Experiment of Madness

64-Losing and winning-Aerra

Epilog.

After five years .

I make my way out of my lecture, rubbing my temple as the headache from endless studying persists. Walking beside me is my friend, our conversation flowing amidst the bustling university atmosphere.

My boyfriend emerges with a bouquet of orange flowers and a chocolate in hand, and I can't help but smile upon seeing him. His appearance warms my heart, reminding me of his care and thoughtfulness.

My voice comes out softly, appreciating his gesture. "Dag, you didn't have to..." I murmur, my words filled with both surprise and gratitude, appreciative of the unexpected gesture.

Despite our busy schedules and the distance between our universities, he still made the effort to come all this way, just to be with me. It warms my heart to know that he still makes time for me amidst our busy lives.

He smiles softly, his expression filled with both love and joy. "I missed you, so I came to see you," he explains, his voice carrying a mix of happiness and appreciation.

I embrace him warmly, squeezing him tightly, feeling his familiar presence and the gentle beating of his heart. It feels like a breath of fresh air, a moment of comfort in our hectic lives.

I admit, my voice tinged with exhaustion. "I'm so tired; this university is killing me," I murmur, the weight of studies and responsibilities evident in my tone. The university demands so much, leaving me feeling overwhelmed and worn out.He looks down at me, his eyes filled with understanding. "Hey, it's okay. You are doing great," he encourages, his voice steady and comforting. He takes my bag as if relieving me a bit of my burden.

I can't help but crack a small smile, my reply playful. "Says the straight-A student," I teasingly quip, referencing his impressive academic record. He chuckles, a soft sound of amusement. "Alright, alright," he concedes, acknowledging the fact that he's a top student. His smile is warm, his gaze tender as he looks at me.

I chuckle as well, running my fingers through my hair, noticing the white strands that have started appearing amidst the darkness. "I actually have to dye my hair again; the white starts showing," I murmur, my hand still in my hair, a hint of embarrassment in my voice.

My words come out as a soft groan. "Targaryen hair is so annoying," I mutter, my hand still messing with my hair, a hint of exasperation in my voice. It's not the first time I've complained about the white strands of my hair, a constant reminder of my lineage.
My boyfriend raises his eyebrow. "Hey, it's not that bad," he says, a small smile playing on his lips as he looks at my hair, finding the color interesting. He's not wrong; the mix of white and brunette gives my hair a unique hue. "It's quite beautiful if I'm honest," he says, his honest opinion making my cheeks flush a shade of rose.

The thought echoes in my mind: "You're all alone," an inner voice reminding me of the solitude that often creeps up on me, a whisper of a feeling I've grown used to.

In response, my thoughts are stern. "No, shut up, I'm having a moment with my boyfriend," I counteract internally, trying to dismiss the nagging feeling.

I take his hand, our fingers interlocking, feeling the familiar warmth of his palm against mine. We walk in the university, our footsteps in sync, my heart lighter in his presence. The weight on my shoulders seems to lessen, his presence a reassurance amidst the chaos and anxiety of university life.

Our conversation flows easily, our footsteps taking us towards the university parking lot. "How is the experiment?" I inquire, curious about his latest research. "It's actually going well," he says, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He continues to explain the progress they've made recently, his enthusiasm evident in his words.