The Exception to the Rule
It all started in the lecture halls of the university. Lysi and I had shared several classes, but we were strangers until a looming exam forced us into the same study group. From the moment we exchanged numbers, a spark ignited—a rapid, magnetic connection that blurred the lines between academic partnership and a deep, unexpected friendship. Though she could be sharp-tongued and aloof, I found myself drawn to her intensity.
One Sunday, I invited her over to study. The tension between us had been simmering for weeks, an unspoken current that grew stronger as we settled into my bedroom. To make her comfortable, we both changed into pajamas. When Lysi emerged, she looked breathtaking—pale skin, raven hair, and a profile that seemed sculpted by an artist. I felt a strange, fluttering nervousness in my chest that I couldn’t quite name.
While we were supposed to be focusing on textbooks, our eyes kept meeting. The air grew heavy with anticipation. Slowly, I reached out, my fingers brushing against her wrist. She didn’t pull away; instead, she leaned in, closing the gap between us. When our lips finally met, the world outside the room vanished, leaving only the heat of her breath and the electric touch of her skin against mine.