university | lrh

Epilogue

She was trying really, really hard to focus; she was.

It wasn't like the other times, where she'd pretend like she was attempting to get her work done, only to be daydreaming in her head about literally anything else than her task at hand. No, she was seriously trying to work, but it was hard to do when all she could focus on was the rhythmic, slightly frantic tapping of an impatient foot against the hard wood of her floor.

Glaring at the man's shoe, which was only about a foot away from the spot on the ground where her laptop was, she huffed in annoyance. "Can you not tap your foot in my work space?"

His actions didn't cease, but he did pause his burning stare at the door to look at the girl, flatly. "Can you not work in my foot-tapping space?"

She frowned, glancing around her makeshift 'work space', comprised of mounds of messy blankets and pillows right in the middle of her living room floor. It was unconventional, sure, with her laptop and notebooks amongst the fluff and her body laid on her stomach in front of it, but that's exactly how she liked it. She'd been doing this since her freshman year, starting way back in her first dorm room, carrying through with the tradition to her first house.

"Don't you have a Greek system to run?" She narrowed her eyes at him, referring to his newly acquired job title that she didn't quite understand.

He scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning further into the couch he sat on—like a normal person should be doing in the living room, he thought—and looked down at her. "Don't you have a book to write?" He retaliated, referring to her subject of study, of which he also didn't quite understand.

She groaned, because yes—she practically did have a book to write. Not quite a novel, but a narrative, one that needed to be completed if she ever wanted to graduate. And if the man impatiently bobbing his leg up and down had anything to do with it, she was never going to stay focused.

"Can't you see I'm trying?" She huffed.

He glanced at the area around her, unimpressed. "Trying to do what? Build a fucking fort?"

"I like to be comfortable. Sue me."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Lisi."

Elise sighed, sort of giving up on writing for the time being and choosing instead to prop her head up in her palms. She studied him, the anxious tapping of his foot and the way his eyes kept darting to the door. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He grumbled.

"You seem stressed."

He gave her a flat look, voice monotone. "Really? What gave it away?"

She kept her laugh to herself, only shaking her head a bit. "I'm just saying. Maybe I could help."

"I don't need help."

"Then what are you doing here?"

He rolled his eyes. "To talk to Luke."

"Right," Elise nodded. "To ask him for help?"

"Yeah," He said without thinking, before retracting it quickly. "Wait, no—

"A-ha!" Elise beamed. "I knew it."

"Shut up."

"You shut up." She was grinning now, she kind of loved annoying him. In an odd, unforeseen turn of events over the years, he'd kind of turned into a brotherly figure. And she, undoubtedly, the little sister he never had—nor never truly asked for. It wasn't like her relationship with the other boys—less friendship-like and more love-hate.