Weeks passed in a blur, each day heavy with anticipation. The release of final matric results was approaching, and Elara could feel the pressure weighing her down. She wasn't eating properly, wasn't sleeping well, and slowly—without noticing—she was pushing Zeon away.
He picked up on it first.
"You're not letting me in anymore," he said gently one evening. "I know you're stressed, but I'm here. Let me be here."
That moment snapped her awake. As always, they found a way to talk through it, to pull back toward each other. And on the night before results dropped, he sent her a message:
"Stop stressing. I believe in you. You should believe in yourself too. Whatever the results say, we'll find a way. Together."
But still, Elara couldn't sleep.
She paced the room. Her heart was beating fast. She kept checking the clock. Her hands were sweating, her mind running in circles. Was it enough? Did she make it? Was her future still intact?
At midnight sharp—00:00 exactly—she opened the website, typed in her details, and held her breath.
When the screen loaded, she screamed.
"I PASSED!"
The words echoed in the quiet night. Her body trembled, tears fell freely. She didn't care who heard. The joy, the relief, the pride—it exploded out of her like fireworks.
She ran to her mother's room, jumping into the bed and shouting, "I DID IT!" Her mother's face lit up, eyes wet with emotion as she hugged her daughter tight.
But despite all the joy, there was still one thing missing.
She couldn't call Zeon. He had lost his phone recently.
So she waited.
She remembered what he'd said the last time they were together—that he'd come see her on result day. She trusted that promise.
That morning, she got ready and went to collect her statement from school. She smiled at everyone, proud and shining, surrounded by hugs and congratulations. Then she went home. Her mother danced in the kitchen when she heard the news again, shouting, "My daughter did it!"
But still, Elara waited for one more person to hear it from her.
Later that day, Zeon came.
He knocked on the door, greeted her mother, and came to where she was sitting. The first thing he asked was, "Did you pass?"
She grinned. "Yes."
His eyes lit up, and his voice followed quickly, "Any word from the colleges or universities?"
"Not yet," she replied. "But I'm sure they'll respond soon."
They both sat down and started talking about the future. What they hoped for. What they feared. What they'd do next. There were still so many unknowns, but in that moment, there was one thing that was clear:
They were still each other's person.
And no matter what the results or future held, they would face it together.