The burden of exams was finally lifted off her shoulders as she basically danced up the stairs to her apartment with Italian take-out in her hands.

Sage had offered to pick her up, and she half-expected him to pull up at Harvard anyway, but Solace had told him she was going out for coffee with some of her friends to celebrate the end of finals. His response was, "You have friends?"

She promptly cut the phone.

The only thing she was not looking forward to was washing her hair. It had been over two weeks, and the process always took longer than needed because she was worried her braids might frizz. The drying portion was a pain in the ass since she didn't own a hooded dryer. But it was still the late evening, and she wouldn't be going to bed until much later. It didn't help that a storm was coming, and she loved the sound of thunder.

As her mind planned out her schedule for the night, she walked into the living room, placing the dinner for three on the kitchen table. Emi would be home for the night, and she was still staying hush-hush about the Amos situation. She had gone on another 'study meeting' with them but refused to spill any juicy details. And of course, the oh so lovely Sage was always here.

"Dude, where is the coconut butter scrub?" he called out from his seat on the couch. "I don't want no pathetic pomegranate mint bullshit. It makes my nose act up."

Solace ripped off her winter coat and shoes, making her way towards him. A ball of matcha-coloured green yarn was sitting in his lap as his fingers delicately moved the long needles to create something that looked like a square.

"Are you knitting?" she asked incredulously.

"Why, yes, I am," Sage said with more pretentiousness than a person should have when committing a granny hobby.

She tilted her head. "Why?"

"Why not?" he fired back with a crooked grin.

Solace watched meticulously as his fingers wove the yarn over the needles and how he slid it gently. She didn't know too much about knitting, but from her little knowledge, Sage seemed like a pro. "You're good," she complimented as she took a seat beside him.

His smile brightened. "My abuelita taught me. She thought I should learn how to focus my 'excessive energy' into something more productive," he remarked with adoration in his tone.

She couldn't help but smile at how he talked about his grandmother. "I'm surprised you didn't try to start a club in high school."

"Oh, I did. No one joined except for the Home Ed. teacher."

Solace snorted. "Because no kid our age knits."

Sage halted momentarily, looking over with narrowed eyes. "Are you making fun of me?"

"I would never do such a thing," she chuckled. Solace tucked a leg underneath her and leaned forward. "Can you show me what you're doing?"

The excitement rolling off him was unmistakable. Sage shuffled closer to her until their thighs touched and held up the patch of knit material. "You see where it's unraveling a bit?" he asked. Solace followed his line of gaze to see what he was talking about. There was a strand of yarn that wasn't pulled through a loop. "That is a dropped stitch. We don't like those, so all we have to do is..."

He slowly showed her how he fixed the so-called drop stitch, but even then, Solace couldn't quite pay attention. Not when he was so close. It made her thoughts go back to two days ago when he was standing between her legs. Her chest constricted, and she felt hot all of a sudden.

Solace abruptly stood up. She was met with Sage's curious gaze. "I brought pasta from Taste of Italy. Let's eat before it gets cold," she said quickly.

Sage nodded in agreement. "I'll grab the drinks," he offered.

That was her cue, and she sped-walked to Emi's room. Solace wasn't surprised when she found her roommate in front of her computer, typing away vigorously. Her lights streamed neon pink on her skin, and her outgrown bangs skimmed her eyes.

"Dinner is here," Solace said, leaning her hip against the desk.

"Almost done," muttered Emi. "Amos showed me a flaw in my code. Just got to fix it."

"Amos, huh?" she teased. "You've been spending a lot of time with them."

"We've talked about this."

Solace sighed, putting her hands up in mock surrender. "I know, I know. It's just you've never had a proper partner in so long."

Emi spared her a glance that consisted of a raised brow. "Neither have you," she pointed out.

Her lips straightened into a thin line. "You got me there."

A laugh left Emi's lips as she happily typed away numbers and letters into her code. It looked like gibberish to Solace. "Shall we talk about the boy outside?" she poked.

"There's nothing to talk about." But Solace said those words far too quickly.

