A London Misunderstanding

The soft London rain, a familiar veil over the city, had begun to fall as Sachi and Christian stepped out of the bustling university gates. Laughter still echoed from their friends, a cheerful cacophony that seemed to chase them down the cobbled street. Christian’s arm was a comforting weight around Sachi’s shoulders, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her arm through the fabric of her cardigan. They were in that sweet, hazy period where final exams felt like distant thunder, and the future, though looming, glowed with the promise of shared dreams.

“Honestly, Christian,” Sachi giggled, tilting her head back to meet his eyes, “Professor Davies’ lecture on Renaissance art was *so* dry. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes at one point, and it was mostly just… art history textbooks.”

Christian chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated against her. “You say that, but you were sketching furiously in your notebook. I saw. What masterpiece were you conjuring?”