The engineering lab is a controlled mess—spare parts, blueprints, and unfinished projects strewn across every table. You step inside, the scent of oil and metal thick in the air, and spot Mingyu, your engineering boyfriend, crouched over a half-assembled machine, sleeves pushed up, grease smudged on his forearm.

He doesn’t look up as he speaks. “Didn’t think psychology majors had business in the mechanical lab. Gonna psychoanalyze my torque calculations?”