The War of the 1%
[Jay's POV]
Monday morning didn't arrive with a soft kiss or a sunbeam. It arrived with the sharp, rhythmic beep-beep-beep of a synchronized alarm.
The "Lazy Sunday" was officially a memory. Today was Day 8. The exams were exactly six days away, and in the world of elite engineering, six days was either an eternity or a blink.
"Status report," Keifer grumbled, his voice thick with morning gravel as he sat up and immediately reached for his tablet.
"Fluid Dynamics is at 85% retention," I replied, already pinning my hair up into a messy, efficient bun. "Thermodynamics is solid, but we need to run the simulations for the final module again. And the Group Chat is currently in a state of total structural collapse."
I glanced at my phone.
Rory: I've forgotten how to do long division. Is this the end?
Erdix: I've survived on nothing but energy drinks and spite for 48 hours. I can see through time now.
Freya: Jay, send help. Or more notes. Preferably both.
"Tell them to breathe," Keifer said, sliding out of bed and heading for the espresso machine we'd moved into the suite. "And tell them the 'Watson-Jean' study guide is being uploaded in an hour."
He paused, looking at me over his shoulder. The playful fiancé from yesterday was gone, replaced by the focused, lethal academic. "Are you ready, Jay? This week is going to be a grind."
I looked at the sapphire on my finger, then at the man who had vowed to be my constant. "I was born for the grind, Keifer. But this time, I'm not doing it to survive. I'm doing it to win."
The Hardcore Protocol
By 10:00 AM, the library had been cordoned off. Mamma Serina knew better than to enter without a "Peace Offering" of snacks. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of ozone from the laptops, old paper, and the bitter, glorious aroma of black coffee.
We didn't sit back-to-back anymore. We sat across from each other, our laptops forming a digital barricade.
"Problem 42," I snapped, sliding a legal pad across the table. "The stress-strain curve for the titanium alloy in the bridge simulation. The calculus isn't balancing."
Keifer grabbed the pad, his eyes scanning the equations at a speed that would have made a supercomputer sweat. "You missed the thermal expansion coefficient, Jay. Look at the temperature variables for the Manila climate."
"Dammit," I hissed, grabbing the pen back. "I was thinking in a vacuum."
"Never think in a vacuum," he murmured, leaning over the table. "The real world is messy. That's why we're a team. I handle the mess, you handle the precision."
For hours, the only sounds were the clicking of keys and the scratching of pens. It was a dance—a brutal, intellectual ballet. When I faltered, he pushed me. When he got stuck in a logical loop, I pulled him out.
The Midnight Breach
By 11:30 PM, the lights in the library were dimmed, leaving only our desk lamps to cast long, dramatic shadows. My eyes were burning, and the words on the screen were starting to swim.
"Break," Keifer commanded, shutting my laptop lid before I could protest.
"Keifer, I still have ten pages of—"
"Jay. Law of Diminishing Returns," he said, standing up and walking around the table. He pulled my chair back and reached down, lifting me up as if I weighed nothing. "Your brain is at 98% capacity. If you push that last 2%, you'll crash before the exam. Come here."
He sat in the large leather armchair and pulled me into his lap. I didn't fight him. I was too tired to be "The Genius." I tucked my head into the crook of his neck, the tension finally beginning to drain out of my shoulders.
"We're going to top the class, aren't we?" I whispered.
"We're going to obliterate the class," Keifer corrected, his fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns on my arm. "The University won't know what hit them. A Watson and a Mariano... the world's first 'Super-Couple' of Engineering."
I smiled into his skin. "I like that title."
"I like you," he whispered, turning his head to press a lingering kiss to my temple. "Now, stay quiet for five minutes. No math. No physics. Just us."
The silence of the library was heavy, but it wasn't the lonely silence I'd grown up with. It was a shared silence. In the dark, surrounded by books and the promise of a future, I realized that the "Hardcore Study Mode" wasn't a chore. It was our first project together.
And as Keifer's heartbeat thudded steadily against my ear, I knew we were already passing the most important test.