Love At Last

Meeting Lukas

(Vile's POV)

As I stepped off the plane in Auburn, Alabama, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me. I was excited about the adventure ahead, for the dream I had worked so hard to achieve—Auburn University. But at the same time, a dull ache settled in my chest. I had left behind the familiar buzz of New York City, my family, and most of all, Nat.

The airport was quiet that morning, the sky overcast but warm. It felt like the city itself was giving me a soft landing into this new life. I clutched my backpack a little tighter and whispered to myself," You’ve got this" .

First-year student orientation was a blur. Icebreakers, tours, endless introductions—I met dozens of people, but no one really stuck. Everyone seemed to be trying too hard, or too distracted to form anything meaningful. That was, until I met Lukas.

He was standing by his locker, fumbling with a combination lock and muttering under his breath. He didn’t look American, and sure enough, when I asked, he told me he was part of a student exchange program from Germany. There was something easy about him—relaxed, confident, and curious in a way that drew people in. We clicked almost instantly.

We bonded over our mutual love of science, sports, and music. Lukas introduced me to German rap, and I showed him my favorite hip-hop playlists. He loved experimenting with southern food and kept a running list of places he wanted to try. We were both adventurers at heart, so when the weekends rolled around, we explored the city together like tourists with unlimited time.

Alabama surprised me. The charm, the food, the people—it had a slower pace than New York, but it grew on me. Lukas and I visited the Rosa Parks Museum, strolled through parks and historic neighborhoods, and even took a weekend trip to the white-sanded beaches. We tried everything from fried catfish to smoky barbecue and spicy shrimp boil. I never thought I’d love southern food this much.

Not long after, we decided to move in together and found a cozy off-campus apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was ours. We decorated with posters, random souvenirs from our trips, and so many snacks. It started to feel like home.

Classes were tough. Auburn’s science program was no joke. But I was up for the challenge. I’ve always been a good student, and I knew what it took to stay focused. Lukas made it easier—he was sharp, organized, and motivated. We studied together late into the night, sometimes quizzing each other until one of us fell asleep mid-sentence.

Still, despite the noise and the newness, there was always something missing.

Nat.

Every quiet moment reminded me of her—her laugh, her fire, the way she used to lean over my shoulder when I was reading, or poke fun at how serious I looked when I was thinking. We’d been inseparable for so long that her absence felt like a part of me had been misplaced.

I missed her texts, her silly GIFs, and our random conversations at 2 a.m. And when I missed her most, I would run my thumb along the bracelet she gave me before we said goodbye. She had made it by hand, out of woven threads, beads, and tiny stones from our adventures. It wasn't just a gift. It was her—a part of her soul wrapped around my wrist.

I never took it off.

It grounded me, reminded me that even though we were miles apart, she hadn’t disappeared. We were still connected.

Lukas noticed it once. “That bracelet has a story,” he said one evening as we were watching a game. I just nodded and smiled.

“Yeah. It’s a long one.”

As the weeks passed, our routine settled in. Morning runs, campus coffee, classes, and study sessions. We had movie nights and game nights. Lukas introduced me to card games I’d never heard of, and I taught him how to make pancakes the “New York way,” which was just me adding chocolate chips and pretending I knew what I was doing.

But in those quiet in-between moments—walking to class, brushing my teeth, laying in bed at night—my mind would drift back to Nat. I wondered if she was settling in if she was happy. Was she making new friends? Did she still wear the necklace I gave her?

That necklace had been chosen with so much care. Gold, simple, elegant—just like her. I wanted her to have something special, something that would remind her she wasn’t alone. I pictured it around her neck, resting just above her heart, and I smiled.

We often called, usually at night when the day had slowed down. We'd catch up on everything, from professors we didn’t like, to the funny things we saw on campus. It felt good to hear her voice. It brought me peace.

Even when the distance hurt, our bond stayed strong. Every call reminded me that no matter where we were in the world, she was still my best friend. Nothing would ever change that.

As the semester began to wind down, the days moved faster. Projects piled up. Exams loomed. Lukas and I powered through, helping each other stay on track. And then, suddenly, the end of the semester was here.

It meant going home. It meant seeing Nat.

The thought made my heart race. I couldn’t wait. I started packing a week early, going over every detail. I wanted to be done with everything—assignments, exams, everything—so I could spend as much time with her as possible.

One afternoon, I turned to Lukas while organizing my suitcase.

“Wanna come with me to the airport? I need to book my flight and maybe grab a bite.”

He looked up from his laptop, hesitated for a second, then shook his head.

“Can’t, man. Got some things to handle.”

I was surprised. Lukas rarely turned down a chance to hang out. But I nodded. “Alright, no worries.”

I didn’t think much of it at the time. I was too focused on getting home. On seeing her.

On seeing Nat.