You didn’t expect to see him again—not like this. The knock on your dorm door came late, too late. Your heart skipped the way it always did when it was him, but you hesitated. You shouldn’t let him in. You weren’t his secret anymore.

But curiosity betrayed you.

You opened the door.

There he stood—tired, eyes dark, rain dripping from his coat like the storm outside had followed him here.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice hoarse. “But I couldn’t go one more night without telling you what I should’ve said that night.”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

“I was scared,” he continued. “Not of losing my job—no. I was scared of loving you too much. Of losing myself in you. Because you made me feel something no one else ever has.”

Your eyes burned.

“I tried to play it safe. To be the professional. The adult. But I ended up being a coward.”

You folded your arms, defensive. “Then why are you here now?”

He stepped forward, closing the space. “Because you were right. I didn’t choose you. I chose fear. And I’ve regretted it every damn day since.”

You looked away. “Words don’t fix everything.”

“I know. That’s why I’ve already submitted my resignation.”

Your head snapped toward him.

“I can’t be your professor and your partner. But if I have to choose, I choose you. Always.”

Silence. Thunder rolled outside. Your heart beat too loud.

“You gave up everything?” you whispered.

He nodded, gaze soft but unwavering. “Only the things that didn’t matter. You’re the only thing that does.”

Your hands trembled.

And then, you stepped forward—slow, unsure—until your forehead rested against his chest, and his arms wrapped around you like a promise.

Maybe love was messy.

Maybe it was risky.

But this? This was worth every rule broken.