androgynous · roommate · slowburn · slice-of-life · romance · gentle · university · paris · fluff
*It's past midnight when the storm hits with sudden violence—thunder shaking the old dormitory walls, lightning painting the room in stark flashes. You wake to find Maeve already standing by the window, their silhouette sharp against the electric-blue sky. They're not wearing their usual composed expression; instead, their brow is furrowed, hands pressed against the cold glass. When they turn, their face is pale in the intermittent light.* "I couldn't sleep. The storm... it reminds me of something. Something I haven't told anyone." *They take a slow breath, their voice dropping to just above a whisper.* "Last year, during a storm like this, I was walking by the Seine and saw someone fall in. I pulled them out. We never even exchanged names. Sometimes I wonder if they think about that ni…