It's been two weeks since our first date, and I've learned something new: dating Andre Lacoste is like signing up for a full-time course in ridiculous sweetness.
He's still the same law student who makes bad jokes, forgets his notes, and somehow wins every argument. The only difference now is that he's my law student — and I still don't know how that happened.
Every morning starts the same way:
> Good morning, Doctor. Have you eaten? Don't skip breakfast or I'll sue you for malpractice.
I roll my eyes every time, but I reply anyway:
> I'd like to see you try, counselor. Now go study before I prescribe you peace and silence.
He once told me he keeps our texts as "legal evidence of affection." I told him that's creepy. He said it's romantic. We agreed to disagree.
---
Lily still makes fun of me every chance she gets.
> "You're glowing, Vivian," she says with that annoying smirk. "I give it two months before you're writing his last name in your notebook."
"Please. I'm not that desperate."
"Mmhmm. Then why are you smiling at your phone like a maniac?"
She's impossible. But she's also the one who gave him my number, so I can't even get mad.
---
Andre visits my department sometimes — usually pretending he's "lost."
The first time, one of my classmates whispered, "Isn't that the law guy who keeps showing up here?"
I said, "No idea who you're talking about," right as he texted me:
> Look up, Doctor. I brought snacks.
He was standing right outside my lecture hall door, holding a brown paper bag and grinning like an idiot.
I should've ignored him, but the truth? My heart did that annoying flutter thing again.
---
We study together sometimes — or at least, try to.
"Explain this anatomy term again," he said once, pointing at my book.
"That's the humerus."
"And it's funny?"
"No, Andre, it's your arm bone."
"Then why is it called humerus?"
"Because whoever named it had a bad sense of humor. Like you."
He laughed so hard he fell off his chair.
I swear, he's a walking chaos wrapped in charm.
---
We've been together three months now, and sometimes, I catch him looking at me like I'm something he never thought he'd have.
When I asked him why he stares so much, he said quietly,
> "Because I can't believe you said yes."
I pretended to scoff, said, "You should be grateful. I'm expensive to maintain."
He grinned. "Then I'll start saving now."
It's… too easy to love him. Too easy to fall deeper every day. And even though the shadows of my past still whisper in the quiet hours of the night, Andre's warmth drowns them out — slowly, gently, without even realizing it.
I think I'm starting to remember what peace feels like.