As It Was

The first thing you registered when you woke up was the warmth of the blankets wrapped around you, cocooning you in soft comfort. The second was the quiet.

Not the kind of silence that felt empty, but the kind that came from familiarity—the kind that settled between you and Liam the way it always had.

Like last night hadn’t changed anything.

Like last night had changed everything.

You exhaled slowly, blinking up at the ceiling. The weight in your chest from the night before was still there, but… lighter. Manageable.

And that was enough.

The scent of coffee drifted through the air, meaning Liam had already been up long enough to brew a pot. Your heart squeezed at the simple normalcy of it. Just another morning. Just two best friends waking up in their shared dorm, getting ready to go to class.

Like always.

Your feet hit the floor, and you instinctively grabbed a change of clothes before heading straight for the bathroom. Because Liam still shared your bedroom. And while you’d gotten used to him seeing you in some level of disarray, the thought of changing in front of him now—after everything—sent a strange shiver down your spine.

So. Bathroom it was.

The light flickered on as you shut the door behind you, sighing softly. You looked at yourself in the mirror—at the mess of tangled hair, the faint puffiness under your eyes. You looked normal. But there was something… off.

Not wrong. Just different.

You shook off the thought, turning the faucet on and splashing your face with cold water before brushing your teeth. You weren’t going to linger on last night. You weren’t going to overanalyze the way Liam had held you. You weren’t going to think about—

You weren’t going to think about it.

You grabbed your towel and stepped into the shower. The hot water hit your shoulders, easing tension you hadn’t realized you were carrying. You let yourself relax into it, taking your time. The lather of your shampoo, the scent of vanilla and jasmine filling the air, the steam curling around you—it was all part of a routine that felt familiar. Grounding.

By the time you stepped out, skin warm from the heat, you felt… better. Like you could do this. Like today could just be a normal day.

You reached for your clothes, already laid out on the counter. Starting with lingerie, because—well. Of course.

You pulled on a matching black lace bra and panties—simple, yet undeniably pretty. The bra hugged you just right, delicate floral lace pressing against your skin, the sheer fabric adding just the faintest hint of elegance. The panties sat high on your hips, seamless under clothing but luxurious in how they felt.

Then came the stockings—thin, sheer, stretching smoothly up your legs as you carefully adjusted them into place. They stopped mid-thigh, held up by a subtle band of lace that felt almost too indulgent for just another day on campus, but… you liked the way they made you feel.

A quiet little secret.

Next, you slipped into a white high-neck knit tank top—form-fitting but not too tight, the soft fabric clinging to your torso comfortably. For the bottom half, you chose a pencil skirt—hugging your shape in a way that felt effortlessly polished. The cut elongated your legs, the fabric smooth against your skin, brushing against the lace of your stockings in a way that sent an unexpected little shiver up your spine.

Finishing touches—black pointed-toe heels, sharp and sophisticated, adding just enough height to make you feel put together.

You gave yourself a once-over in the mirror.

Sharp. Elegant. Effortless.

You leaned in, reaching for your makeup bag.

Nothing too minimal today. If you were going to step back into routine, you were going to do it looking your best.

You started with foundation, blending it smoothly into your skin, evening out any lingering signs of exhaustion. A touch of concealer under your eyes—subtle, brightening. Bronzer to sculpt, giving your features just a little more depth, blush brushed onto your cheekbones for that natural, effortless flush.

For the eyes, you reached for a neutral-toned eyeshadow palette, blending soft browns into your crease before adding just a touch of shimmer at the center. A flick of black eyeliner, precise and sharp, just enough to subtly lift your eyes. And of course—mascara, lengthening and darkening your lashes until they framed your gaze perfectly.

Lastly—lips.

You debated for a moment before settling on a deep mauve lipstick—rich but not overpowering, the perfect balance between bold and natural.

You stepped back, tilting your head slightly.

…Yeah. That would do.

You grabbed your things and stepped out into the dorm, only to immediately hear Liam’s voice from the couch.

“Damn.”

You blinked, mid-step. “What?”

Liam smirked, giving you a once-over. “You look insanely put together, even for a 1PM lecture.”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched. “So I should have just shown up looking like you, then?”

“Wow.” He put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know, this hoodie is vintage.”

“It’s literally just old.”

“Vintage,” he insisted.

You shook your head, grabbing your bag. “Let’s go.”

The campus was alive with the morning rush—students filing into buildings, chatter filling the crisp air.

You and Liam fell into step like always. Talking. Bantering. Falling into the natural ease of everything.

“You know,” Liam said, side-eyeing you. “I do kind of miss just showing up to class in whatever I slept in. But then I walk next to you and suddenly I feel underqualified to be here.”

You snorted. “You could put in some effort.”

