I never imagined I'd be standing in the campus courtyard, umbrella dripping, heart racing, listening to words I wasn't sure I deserved.
Andre was there, soaked from the drizzle, his signature messy hair plastered to his forehead, carrying a half-empty bag of popcorn from our library snack stash. He grinned when he saw me, like he'd been waiting all day just for this moment.
"You left your flashcards behind," he said casually, holding them out. "Again."
I raised an eyebrow. "And you came running for them? What am I supposed to call this — heroics or stalking?"
He tilted his head, mock-offended. "Only my puppy deserves full-service retrieval."
I rolled my eyes, but my chest betrayed me. Puppy. He'd earned that nickname in the first month we'd met. It started as a joke about his clumsy, overly-adorable ways with me, and now… it stuck. And somehow, it made my heart twist every time.
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We walked slowly to the bench near the fountain — our unofficial "safe spot" — and sat in silence, letting the rain's soft rhythm fill the gaps between us. His fingers brushed mine, tentative, asking for permission I didn't know I wanted to give.
"You've been… different lately," he said finally, voice quiet but steady. "Quieter, but not like before. Softer."
I smirked, trying to hide the flutter in my stomach. "Softer, huh? You making lawyer jokes now, Puppy?"
He laughed, low and nervous, and leaned slightly closer. "Only when I'm about to say something important."
I tensed. Something in his tone told me this wasn't a joke.
"I… Vivian," he began, eyes searching mine like he was reading every unread thought I had, "I love you."
I froze, heart skipping. "…You what?" My voice was barely audible over the patter of rain.
"I love you," he repeated, slower, clearer this time. "Not the flirty, law-school kind of love. Not a casual crush. I mean it — all of it. Every mess, every laugh, every sarcastic remark you throw at me. I love it all. I love you."
My chest tightened, my hands gripping my notebook as if holding it could somehow steady me. I wanted to say something witty, to mask the way my heart felt like it was going to explode, but the words wouldn't come.
"You… actually mean that?" I whispered, looking at him, at the small smudge of mud on his shoe, the way his wet hair clung to his forehead, the way his eyes were entirely fixed on me.
He nodded. "Every single word. I've chased you for six months, Vivian. I wanted to make sure when I said it… it was real. Not just butterflies. Not just a crush. Real."
I felt a tear threaten to fall, but I quickly blinked it away. I wasn't used to letting anyone see me vulnerable. But somehow, with him, I wanted to.
I leaned closer, barely brushing his shoulder. "You're… too sweet for your own good, Puppy."
His grin softened into something tender, eyes crinkling in the rain. "I'll take that as a yes," he whispered.
I didn't say "I love you" back that day. Not yet. But I didn't step away. I let the words settle in my chest, letting them anchor me in a way I hadn't felt in years.
And for the first time, I thought… maybe, just maybe, love didn't have to hurt. Maybe it could be safe. Maybe it could be him.