A Long Night

I had a lot to work on. Even though I had a clear idea of what my research would entail, detailing a research proposal was a tough task to complete in a night, and it took me all night. As soon as I returned home, I showered, changed into my cotton shirt and plain pink shorts, tied my hair up in a messy high bun, and got to work.

In my room, I have a writing table where I spend hours working on my projects. I sat there, typing away to create a decent research proposal. When my back started to ache, I moved to my bed and continued working from there. I wrote and rewrote countless times, determined not to present Dr. Lawson with a sloppy proposal. He is a perfectionist, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. This was my last chance, and I was giving it my all.

Throughout the night, I didn't eat. The house helper came to my room asking if I would be eating soon, but I told her no and asked her to go home. I was capable of heating my own food if needed. While the house helper checked on me, Atlas did not, and I didn’t expect anything from Eva. Food and water slipped my mind as I worked tirelessly.

By midnight, I was already extremely tired and sleepy, but I still wasn't satisfied with my work. Realizing I needed coffee to refuel, I decided to take a short break. I went downstairs to make myself a cup of coffee, maybe even two. As I was proofreading my draft, I took my laptop with me, intending to read it while I made the coffee.

As the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, I felt a renewed sense of determination. I knew this proposal had to be perfect. Placing my laptop on the counter, I sat on a stool for a change of scenery. With the freshly made coffee in hand, I resumed working on my proposal. I was barely halfway through my coffee when I heard footsteps approaching. Moments later, Atlas walked into the kitchen.

I looked up, surprised to see him still in the same clothes he had worn at dinner. He raised an eyebrow, "You’re still working on your proposal?" His voice held a slight hint of shock.

I exhaled tiredly, placing my hand on the nape of my neck and squeezing my stiff muscles. Rolling my neck to ease the tension, I muttered, "Urgh, yes. I really need to nail this proposal. This is my first and last chance to secure Dr. Lawson as my supervisor."

Fatigue was evident in my voice. Atlas raised his eyebrows and leaned on the opposite side of the counter, resting his forearms on the surface. "Don’t you have options other than this professor?" he asked.

Under the dim kitchen light, I couldn't help but notice him. His thick, luscious eyelashes, which I'd always envied, cast shadows on his face that made him look even more mesmerizing. He appeared tired as well, but even amidst his fatigue, he still looked strikingly handsome.

I realized he had asked me something, and I had been lost in thought, staring at him while he waited for my response. Clearing my throat, I finally replied, “Umm, I do have other options, but he is the best in this field – he has the most experience. I really want him,” I explained.

He barely chuckled and nodded in understanding. Taking a sip of my coffee, I returned my focus to the screen. Without looking at him, I added, “There's already a lot of competition to secure him as a supervisor, and he's agreed to only assist one student per semester. I really need him,” I stressed.

"Wow," he muttered. "It seems like many of your peers are interested in the same topic as you."

I rolled my eyes and turned to him, a bitter tone creeping into my voice. "No, they're not," I muttered. Scrunching my nose, I continued, "They don’t care about their research. They just want Dr. Lawson."

He looked amused, a hint of curiosity lighting up his eyes. "Why is that?" he asked.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his question. "Because he’s so incredibly handsome," I admitted with a grin. "He’s practically known as the campus hottie," I added, trying to lighten the mood with a bit of humor.

But something shifted in his expression. His amusement faded, replaced by a flicker of something else. "Ah, I see. But, fluttering around your teacher is a bit..." He paused, searching for the right word.

I knew exactly what word he was tiptoeing around, so I decided to finish his sentence for him. "Forbidden?" I suggested, smirking slightly.

He held my gaze for a few seconds, his jaw tensing slightly. "Yes, forbidden," he replied, his voice firm.

I chuckled, waving his concern away dismissively. "It’s fine. He’s not that old, you know. He might even be around your age," I informed him, hoping to ease the tension that had crept into the conversation.

But he didn’t react to my attempt at lightening the mood. "And anyway, we’re university students, not high schoolers—seeing your young university professor isn’t as forbidden as it sounds," I added, though even as the words left my mouth, I realized I was veering into dangerous territory. This wasn’t a conversation I should be having with him, especially not in my current state of exhaustion.

"Is that why you're after him too?" he asked somberly, his tone devoid of any hint of amusement or playfulness.

I chuckled nervously, feeling a twinge of discomfort at his serious tone. "No, not at all," I replied, shaking my head. "I'm after his credibility. I need some valuable insights for my research, and he's the only one I know who could help me."

