You settled into your study chair, all eager and enthusiastic. Your body and mind still sizzled with the aftermaths of the inspirational message you had just listened to. It was clear to you as day. Your moment of academic comeback was here.
You ignored the dull but insistent pain in your thigh from walking around campus the entire day. At several points, you ignored your rather firm feminist beliefs or what you felt were feminist beliefs and muttered different versions of, “Damn, I need a rich man to take care of me. Can’t keep living like this.” It was no surprise to you that yet another friend of yours had gone on a baecation to some exotic country, boasting that they had millions to settle the lecturer when the time came.
You knew what to do to be where they were, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Cursing your firmly religious background for the umpteenth time, you settled again into your chair to study, letting out a wistful sigh as comprehensive notes with even more complex diagrams stared you in the face. Why did Medicine and Surgery have to be such a difficult department? Why were there diagrams everywhere? And why couldn’t you just get “Lipids” into your head?
You’d set the clock for a six-hour straight study. But you could already feel yourself zone out more times than your head assimilated things in. You contemplated within yourself on whether to switch to TikTok for a few minutes, or see a new episode of “Gossip Girls.” You were still contemplating when his text came in.
I hope you’re okay, sweetie.
You couldn’t fathom were it came from, but you found yourself beaming like the cat who got the cream.
Yeah, just missing you, you typed in reply. It hadn’t double ticked yet, so you quickly edited it to, Yeah, I’m just there. You didn’t want to sound too needy, even though you were bursting with need for this person that had come into your life just a month ago and was already taking you through a whirlwind of unfamiliar emotions.
Your phone pinged again, and you nearly scraped your finger on the sand wall in a haste to pick it up. I saw that, he said, adding a wink emoji. Another text came in almost immediately. When are you going to stop forming hard girl for me, baby?
You preened, nearly hyperventilating with the influx of butterflies in your belly. You loved when he called you baby. From your peripheral version, you could see the clock ticking. It was already midnight. Twelve minutes past twelve am, to be exact, and you needed to start studying now so you could be set for your 8 am class which had a test in store for you.
You realized that you’d been blushing all the while and had forgotten to reply, so you hastily typed a reply to him and kept your phone down, promising not to pick it up anymore. You flipped your textbook open again. Back to Lipids.
As you read, you felt the words disappear from your mind by the second. A memory had come to you. Of this same time three nights ago with the man from your texts. With others asleep and others trying to sleep, you’d had your vision turn pretty much white with the ecstasy that swept you. Bliss that had you shuddering and stuttering and spasming with sheer euphoria. You felt yourself sinking into the memory. Into the depth of reminiscence so exciting, it cast a dark wave of comfort over you.
Voices made you lift your head again. Who talked that loudly at night and why had it become so painfully bright? Standing up in with a start, you glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes past 8 am. “Shit!”
Jhymi🖤
My entry to the Freewriters' Daily Prompt: Set The Clock.
Image created with Meta AI.
Posted Using InLeo Alpha
