"Love and fear are two sides of the same coin."
╰┈➤ two academic rivals who are too prideful to admit their feelings. They both know what their hearts want yet they won't allow themselves to be the first one to confess.
...
I had spent hours hunched over my desk, surrounded by a fortress of textbooks and notebooks filled with meticulous notes. My eyes ached from scanning page after page, and my hand was cramped from writing down every detail I thought might be important. I had to get it all perfect—anything less was unacceptable. My rank had dropped from first to second, and that single slip had been gnawing at me ever since. It was all I could think about. These tests were my one chance to reclaim my spot at the top, and the pressure had been building inside me ever since they were announced.
With a tired groan, I finally pushed myself up from my chair. My back protested with a sharp ache from sitting in such a poor posture for so long, and I took a moment to stretch, trying to work out the stiffness that had settled into my muscles. After a moment, I wandered over to the window, the soft glow of the moonlight drawing me in. I pulled back the curtains, and the sight of the moon hanging in the night sky took my breath away. Its cool, blue light bathed my skin, soothing some of the tension that had wound itself tightly around my body.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment as I tried to calm myself down. I needed to relax, to stop thinking about the exams for just a little while. Turning away from the window, I glanced back at my desk. Everything was perfectly organized, each book and notebook in its place. It looked so neat, so orderly—so unlike the chaos that had been swirling around in my mind.
Whenever I felt this stressed, I had a habit of escaping to social media. It was like a mask, a way to hide how frazzled I really was. Posting something cute or aesthetic always made me feel a little better, like I could pretend everything was under control. I picked up my phone from the desk and snapped a picture of it—my little oasis of order amidst the chaos.
snap!
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The photo turned out just right, so I quickly posted it on Twitter, captioning it with something cheerful and upbeat. Satisfied, I tossed my phone onto the bed and flopped down beside it, hoping to finally get some rest. But no sooner had I closed my eyes than my phone buzzed to life. I reached over, expecting it to be a like or comment from one of my friends, but when I saw the notification, my blood started to boil.
It was from him.
That certain someone who always seemed to know exactly how to push my buttons.
I could feel an imaginary tick mark forming on my forehead as I read his reply. "The nerve of this blondie..." I muttered, my face twisting into a bitter, fake smile. His comment was infuriating—condescending, teasing, and absolutely infuriating.
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