The buzz of fluorescent lights in the university library was a background hum to the chaos inside Talia's head. Anatomy diagrams, pharmacology flashcards, and empty coffee cups surrounded her like battlefield wreckage. Her highlighter was dried out. Her brain, nearly the same.
Across from her, Ezra sat calmly, posture straight, eyes skimming through notes with the grace of someone who actually enjoyed this. He was the picture of composure. Meanwhile, she felt like she was one molecular pathway away from dramatic collapse.
"I can't do this," Talia muttered, tossing her flashcard onto the pile.
Ezra looked up. "You've said that every hour for the past five hours. Statistically, that means you're due for a breakthrough."
She shot him a death glare. "If I didn't love you, I'd throw this mug at your face."
He leaned forward, a smirk tugging at his lips. "But you do love me."
"Unfortunately."
"And you're going to pass these exams," he said, softer now. "Because you're smart. You've worked your ass off. And because you promised me a future with you in it."
Talia stared at him, his expression earnest. The library around them faded into soft blur—stressed students, shuffling books, clicking pens—all background to the steadiness in his voice.
"You still want that?" she asked, quieter.
Ezra didn't hesitate. "More every day."
She chewed on her bottom lip. "I've just been so focused on surviving this semester I haven't even thought about… after."
"Well, I have," he said, closing his textbook. "I've thought about internships, and graduation, and moving in officially. Not just staying in your apartment half the week. I've thought about where we'd go, what hospital we'd end up at, if we'd still make coffee at midnight or sleep normal human hours."
Talia softened. "You've thought about all that?"
He smiled. "I even Googled how much you can bench press before proposing."
She laughed, tension cracking off her shoulders like old paint. "You know I'm not saying no because you didn't get me a diamond, right?"
"I know," he said. "You said yes already. The ribbon counts."
She twisted her finger slightly, the soft ivory ribbon still knotted there like a secret vow. Somehow it hadn't fallen off. Somehow it still felt just right.
"After exams," she said, eyes locking on his. "We'll figure out the next thing. I just need to survive the next two weeks."
Ezra nodded. "One chapter at a time."
Those two weeks were brutal.
Nights bled into mornings. Talia barely slept. She and Ezra saw each other mostly through bleary eyes and study notes scribbled on the backs of receipts. But every now and then, in the middle of it all, they found slivers of light.
An espresso delivered without asking. A forehead kiss before rushing out the door. Silent, half-asleep cuddles at dawn.
Love didn't disappear under pressure—it just adapted.
On the night of their last exam, they stumbled out of the lecture hall into the cold Marseille evening, heads buzzing and hearts light. Talia groaned as she collapsed onto a nearby bench.
"I don't even know what I wrote in that essay," she mumbled. "I might've invented a new drug protocol."
Ezra flopped down beside her. "If you did, at least you'll get credit for innovation."
They sat there in the orange glow of the streetlights, silence stretching. Then Talia said, "We did it."
He looked over. "We did."
They smiled at each other, something unspoken hanging between them. It wasn't just the end of exams. It was the beginning of all the things they'd paused for the sake of survival.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a tiny folded piece of paper.
"What's that?" he asked.
"A plan," she said, handing it over.
Ezra opened it.
It wasn't a schedule or a map. It was a list. Scribbled in Talia's unmistakable handwriting:
After Exams:
Sleep for 20 hours
Eat a ridiculous amount of pizza
Apply for hospital rotations together
Find an apartment with a balcony
Start forever. Slowly. But really start it.
Ezra read it twice, then pulled her close, arms wrapped tight around her shoulders. "You didn't have to write this."
"I wanted to," she said, burying her face in his chest. "Because the future always felt like this abstract thing. And now it's here. And I want it—with you."
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. "We'll do every one of those. Even the pizza part."
"Especially the pizza part."
They laughed. They kissed. And for the first time in months, the world didn't feel so heavy.
It just felt full.