"Hmm," he hummed, his voice tinged with concern. He fell silent for a few seconds, lost in his thoughts, but quickly snapped out of it. "Good. You're there to study, Harper. You're a good kid. Don’t waste your prime age chasing after the wrong guys," he advised, his words hitting me like a sudden gust of wind. I felt a pang in my chest as I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his eyes. His words resonated with me deeply. I've already wasted so much of my life pining after someone who would never reciprocate my feelings – I've already fallen for the wrong guy. But how could I explain that to him? So, instead, I remained silent.

After a few tense seconds, he cleared his throat and stepped away from the counter. "Did you eat at all tonight?" he asked, changing the subject.

I heaved a sigh, feeling a mixture of relief and gratitude for the change in topic. "No, I didn’t get the time," I replied, my voice soft with exhaustion.

He frowned, his brows knitting together in concern. "That’s not right," he muttered, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment. "I asked Valerie to make sure you eat dinner," he said, his words catching me off guard. Here, I had assumed he didn’t care, but in reality, he was the one who had sent Valerie to check up on me. My heart skipped a beat as I watched the genuine concern evident on his face. I hadn't seen him like this in a while. Usually, he was always preoccupied with his own work and thoughts. There were times when it felt as though I was a burden to him, my presence an inconvenience – something I had come to accept. But right now, I was seeing him in a different light. This version of him reminded me of Atlas when I was a kid. I remembered how caring he used to be.

"Oh, umm – yes, she did come to ask, but I wasn’t hungry then," I replied softly, feeling a mix of surprise and gratitude for his unexpected concern.

“I know it’s late, but you shouldn’t stay hungry,” he insisted gently, his concern evident in his voice.

“Oh, umm – I will in a bit,” I replied, feeling a pang of hunger as my stomach grumbled.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s already two in the morning. How long are you going to wait?” he asked, his tone carrying a mixture of amusement and worry.

Before I could respond, he sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “Let me heat up some food for you while you work,” he offered, his concern touching me deeply.

“Oh, no – no, I can do it myself. You should go and sleep,” I protested, not wanting to impose on him.

My eyes drifted to his clothes, noticing he was still dressed. “Wait, where were you exactly?” I asked, furrowing my brows in curiosity.

He exhaled softly, scratching his eyebrow. “I was in my study. I had some work to do,” he explained, his tone growing somber. His chuckle was strained as he continued, “Actually, there was a lot of work to do at the office tonight, but Eva called and asked me to return home early, and I just couldn’t say no to her,” his smile for her contrasting with the ache in my chest. The joy I had felt moments ago for his caring gesture toward me vanished, replaced by a familiar pang of heartache. I swallowed the lump in my throat as he added, “I came home, but I had some pending work, so I was just finishing it.”

I mustered a smile, though my eyes betrayed the gloss of unshed tears. Why did I keep subjecting myself to this pain? Why did I even allow myself to forget, even for a moment, that he belonged to her and not to me? His brief moment of concern for me had stirred emotions I knew I shouldn’t entertain. When would I ever learn?

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I spoke with forced politeness, my voice devoid of any genuine emotion. “I can heat my own food, Atlas. You should go back to Eva. She must be waiting for you,” I said, my words feeling hollow even to my own ears.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. “Oh no, she’s sleeping. I made sure she fell asleep before I came downstairs to my study to work,” he informed me, his smile so tender that it pierced through the facade I had erected around my heart.

“Oh, I see,” I murmured, feeling a heaviness settle in my chest. With a sigh, I closed the lid of my laptop. Pushing myself off the stool, I announced, “I should head back to my room.”

He furrowed his brow in concern. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?” he asked, unaware of how his love and care for Eva had stolen my appetite completely. How could I possibly explain that to him?

I couldn’t bring myself to be honest, so I summoned a fake smile. “I can’t eat this late. It might upset my stomach. And anyway, I’ll be turning in soon. I can’t afford to stay up all night. I have a class in the morning. I’ll have a healthy breakfast instead,” I reassured him, my words sounding hollow even to my own ears. He didn’t push further, but the confusion in his eyes was unmistakable. I bid him a good night, mustering up what little composure I had left before retreating to my room with my laptop and coffee in hand.

As I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it, feeling the weight of my emotions pressing down on me. Slowly, I slid down to the floor, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. My lower lip trembled as I struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “Why am I doing this to myself?” I whispered through silent sobs, the ache in my heart becoming unbearable.