"Sometimes, the quietest moments are the loudest—echoing with the names we dare not speak, and the feelings we're too afraid to keep."
The next day.
College carried on like any other, but the air felt different. There was a quiet weight in the atmosphere—today was the last class. From tomorrow, the campus would fall silent. No lectures. No last-minute assignments. No more classroom gossip. Just us... and the upcoming final exams.
In Navara, the nation I call home, education is taken seriously—sometimes too seriously. The final exam at the end of these two years isn't just a test—it's the gateway. The grades we earn will decide the paths we're allowed to pursue, and in some cases, the futures we're allowed to dream of. That's the kind of country Navara is: structured, competitive, unforgiving. And once the final classes are over, a mandatory one-month break is given before the exam—meant solely for preparation.
That break starts tomorrow.
And that also means... today is the last day I'll talk to Lily.
At least until the exams are over.
We made that promise to each other—mutually. We both need to focus. No distractions.
Still, after the night she said, "Let's just enjoy each other's company," I wasn't sure how things would go between us. Would we fall back into the comfort of our usual chats? Or would that confession leave a distance between us?
But reality proved my doubts unnecessary.
We talked just like before. Flirted just like before. Teased and bantered as if nothing had changed.
Only... something had changed. We were closer now—intimately close, even if we didn't call it that. Anyone reading our messages might assume we were in a relationship.
And honestly? Sometimes I wondered if we were.
College ended earlier than usual today. The teachers gave us their best wishes—some warmly, others with a hint of finality. When I stepped out of the campus gates, it hit me: two years gone in what felt like a fleeting breath.
Back home, I freshened up, had lunch, and—like instinct—I reached for my phone.
And there it was, as expected.
A message from her.
"Had lunch yet?"
I smiled at the screen and typed back,
"Yeah. But I'm waiting for the day when you'll cook for me."
She read it instantly.
Her reply came just as quick:
"Keep dreaming."
Before I could type something smug in return, another message followed.
"Today's our last day, right?"
I paused.
"Until the exams are over," I replied.
"Hmmm. Try not to stay up too late, okay? Focus on your studies. Do you hear me?"
I couldn't help but smile.
Was she trying to discipline me now?
"Same to you, ma'am," I texted back, a little amused.
Our conversation continued like that—gentle, teasing, filled with little moments of warmth we'd grown used to. It was almost 1 a.m. by the time we finally said goodbye and wished each other luck.
Two months.
That's how long it would be before we'd talk again. One month for studying. One month for exams.
I hoped we'd both do well.
I was just about to head to bed when my phone lit up with a sudden ring.
Han.
Why was Han calling this late?
I picked up.
"Greetings, Young Master," came his calm, aged voice.
"What is it, Han?"
"Apologies for the disturbance. But there's something that requires your attention. Shall I send over the file?"
"Send it."
"Yes, Young Master."
He hung up.
A minute later, my inbox pinged.
An email. With a file attached.
I opened it and skimmed through the contents. My eyes moved quickly, taking in the key details.
I see.
So that's how it is.
I typed a response and hit send.
Young Master, huh?
It had been a while since someone called me that.
Until I've proven myself, I won't rely on that title.
And I sure as hell won't back down now.
...
The night felt heavier than usual.
It wasn't the air, or the weather—just this strange weight sitting quietly on my chest. I lay in bed, hugging my blanket a little closer, my phone resting beside the pillow, screen dark now.
No more messages.
At least, not for a while.
We said goodnight an hour ago. Said good luck. Promised to focus. Promised to wait.
I know it's the right thing to do—exams are important. We both need this break to study, to prepare. It's only two months. But somehow, even knowing that… doesn't make this feel any easier.
A month without talking to him.
No random jokes. No teasing questions. No morning greetings or late-night "Did you miss me?" texts.
It's strange how someone I've never even met in person has become such a deep part of my everyday life. And now that he's going silent, even temporarily, everything feels too quiet.
Too still.
I turn over in bed, facing the wall, eyes half open in the dark.
Did he feel it too?
That strange emptiness, right after saying goodbye?
I touched the edge of my pillow, fingers absently brushing the corner. I didn't want to admit it—not even to myself—but I already missed him. Missed the version of him that made my day brighter. The one who made me feel… noticed. Special.
Maybe I'm just being dramatic. Maybe this is normal.
But right now, it feels like something important is slipping just slightly out of reach.
And all I can do is wait.
Time passed.
The exams began—and with them, the chaos.
Every day felt like a cycle of pressure: wake up, sit for an exam, come home, prepare for the next one. Over and over, without pause. The routine wrapped around me like a storm that wouldn't let up.
It's been almost a month.
Tomorrow is the final exam.
After that… a different kind of tension begins.
Not exactly rest. More like waiting—heavy, nervous waiting. Because here in Navara, the results are published quickly. A day or two at most. And those results? They shape our future.
Which path we can take. Which dreams we're allowed to chase.
This one month, I've been mostly focused. Buried in books, notes, revisions. But even then—even in the thick of it—he was always there. Not in messages or voice notes… but in quiet memories.
In the way I'd look at my phone before sleeping.
In the smile that sometimes came out of nowhere.
I missed him.
I missed the sound of his teasing texts, the strange calm that always settled over me whenever we talked.
I wonder what he's doing right now.
Did his exams go well?
Did he think of me, too?
Just one more day.
After that… we can talk again.
And somehow, that thought makes the last stretch feel bearable.