“Or,” he countered, “I could just let you carry the hotness in this duo. Balance it out.”

You shot him a look. “Did you just call me hot?”

He smirked. “Well, I was gonna say ‘intimidatingly well-dressed,’ but, y’know. Same thing.”

You felt… something at that. Warm. You pushed it down.

“I’ll take it,” you said, bumping your shoulder against his.

And as you walked to class together, the rhythm of everything sliding back into place, you realized—

Maybe today really could just be normal. Almost.

The lecture hall was already half-full by the time you and Liam walked in, students sprawled across rows of seats, some hunched over laptops, others scrolling through their phones while waiting for class to start.

You followed Liam up a few steps before sliding into two seats in the middle, the same unspoken rule you’d followed for years—never the front, never the very back. A perfect middle ground of appearing engaged without actually being volunteered for anything.

Liam dropped his bag onto the table with a dramatic sigh, already leaning back in his chair as he stretched his arms over his head. “You know, if you wanted to recreate the college experience, we could’ve skipped the actual class part.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling your laptop from your bag. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I need—more missed classes.”

He shot you a look, then tapped his fingers against the desk. “Right. Because you definitely kept up with readings in your free time.”

“…Shut up.”

Liam snorted but didn’t push further as the professor entered the room, the murmur of voices settling into silence.

You exhaled slowly, fingers hovering over your keyboard as the lecture began. It took effort to tune in. Serious effort.

It wasn’t just the sheer amount of material you’d missed—it was the act of being here again. Sitting in a lecture hall, trying to keep up, taking notes like this was just another semester. Like you hadn’t spent the past five months navigating… everything else.

You needed to focus. So you typed.

Each slide, each key point—your fingers moved fast, filling the screen with notes, absorbing as much as you could.

But then—

Tap.

Your eyes flicked to your side as Liam nudged your elbow, keeping his gaze on the professor like he hadn’t just done it on purpose. You frowned. He tapped again.

You glanced at him fully this time, and he casually turned his laptop screen toward you.

A note, typed in the middle of a blank document:

“How do I drop out of college but still get rich?”

You pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh, before typing below it:

“Be born into old money.”

Liam sighed dramatically before adding:

“Damn. Guess I’ll settle for being stupid hot instead.”

You shot him a flat look before replying:

“Bold of you to assume you’re hot.”

Liam put a hand to his chest in mock offense but didn’t reply—because the professor had turned to face the class, eyes scanning the room as they asked a question.

There was a pause. A too-long pause. You realized, too late, that the professor was looking directly at you.

Your stomach dropped.

“…Uh.”

Liam, bless him, jumped in instantly. “She was just about to say that the core argument in the paper is flawed because it relies on outdated research.”

The professor nodded. “Good. But can you expand on that?”

You opened your mouth, trying to piece together what the hell Liam had just thrown you into—

But he just leaned back, smirking slightly, mouthing: You’re welcome.

You were going to kill him.

---

You shoved your laptop into your bag as soon as the lecture ended, turning to Liam as you stood. “You are the worst.”

He grinned, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “I saved you.”

“You set me up.”

“Technically, you set yourself up by not paying attention.”

You huffed, crossing your arms as you stepped into the hallway, students streaming past you in every direction. Liam easily fell into step beside you, hands tucked into his hoodie pocket.

“So,” he mused, “how’s it feel being a student again?”

“…Overwhelming,” you admitted. “But also… kind of nice?”

Liam raised a brow. “You sure about that?”

You hesitated. Wasn’t this what you’d wanted? To just… slip back into things? To be a student again, to go to class, to exist without everything feeling like it was spinning out of control?

But there was something strange about it, too. Something about sitting in a classroom again, scribbling notes like nothing had changed, when everything had changed.

“I think I just need to get back into the rhythm,” you said.

Liam nodded. “Alright. Then we’ll keep at it.”

There was no hesitation in his voice. No teasing. Just that easy, natural Liam certainty.

The next class went about the same. You tried to focus. You mostly succeeded.

Except for the moments Liam leaned in to whisper something snarky under his breath. Or the way he typed on his laptop without looking at the screen, because somehow, even while half-listening, he still knew exactly what notes to take.

Or the small things.

Like the way he tapped his pen against the desk when he was getting restless. The way he absentmindedly played with the drawstring of his hoodie. The way his lips curled when he was amused by something.

All of it was normal. Nothing you hadn’t seen a million times before. And yet, something about it felt different.

And by the time class ended, by the time you and Liam grabbed your bags and stepped outside into the crisp air, it hit you—today was a normal day.

The walk back to the dorm was cold, the kind of crisp evening air that bit at your cheeks but wasn’t unbearable. The streets were still alive with the hum of city traffic, headlights flashing across damp pavement, groups of students passing by in bursts of laughter.

