I slipped my laptop into my backpack, threw it over my shoulder, and left the uni building as soon as the clock hit the hour.
I didn't carry much, a few sets of clothes, my laptop, some work necessities, and lastly a few items of sentimental value, which were few and far between.
Stepping outside, the air was fresh, with that cool evening vibe creeping in. I strolled through the campus at my own pace, taking in the wide-open spaces and well-worn paths, thinking about all the students who've walked them before me.
"Yaya!!" a voice rang out, buzzing with excitement, and before I could even turn around to see who was calling out to me, a familiar presence appeared next to me, all warmth and energy.
I caught the hand that reached for my arm, effectively pinning the other girl in place. In a quick, fluid motion, I had her hand secured behind her back.
"Nivi, how many times must I tell you? No surprise attacks," I said, the hint of a smile betraying my sternness as her exaggerated pout met my gaze, "You're lucky it's me; anyone else would've knocked your teeth out."
"Ouch, ouch, ouch," Nivi hissed as she tried to untangle herself from my clutches, "Anyone else would have welcomed their best friend with a warm hug!"
Gently, I ushered her ahead of me so she could take the lead, keeping her within my line of sight. If she didn't take the hint, one of these days, my reflexes might truly get the better of me, and I would end up killing her.
Neveah, or Nivi, as I fondly called her, was a portrait of a rare beauty — a perfect blend of Asian and European heritage — petite in stature, she possessed captivating doe eyes that seemed to hold stories within their depths. Her hair, a luxurious cascade of locks, flowed down to her waist, framing her delicate features and enhancing her ethereal charm.
Our first encounter? She ambushed me on my first day in high school with the declaration that I was the spitting image of a webcomic character she adored and ended up with a broken hand in a hospital as a result.
What? Nivi's level of openness hit me like a splash of cold water in the face, and I returned it, albeit in a less-than-pleasing manner.
I've always been more popular among girls than boys. So, when Nivi decided to orbit my universe, I didn't think much of it. But lo and behold, she didn't give up on me despite my... let's call it 'lack of attention.' Maybe she had a thing for being ignored? Anyway, she grew on me like a persistent weed, and before I knew it, I had a best friend.
She ended up landing in the literature department of a university that's conveniently close to mine. Despite my proficiency in combat, I was actually pursuing a degree in mechanical engineering.
And so, our daily lunch at the university canteen became a thing. Together, we made for an odd pair ─ me, decked out in attire that whispered "prepared for the apocalypse," and Nivi in one that sang "woodland fairy".
Nivi elegantly paired a skirt with a crisp blouse, all cozily hidden under an oversized cardigan. In stark contrast, my outfit leaned heavily towards the utilitarian — cargo pants paired with combat boots and a tactical vest layered with many pockets over a water-resistant hoodie.
Onlookers often mistook my "style" as a deliberate fashion choice. Little did they know, my attire was less about making a statement and more about durability. In short, it had to withstand a lot of abuse.
Nivi suddenly turned to me with a spark of anticipation in her big doe eyes. Her waist-length hair swayed gently as she matched my stride, "Hey, Yaya," she began, her gaze locking onto mine, "have you read that webcomic I mentioned last time? 'Beauty and The Beasts'? They've finally adapted it into a comic, and it's really good! The guys are just...wow, so handsome. And the female lead? She's still so annoying! Honestly, if I were in her place, Winston would have been part of my harem in no time."
Regrettably, I had to shake my head. "I haven't managed to read it yet," I confessed, my tone filled with a touch of apology. "You know how it is with my dad. He came up with one of his unexpected trips again..."
My father had somehow thought it was a good idea to drop me and my sister in the middle of a jungle for a survival challenge over the weekend. I opted not to share this part, preferring not to shift our casual chat towards my personal problems.
'Winston? The kitty man with a scar?'
"So, what's Qing Qing done now to become your latest nemesis?" I asked, showing slight interest. Being a good listener was something I was proud of, especially considering the vast amounts of plot information Nivi had injected into my brain.
Nivi's passionate recounting of the stories she loved always drew me in. Her enthusiasm, complete with rants and praises, was, at least for me, far more engaging than slogging through a lengthy novel or comic myself.
Why immerse myself in pages for hours, maybe even days, when I could get the essence of the story from Nivi's vibrant summaries in just a few minutes?
Despite our slight differences, there was one particular aspect, where Nivi and I found a common ground — neither of us had any real interest in the dramas of being in an actual romantic relationship with real life men.
The appeal of falling in love had bypassed me for almost my whole life, whereas Nivi was convinced that no real man could ever hold a candle to the fictional beings she dubbed her "book husbands."
No