"There is so much to talk about with you and Sage."

Emi was wrong. Completely, unequivocally wrong. There was no me and Sage. He was nothing but her rival, who she was so thoughtfully helping from the goodness of her heart. Alright, maybe she would upgrade his title from annoying arch-nemesis to slightly less annoying roommate, but that was the farthest she was willing to go. If she was feeling particularly kind, she might even call him her friend.

"Ems, I think our cheesy and carbs-loaded pasta is much more important," she said, instead.

She didn't pry, and Solace was thankful for that. Emi carefully saved her work and shut her computer, then followed her out to the living room to see three plates with perfectly portioned amount of pasta and drinks of their choice: water for Solace, root beer for Emi, and pop for Sage. A movie played on the television, and she distinctly remembered watching it as a child. If she recalled correctly, it was about a boy and his uncle saving Christmas after one of them knocked Santa unconscious. Solace embarrassingly had to admit she had cried when the jolly man in red was tied up and held hostage.

"It smells so good," sighed Emi in a way that almost sounded euphoric. She threw herself on the couch and hungrily seized her plate.

Solace hummed in agreement, taking her seat on the ground by the coffee table. To her surprise, Sage followed suit and plopped himself on the carpet across from her. His long legs folded underneath the table, his knees touching hers. She did not inch away, and he made no notice move to the scandalous contact of their legs.

There was nothing but mouths chewing the delectable goodness of the sea-shell shaped pasta. Solace could never pronounce conchiglie correctly no matter the number of times she plugged it into Google translate. She would surely offend an Italian with her butchered phonate.

"I forgot to ask," Emi started after she swallowed an ungodly amount of pasta that was undoubtedly a choking hazard, "how were your finals?"

She didn't have the chance to reply before Sage butted in. He had a knack for shoving himself into conversations that did not include him.

"You're talking to the Solace Esther Laurent," he remarked dramatically. Sage said her name with such importance and gravity. She almost regret giving him her middle name. "She crushed them."

Emi arched a brow, her cheek puffing up from her pocketing her food. "Did you crush them?"

Solace was never the one to downplay her success. She would not dare shy away from compliments and awards. She knew she was great. It was a necessity that others knew as well. So, she jutted her chin and smiled haughtily. "I did indeed crush them."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," said Sage with such softness, it was as if he had wrapped a blanket around her.

The intensity in his eyes was too much for her, so she stuck with a fleeting look his way and then directed her gaze back to her dinner. Her fork scraped the bottom of the plate as she stabbed the pasta onto her fork. "I finished the three hours exam within ninety minutes," she boasted with the attempt to hinder the mysterious glint in his eyes.

"Only ninety minutes? Seems like you're not as bright as you used to be, SoSo," he retorted amusedly.

"Here we go again," murmured Emi but the way she shuffled in her seat and leaned forward, it was almost as if she was preparing herself for an engrossing display of events.

She snapped her head up immediately. "I'd like to see you try writing an essay on a global crisis and what merits America's intervention with a concrete thesis and three persuasive body paragraphs," Solace fired back in a way that suggested Sage could never complete such a feat.

"Seems easy enough."

Her frustration flared, and his nonchalance was simply gasoline to the fire. He refused to take things seriously. Even in school. It came so easily to him. "I will grab a pen and paper right now, and time you. Then we'll see."

Sage didn't even reply. He simply smirked over his glass cup and took a sip. How did he make a simple action so aggravating? She despised the glint in his eyes. She hated what it did to her insides.

"Alright, I think that is enough for tonight," interrupted Emi loudly. "Let's sit here in silence and watch the lovely movie."

Solace frowned. "But –"

"No buts. Watch the movie," she ordered with a knowing look.

"Yeah, SoSo. Watch the movie," repeated Sage.

"Can you come closer?"

His eyes widened just enough for her to notice. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"So, I can stab my fork into your eye."

"No, thank you. I rather enjoy having two eyes."

***

Author's Note:

Hello hello!

Until next time - m.k.t