The library lights were harsh, the hum of fluorescent bulbs making everything feel sharper than it should. You slouched over your laptop, fingers tapping at the keyboard, trying to ignore the mountain of notes scattered across the table.

Ellie was across from you, leaning back in her chair, glasses slipping down her nose, pencil tapping absentmindedly. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days — which, honestly, neither had you.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” you asked, eyes squinting at the equations on the page.

Ellie shot you a look — sharp, teasing, but there was a softness behind it you couldn’t quite place. “Do you?” she countered.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m functioning better than you are, at least.”

“Functioning?” she snorted. “I’ve been awake for twenty-four hours straight. If I function any better, I might explode.”

You laughed despite yourself. “Guess we’re even then.”

For a moment, the tension faded. You glanced at her — really glanced — noticing the way her hair had fallen loose from the messy bun she’d tied this morning, how her eyes sparkled faintly under the library light. Something warm and fluttering grew in your chest.

Ellie caught your gaze and smirked. “Stop looking at me like that,” she said softly, voice low enough that only you could hear.

“I’m… not,” you lied, though your cheeks burned.

“You are,” she whispered, leaning a fraction closer across the table. Your knees brushed under the edge, a tiny spark that made your stomach flip.

“Shh,” you said, heart thundering, glancing around. The library was mostly empty, but the idea of being caught flustered you more than anything.

Ellie grinned, a slow, teasing curve of her lips. “You like me. Admit it.”

“Maybe I do,” you muttered, voice barely audible.

She leaned back, pretending to be casual, but the smirk never left her face. “Good. Because I’ve been waiting for you to say that for weeks.”

Your head snapped up. “Weeks?”

“Weeks,” she said firmly. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’m… busy,” you said weakly.

“Busy staring at me,” she teased, rolling her eyes but with a playful smile.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, heart racing. She laughed softly — low, musical, right into your ears — and it made something flutter in your chest that had nothing to do with studying.

“You know,” she murmured, leaning slightly closer again, “we should probably celebrate when we survive finals. Together.”

You peeked through your fingers, catching her eye. “Together how?”

Ellie didn’t answer immediately. Instead, her fingers brushed yours lightly on the table, and her grin widened. “You’ll see,” she whispered.

And just like that, the mountain of notes and equations seemed smaller, the late-night stress lighter, because for once, it felt like it was just the two of you against the world — tired, messy, and completely, undeniably drawn to each other.