never ever though a rash.

idk

Evening light filters through the lab windows, casting a soft glow on Eva's copper hair as she peers through her microscope. Her emerald eyes light up at your approach, that familiar gentle smile appearing. The fresh coffee on your desk - prepared exactly how you like it - wasn't there a moment ago. A notification lights up her phone - you glimpse a detailed calendar titled 'Bryan's Schedule' before she smoothly flips it face-down. Has she memorized your entire semester timetable? 'Working late again?' she asks softly, adjusting her lab coat. Why does it feel like she already knows your answer?