Chapter 18
1432 Words
(Ryan POV)
The classroom buzzed with the half-awake chatter of early lectures. Sunlight filtered in through wide, slatted windows, hitting the whiteboard with a soft gleam. Students drifted to their usual seats, some balancing cups of coffee like lifelines. Posters from the recently wrapped festival still clung to bulletin boards, now curled and faded at the corners. The scent of dry markers, paper, and someone’s aggressively strong cologne hung in the air.
Ryan sat in the second row, one leg stretched out, chin resting on his hand. He wasn’t really paying attention—not to the professor scribbling diagrams on the board, not to the girl beside him furiously highlighting her notes, not even to the fact that his own notebook had remained blank for the past ten minutes.
Eli, as usual, had turned his desk into a stage.
“Okay, but tell me honestly,” Eli said, spinning halfway in his seat, “when she almost tripped over that speaker wire? You saw your life flash before your eyes, didn’t you?”
Ryan rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the twitch of a grin. “If by ‘life’ you mean the disaster she would've caused if she pulled down the entire lighting setup, then yeah. Absolutely.”
Laughter bubbled from the group around them. Someone mimicked Hana’s death-glare from the day of the festival. Another did a dramatized version of a junior sobbing over spilled paint. The energy was light, teasing, like everyone was still riding the leftover high from the chaos that had been the university’s spring festival.
“Man,” Eli said, nudging Ryan’s arm, “that seminar room nap of yours made headlines.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes. “It wasn’t a nap.”
“Sure. You just happened to fall asleep next to Firefly. Real subtle.”
Ryan didn’t answer.
Not at first.
Instead, he looked down at his blank notebook. Scribbled something that wasn’t even a word. Tried not to let the flicker of warmth inside his chest show on his face.
Firefly.
The name had found her naturally, like it was waiting for the right moment to emerge.
Raya didn’t burn. She didn’t demand attention or take up too much space. She glowed.
Softly.
Quietly.
And in a world where Ryan often felt like a ghost wandering through concrete, that glow was... noticeable. Disarming, even.
He hadn’t meant to keep going back to the sophomore wing after every planning session. Hadn’t meant to check in on her workload. Or leave those spare sticky notes with small reminders: “Remember to eat.” “Don’t murder Tessa today.” “Sleep = survival.”
But he had.
And now that the festival was over...
Was that it?
No projects. No committee meetings. No reason to be around her anymore.
Just... what? Random hangouts? It wasn’t really his thing. His world didn’t function like that.
Still.
He found himself wondering.
Had she eaten? Had she rested? Was she still carrying that overstuffed canvas bag like she could solve the universe with her color-coded notebooks?
“You’re unusually quiet,” Eli said, breaking his thoughts again. “She tired you out that much?”
Ryan groaned, sinking lower in his seat. “Would you shut up for once?”
Eli grinned. “Nah. Not when your whole vibe is screaming ‘conflicted anime love interest.’”
The cafeteria buzzed with its usual midday disarray—murmurs of conversations, the dull scrap of metal chairs, trays thudding onto tables, and that ever-present scent of soy sauce mixed with burnt toast that clung to the walls like an old story.
Ryan sat across from Eli near the window, their usual corner. The sunlight filtered through the glass in golden patches, dust motes drifting lazily between half-empty soda cans and untouched rice bowls.
Eli tapped his spoon against his bowl, giving Ryan a look. “You’ve been chewing that same grain of rice for the past two minutes. Is it particularly philosophical?”
Ryan didn’t glance up. “Just thinking.”
“That’s code for brooding.”
Ryan huffed a laugh through his nose, barely audible. “We're literature students. Thinking is brooding.”
Eli leaned back, arms crossed, lips twitching. “Fair. But usually, when you’re in this kind of mood, there’s a name attached to it. Four letters. That starts with R.”
“Really?” Ryan deadpanned.
Eli smirked. “Just observing. You’ve been a ghost since morning. You’re usually good at zoning out during lectures, but today you looked... I don’t know. haunted.”
Ryan didn’t respond. Instead, he picked at the edge of his tray, fingernail scraping softly against the plastic. His mind wasn’t here. Not really.
Eli reached for his soda, popping the can open with a soft fizz. “You gonna talk to her? Or are you gonna do that weird guy thing where you pretend your heart didn’t get involved?”
Ryan finally looked up, meeting his gaze. “It’s not like that.”
“Mm.” Eli took a sip. “Sure.”
Ryan was about to roll his eyes again when his phone buzzed on the table, the vibration subtle against the metal.
He didn’t rush to check it. But something about the way it interrupted the air—sharp and sudden—pulled at him.
One glance.
Hana.
Just one message.
"She fainted. You should come."
The world quieted.
He didn’t process it all at once. Didn’t think. Just stood. The metal legs of his chair scraped the tile like a scream.
Eli blinked. “What happened?”
He opened his mouth, but only two words came out. Rough. Hoarse.
“Raya…’”
He was gone before Eli could grab his bag.
The cafeteria’s noise swelled behind him like it belonged to another world entirely.
Eli cursed under his breath, scooping up their trays and tossing their bags over his shoulders.
Then he ran.
The clinic was quiet, tucked away at the far end of campus. Fluorescent lights buzzed softly above, and the cold hum of the AC pressed into the sterile walls. Ryan arrived breathless, steps faltering as he crossed the threshold. Tessa and Hana were there.
Tessa looked up first. She was seated beside the cot, fingers twisted in her lap. Her usual calm had a thin edge.
Hana stood near the window, gaze locked on the floor. Her arms were crossed, but it wasn’t her usual detached posture—it was tight. Protective.
And there, beneath the pale blanket, lay Raya.
Still. Small. Eyes shut like she was just resting, like this was all just an accident.
Ryan's steps slowed. He barely felt the floor beneath his shoes.
Tessa stood halfway. “She’s stable,” she said, voice low. “The nurse said she fainted from exhaustion. Low blood sugar. She’s just... been pushing too hard.”
Hana didn’t turn. “She didn’t tell us how bad it was. Even when we asked.”
Ryan didn’t speak. He was too busy watching Raya breathe.
Each shallow inhale felt like proof that she was still here.
He couldn’t say it but when he heard she fainted that feeling had done something terrifying to him. Something he couldn’t name yet.
She shifted faintly. A slow blink. Her lashes fluttered before her eyes finally opened.
“Tess..?” she mumbled.
“I’m here,” Tessa replied quickly, leaning over.
Then her gaze shifted.
Ryan was still rooted in place.
“You look like you saw a ghost,” she murmured, her voice faint but teasing. “Did I really scare you that much?”
He stepped closer, then dropped to one knee beside the cot. His eyes never left hers.
“Don’t do that again,” he said, soft but steady.
They both knew he wasn’t talking about how she looked.
“That wasn’t the plan,” she murmured, her smile barely there.
Eli arrived, panting, bags still slung over both shoulders.
“Seriously,” he said, “You could’ve just texted ‘emergency’ or something. I thought someone died.”
Tessa rolled her eyes. “Someone almost did.”
“Not helping,” Hana muttered.
She gave them a small smile. It barely reached her eyes. “I’m okay now.”
“Stop saying you are okay”, Tess replied.
Ryan didn’t move. He just stayed there, near her, watching the pale rise and fall of her chest.
She looked different like this.
She was glowing, even in this dim room. But this time, the glow looked... fragile.
Like if he blinked too hard, it might disappear.
- Writer