Beside you, Liam walked with his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket, his usual easy stride keeping pace with yours.

“Okay, I don’t know about you,” he started, “but I am starving.”

You sighed, stretching your arms over your head. “That’s because you refused to eat before class.”

“I was rushing to get ready because somebody was hogging the bathroom,” Liam shot back.

You glanced at him, unimpressed. “It’s not ‘hogging’ when it’s my turn to shower.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Point is, we need food.”

You nodded, considering. It was late. The options were limited unless you wanted to go somewhere actually nice, and neither of you had the patience for that.

Liam suddenly perked up. “McDonald’s?”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “Screw it. Yeah.”

And just like that, decision made.

The McDonald's near campus was exactly as you remembered—bright fluorescent lights, the faint smell of fryer oil, and an oddly long line for this time of night. The menu boards flickered slightly, displaying the same options you’d seen a thousand times before.

Liam cracked his knuckles as you both stepped up to the counter, scanning the menu like he hadn’t already made up his mind.

The cashier, a girl with a name tag that read Erica, offered a polite, practiced smile. “Welcome to McDonald’s. What can I get for you?”

Liam leaned on the counter slightly. “I’ll have a Big Mac meal, large, with extra pickles. And a six-piece nuggets. And—” he turned to you, tilting his head—“What do we think about a McFlurry? Too much?”

You rolled your eyes. “When have you ever thought something was ‘too much’?”

Liam grinned. “Good point. One Oreo McFlurry, please.”

Erica nodded, punching in the order before turning to you. “And for you?”

You didn’t even need to think. “Medium McChicken meal, extra mayo. Side of fries. Oh, and—” you squinted at the drink options, “—a Sprite.”

Liam made a face. “McDonald’s Sprite? You trying to obliterate your taste buds?”

You shrugged. “It’s good.”

“You say that like it’s not battery acid in a cup.”

Erica was watching the two of you now, mildly amused. “Anything else?”

Liam grinned. “Yeah. Can you tell my friend here that McDonald’s Sprite is actually just liquified lightning?”

You shot him a look. “Ignore him.”

Erica, to her credit, only nodded politely. “Alright, total comes to—”

Liam had already tapped his card against the reader.

You frowned. “Hey, I was gonna—”

“Too late,” Liam said, pocketing his card with a smirk.

You sighed, but let it slide.

The two of you found a booth by the window, slipping into the worn red seats. The food was still too hot when you unwrapped it, the fries practically steaming as you grabbed one and popped it into your mouth.

Liam, already halfway through his Big Mac, pointed at you with it. “So,” he said, chewing, “real talk—how bad is the academic damage?”

You groaned. “Catastrophic.”

“That bad?”

You exhaled. “Okay, maybe not failing every class bad, but definitely I need to study and stop-letting-my-life-be-dictated-by-gods bad.”

Liam snorted. “Yeah, that second one might be a little trickier.”

You threw a fry at him. “Gee, thanks.”

He caught it midair and ate it. You gave him a deadpan look.

“So,” he continued, unbothered, “what’s the game plan?”

You exhaled, tapping your nails against your Sprite cup. “Cram. Go to every lecture. Actually study instead of barely skimming the slides the night before an exam.”

Liam hummed, dipping a fry into his BBQ sauce. “I mean, worst case, you could always seduce the prof.”

You choked on your drink.

“I’m kidding!” Liam laughed, holding up a hand. “Mostly.”

You gave him a look. “That’s a joke that would’ve landed differently five months ago.”

Liam’s smirk faded for half a second—barely noticeable, but it was there.

Then he shrugged. “Maybe.”

Neither of you pushed it further.

Instead, the conversation drifted—jumping from class to the weirdest people you’d encountered on campus, to that one time Liam had accidentally signed up for a class thinking it was an elective, only to realize it was third-year quantum physics.

“I swear it said ‘Science in Society’!”

“Yeah, and it also said ‘Advanced Theoretical Applications’!”

And at some point, you noticed—

How easy this was. How natural. How it didn’t feel like five months had passed, like your life had been flipped upside down, like everything had changed.

Because here you were, sitting in a McDonald’s with Liam, sharing fries, bantering like nothing was different.

But it was different. In a way you couldn’t pinpoint. In a way you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

You stuffed the last fry into your mouth as you slid out of the booth, tossing your trash onto the tray. Liam did the same, stretching his arms over his head before grabbing the McFlurry.

“Not done with that?” you asked.

He raised a brow. “You never abandon a McFlurry.”

You smirked, shaking your head as you both stepped out onto the sidewalk. The city was quieter now, the night settling in. The air had a sharper chill, the kind that made you instinctively cross your arms.

You walked side by side, just like you always had, heading back to the dorm. Like nothing had changed.

Even though, deep down, something had.