Please, Don't Let Go

...how can you say that?

SECOND YEAR

"I still think," Darius popped another chocolate into his mouth, "that he still could have put more similarities in Scorch Trials. The only thing he got right was their names."

"At least the story was great, right?" I said. "It must take a lot of thought to immerse someone completely into a story."

"You're a good writer now so how hard can it be?" he said dismissively.

"Thanks, but I'd rather be a great writer. The arts aren't as easy as I hoped."

"Maybe you shouldn't have taken an arts degree. It's not worth as much as a science degree."

'....what?'

I slowly looked up from my book and already found him already looking at me.

He raised his eyebrows at me. "What?"

'That's what I'm supposed to be asking you.'

"Arts and science degrees are on the same level," I told him.

"Really? Aren't the science degrees way more important?"

"That doesn't mean art degrees are worth any less," I hissed. 'Must. Keep. Calm.'

"But we can't live without the sciences. Unlike arts." He shifted in his seat. "Sorry, I didn't mean for you to be offended. Although I do think you could do better if you had pursued sciences."

There was a long silence between us. But it was tense instead of comfortable.

"...how can you say that?" I finally whispered. It was summer but the air in the room turned cold.

"Sorry, what did you say?" he asked, leaning towards me.

"How can you say that?" I repeated a little louder, "That art degrees aren't worth much? That I could do better if I pursued science?"

He tilted his head, asking for an elaboration.

"You just indirectly told me that my degree isn't worth much. The same degree that I'm spending thousands to pursue."

"Science degrees are harder. And, face it, art students don't work as hard as science students. We have to get up for 9 a.m. lectures and spend a way longer time studying. For medical needs, new designs and discoveries and research. We have to push ourselves so hard just so that you guys can have an easier life in the future." I can hear it in his voice that he's getting annoyed.

"It's not our fault your studies are structured or that you have to get up way earlier than any of us."

"Listen, that's—"

"No," I cut him off, "you listen."

He actually stopped, waiting for me to continue.

"Arts is not easy. Translating and summarising centuries-old literature, learning philosophy, and rethinking the pros and cons of historical events? That's not easy. Maybe it'll never be as hard as the STEM courses but that doesn't mean we don't have our own challenges. It's not easy, especially with our 15000-words essays or the fact we have to think of a completely original idea."

I paused to take a breath. "If you really think arts isn't worth it then I expect you to never read a book, admire artwork, or watch neither movie nor TV show, because all that is because of us."

I turned and left him.

I don't think I'd ever been so mad at him.

'How can he say that? Like he doesn't know that I've been working so hard for this degree for three years now.'

'Like writing isn't something he knows I'm passionate about.'

'Is it raining? No.' I didn't realise but I was crying.

'That's weird.'

'Why is it his opinion that matters so much to me?'

* * * * *

I hadn't seen Darius in weeks. That is, unless glimpses of him count. It's honestly impressive considering that we always appeared close to each other.

It hurt much more than I thought it would. Being apart, I mean. It's weird that I would feel that way. Especially after our fight.

I sighed, disappointed. At least I could think in peace and quiet. Libraries are great for that.

"You okay?" Emma nudged me, making me turn to her. She looked really worried. "You've been bummed out for weeks now."

"Honestly?"

She nodded.

"I'm not."

"I figured. But why?" she asked, pursing her lips.

'What am I supposed tell her?'

"I...fought with someone," I answered hesitantly.

She didn't miss a beat. "About what? Anything I can help with?"

My phone started ringing before I could reply.

"Who's that?"

"I don't know." I just barely felt fingertips brushing past my shoulders.

I took a quick look behind me and saw it. A mop of bright red hair on a head that had bursts of electricity.

He signalled to me to follow him. 

I'm embarrassed with how quickly I agreed.

"Sorry, I forgot I needed to finish up an assignment."

'Not a complete lie. There is a neglected essay sheet I was supposed to do.'

I was just walking out of the library when someone pulled me to the side.

"What the hell?" "I'm sorry." We said simultaneously.

'Wait, what?'

"I'm sorry," Darius repeated. "I followed multiple art students for the past month and you're right. It's not easy. It's not a waste. I'm sorry I made you feel as if I thought you wasted your time. You didn't."

"Ri?"

He looked up reluctantly. He's normally casual and nonchalant so the shameful look on his face threw me off.

'Either I'm weak or this guy has way-too-convincing puppy eyes.'

"Thank you, Ri."

"For what?" His face went from shameful to shocked in, like, three seconds.

"For apologising. I've gotten into the same argument with other people and none of them apologised."

"Oh, well, you're welcome? But, um, that does mean that you accept my apology. Right?"

"Of course, dummy." I smiled reassuringly.

I'd never seen him so happy before.

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Sorry that the ending is rushed. :( I don't really know how couples make up after a big fight.