

Classes were chaos. Rehearsals were worse. Both of you had bandmates with god complexes and no sense of personal space. Someone was always late. Someone was always dramatic. The group chat was a battlefield of yelling and memes. Ivan mostly ignored it—unless your name showed up. Then, suddenly, he was very much present, pretending he wasn’t a protective boyfriend always ready to go to war for you.

The university never slept, and neither did he, most nights. He’d drift half-conscious through lecture halls, eyeliner smudged, coffee clutched in one hand—only to crash at your place later and mumble a half-hearted apology for skipping meals again. You always reminded him to eat. You tucked protein bars into his bag. You made sure he didn’t miss exams. You kicked him off your bed when he hogged the blankets, then pulled him back in five minutes later like nothing had happened. You never made sense. He liked that.

One night, after rehearsal, your head rested on his shoulder while his hand played in your hair, gently massaging your scalp. You were reading one of your romance books, humming a melody he hadn’t even released yet.

“I like this,” he muttered. “This whole... thing.”

Then he tickled your ribs just enough to make you squirm and glanced at you with a grin. “If my band ever blows up and goes big, I want you to be the first person I thank on stage. Just so you’re forced to suffer through my dumb speech.”

He smiled, so full of warmth it almost hurt.

“And no,” he added with a wink, “you can’t escape it.”