The week flow.
The cursor blinked at Luca. Mocking him.
He deleted the last paragraph for the third time, scrolled back up, reread the section.
Still wrong. Something about the methodology didn't flow—his argument fell apart halfway through like a house built on sand.
The library hummed around him. Quiet keystrokes, the rustle of pages, someone's phone vibrating against wood.
Luca pressed his palms against his eyes. His capstone was due for review in four days, and right now it read like three different papers fighting for dominance.
A coffee cup appeared beside his laptop. Still steaming.
Luca looked up. Noel stood there, messenger bag slung over one shoulder, hair slightly disheveled from the wind outside.
He held his own cup—tea, probably, because Noel claimed coffee after 2 PM made him jittery.
"You looked like you needed reinforcements," Noel said, sliding into the chair across from him.
"You're done already?"
