College Is Like A Chronic Migraine [Murder Drones Human College AU]

Moving Day

The afternoon sun poured through the windows of Uzi and Sam’s college apartment, casting long shadows on the worn wooden floor. The place was a mess, as always—a chaotic blend of textbooks, clothes, and various pieces of tech Uzi had been tinkering with while bored at home. But today, something felt different. There was an air of change, a sense of finality that hung in the room like a cloud.

Uzi sat on the couch, her hand resting protectively over her swollen belly. Seven months pregnant, she had that unique glow about her—a mixture of maternal warmth and the fierce independence that had always defined her. She absently fiddled with a loose thread on her shirt, her mind elsewhere, wandering through the uncertainties and possibilities of the future.

N stood by the window, looking out at the campus below. His expression was one of quiet contemplation, the kind that comes when life is on the cusp of transformation. His thoughts were on Uzi and the life they were about to bring into the world, but also on the conversation they needed to have. They had been dancing around the topic for weeks, but with the baby so close, it was time to make a decision.

“We need to talk about where we’re gonna live,” Uzi said, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm, but there was a weight to her words, a seriousness that N knew better than to ignore.

He turned to face her, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too. We can’t exactly raise a baby here.”

Uzi snorted, glancing around the cluttered apartment. “You think? Sam’s great and all, but I don’t think he’s ready for the whole ‘baby crying at 3 AM’ lifestyle. And you're the father, and I don't even live with you. Besides, we need space. Somewhere we can actually, you know, build a life.”

N crossed the room and sat down beside her, taking her hand in his. “I’ve got some money left over. We could buy a house. A nice one. Something with a backyard, maybe a garden where our daughter can play when she’s older.”

Uzi’s eyes lit up at the mention of a garden, but then she smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “What about a greenhouse? I need somewhere to grow my weed, you know.”

N chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course you do. Yeah, I’m sure we can find something with a greenhouse too.”

They spent the next hour scrolling through real estate listings on Uzi’s tablet, debating the merits of each house they found. Uzi was surprisingly picky—she wanted something modern but with character, a house that felt like a home but didn’t scream “suburbia.” And, of course, it had to have space for her greenhouse.

Finally, they found it—a beautiful two-story house on the outskirts of town, nestled in a quiet neighborhood surrounded by trees. It had a spacious backyard, complete with a garden and a small, glass-walled greenhouse. The kitchen was large enough for Uzi to indulge her newfound interest in cooking, and there was a cozy living room with a fireplace that N could already picture them sitting by on winter nights.

“This is it,” Uzi said, her voice filled with certainty. “This is where we’re supposed to be.”

N smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. “I’ll make the call. Let’s get this place.”

As they sat back, the reality of what they were doing started to sink in. They were buying a house, starting a family. It was exciting, but also terrifying. There was so much to think about, so much responsibility. But they had each other, and that was enough.

Later that evening, Sam stood in the doorway of Uzi’s room, watching as she packed the last of her things into a cardboard box. His usual carefree demeanor was tinged with something else—something almost resembling sadness.