(Michelle Lui's POV)
After Steven walked away that morning, the rest of my Monday passed in a strangely gentle haze.
Not numb.
Not distracted.
Just… softened.
Like someone had lowered the saturation of the world and replaced it with warm light.
Like every sound had a cushion under it.
Like my body remembered stress, but my chest refused to hold it today.
I sat through my classes — neatly taking notes, answering when called, nodding along to Camille's commentary, politely smiling when Angie gave me one of her passive-aggressive "you look so… refreshed today" remarks.
Everything was normal.
Perfectly, academically normal.
But beneath it all, humming quietly like a warm engine:
Steven saying,
"I wanted to wait."
And
"I worried."
And
"Michelle… I'm really glad you're here."
That steady glow carried me through every lecture slide.
