RED NOTES AND KISSES-Chapter 17: FRIDA -

The test period was absolute chaos, and Frida felt like she was barely holding it together.

Her life had become a never-ending cycle of sleepless nights, rushed meals, and marathon study sessions.

Every free moment not spent in class was spent in the library, hunched over her notes like they held the secret to survival.

The relentless pressure weighed on her, and even the smallest tasks felt monumental.

It had been a month since the last red note, and Laz had returned to campus.

But just like her, he was scarce, buried under the weight of assignments and responsibilities.

Life had settled into a dull routine, eat, sleep, memorize medical terms, repeat.

The adrenaline of the red notes and Laz's enigmatic presence had faded, leaving behind a void she wasn't ready to acknowledge.

Frida groaned as she flipped through yet another page of her textbook, the words blurring together into an incomprehensible soup of jargon.

Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, and she silently thanked Vanessa for stocking the fridge with her favorite grape energy drinks.

It wasn't like Vanessa to be so generous, but Frida wasn't about to question it. Those drinks had been her lifeline during this grueling period.

Today was the final day of tests, and relief was almost within reach. Almost.

She sat cross-legged on the tennis court, her notes spread out before her, muttering the names of muscles and medications under her breath.

The campus was eerily quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of students passing by in their own states of stress.

But suddenly, frustration overtook her. She couldn't take another second of staring at her notes, another second of this grueling monotony.

Stuffing her papers hastily into her bag, she stood abruptly, ready to leave...

And collided straight into someone.

The impact sent her staggering back a step, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes darted up.

Stormy grey eyes locked onto hers, intense and unrelenting.

Laz.

Her mind went blank.

All the terms she had been reciting, the steps of procedures, the endless anatomy diagrams she had memorized, they all vanished.

It was just him.

Her heart raced in her chest as the world around her seemed to fade, leaving only the weight of his presence and the suffocating tension between them.

"Frida," Laz said, his voice low and smooth, like the whisper of a secret she wasn't supposed to know.

He was talking to her?

Her throat felt dry, and she managed only a nod, unsure if she was even capable of speech.

His eyes flicked down to the scattered papers spilling out of her bag, then back to her face.

"Studying out here?" he asked, his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

"I-I needed fresh air," she stammered, her voice betraying her flustered state.

His gaze lingered, heavy and unyielding, as if he could see through her excuses and into the truth she wasn't ready to admit, not even to herself.

The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken current crackling in the charged silence.

Laz shifted closer, and she felt the heat radiating from him, the faint scent of cedar and rain clinging to his clothes.

"You look like you haven't slept in days," he murmured, his voice carrying a note of concern that she hadn't expected.

"Neither have you," she shot back, surprising herself with the sharpness in her tone.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and deep, sending a shiver down her spine. "Fair enough."

When was the last time she heard him laugh?

For a moment, they just stood there, the air between them thick with something neither of them could name.

Frida's pulse thundered in her ears, and she wondered if he could hear it, if he could feel the chaos he stirred in her with just his presence.

"I should-" she began, gesturing vaguely to her bag, but her words faltered when he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

The touch was light, almost tentative, but it set her nerves on fire. Her breath hitched, and she felt her cheeks heat under his gaze.

"You should take a break," Laz said, his fingers lingering for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he let them drop.

She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "I don't have time for a break. The test-"

"You'll do fine," he interrupted, his confidence in her unwavering. "You always do."

His words, simple as they were, sent a warmth spreading through her chest, chasing away the cold grip of doubt that had been gnawing at her all week.

Frida hesitated, torn between the urge to flee and the desire to stay rooted in this moment, to bask in the intoxicating proximity of him.

She didn't trust herself around him, not when her resolve felt so fragile, so easily unraveled by the way he looked at her.

"I should go," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Laz didn't move, his eyes searching hers as if trying to read the thoughts she refused to voice.

"Frida," he said softly, and the way her name rolled off his tongue sent her heart into a tailspin.

"Don't run away from me."

Her breath caught, and for a fleeting second, she wondered what it would feel like to close the distance between them, to let herself drown in the storm he carried with him.

But the thought was dangerous, reckless, and she couldn't afford to lose herself like that, not now.

"I'm not running," she lied, her voice steadier than she expected.

He tilted his head, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "If you say so."

The tension between them was unbearable, a taut wire ready to snap.

Frida felt the pull of him, magnetic and impossible to resist, and she hated how easily he unraveled her composure with just a look, a touch, a word.

She took a shaky step back, her bag slung over her shoulder, and forced herself to meet his gaze one last time.

"Good luck on your test," she said, the words feeling hollow as they left her lips.

"You too," Laz replied, his voice softer now, as if he could sense the finality in her tone.

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Frida turned and walked away, her steps hurried and uneven as she put distance between them. Her heart was still racing when she reached her dorm, her chest tight with emotion.

And then it hit her.

None of it was real.

She'd fallen asleep.

She blinked hard, snapping back to reality, and glanced toward the tennis court.

Laz was still there, completely unaware of her spiraling thoughts, playing tennis with a group of friends.

She let out a shaky laugh, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

All of that... was just my imagination.