“Nope! I’m fine, totally fine.”

“We were supposed to start 3 minutes ago.” You crossed your arms, still talking to the floor.

“That means I have two more minutes before this starts getting weird--”

“It’s already weird.” You whisper matter-of-factly before crouching down to join him on the floor. The other pre-meds sitting at Marta’s table let out an audible sigh in exasperation, the freshman in question choosing to channel her annoyance into a more silent and harder-to-notice eye roll. The two lab instructors obviously have had a thing for each other since the beginning of the quarter; Marta’s had to sit through nearly two and a half months of the two of you getting under each others’ skin in what had to be the most flirtatious way possible within a professional setting. At first, she thought you two were already together--given the rather marital nature of your arguments during office hours--but after the last few weeks, Marta became certain neither were you two together nor close to admitting there’s something other than loathing brewing between the two of you.

At least, not yet; bets have been floating around the class on how long it would take either you or Mark to notice the obvious crush the two of you have on each other and how long it would take for one of you to do something about it. So far the leading guess was around 3 more weeks of pining before something gave. Which, at this point, was far outside the time left before the quarter ended--meaning Marta had to likely continue to sit through admittedly cute but still infuriating mishaps like the one unfolding before her now. She watches on as Mark sets up reagents with you organizing them in his wake and telling the class what each one was.

Mark finally reemerges from below the desk and hastily writes the name of the lab the class is working on on the board behind you while you explain the lab, lifting his palm off the board to avoid erasing what he's already written. “I strongly suggest that you finish making your agar gels by the end of lab today to give yourselves enough time to complete the rest of the packet next week. As always, please make sure you address every question in each problem statement.” You say, finally drawing Marta's attention away from Mark's entirely capitalized handwriting and back to the demo the two of you had started.

  The rest of the students are halfway through the first part of their lab while Marta completes the rest of the written portion of the lab, having finished the necessary prep before the rest of her table. She lets her focus wander for a second, trying to think of the best way to describe the process of microwaving water and what was essentially inedible jello mix, when her gaze falls upon you helping one of her classmates with their gel preparation. Mark, evidently not having any other students to help, follows you around a shadow. After resolving an issue the student was having with the magnetic stirrer hot plate, you stand from your position leaning over the desk and accidentally bump another student’s flask with your arm, sending it into a precessing spin before Mark catches it, uttering a “Woah!” that catches your attention.

You pivot slightly to see if any damage was done before apologizing to the student And turning to Mark. “Thanks, good catch,” you say through a relieved sigh and a chuckle, patting Mark gently on the back of his arm. The man in question smiles and nods with a hum, seemingly lifting his hand to pat you on the back in return before becoming visibly flustered and stuffing his hand into the back pocket of his chinos, a vibrant flush dawning his barely freckled cheeks. Marta rolls her eyes while you fail to notice this, just like you have since the start of the semester--oblivious to his obvious affection for you.

☆☆☆

Exhaustion tugs heavily at Mindy’s eyes, the calm quiet the grad office had settled into not helping while Mark looks over her completed homework assignment that's due in about two days. ‘Take o-chem,’ they said, ‘it'll be fun!’ they said. This is the worst; I'm a Mech E, I shouldn’t have to subject myself to this… she thinks, trying not to lament that she can't yet legally drown her scholastic sorrows in White Claw. You're sat next to him, working on what looks like grading from last week's homework assignment, somehow having most of the sizable pile done in what felt like maybe 4 days.

“This looks good so far, Mindy. Though, you want to be careful with this question here,” Mark turns the paper around to show her the problem in question; one on the indomitable Krebs Cycle. As he is explaining where she went wrong in this particular exercise, a stray few locks of hair fall into Mark's face, partially obscuring his eyes from view.

Mark tries and fails to toss his hair out of the way of his line of sight, but succeeds in catching your attention. There was a rumor floating around the class that the two of you were an item, but given how much the two of you argue, Mindy found that hard to believe. Well, she used to at least. The last couple of weeks, the way you've been looking at Mark suggested the two of you somehow achieved a level of familiarity that Mindy didn't think you two were capable of. Looking up, you tsk softly before reaching over and tucking the rogue hair behind his ear. “You need a haircut,” you say plainly before returning to grading. You rest your chin on the hand you used to brush back Mark's hair and regard the paper in front of you with a soft pout, resuming the grading that you’re in the middle of.

Mindy looks back at Mark only to see him sort of just… frozen in place, looking off into the distance through the table with a dumbfounded twist to his otherwise blank features. “...You okay?” Mindy asks carefully, not sure what to do with the sudden stillness.

Mark looks up at Mindy before smiling and saying, “peachy--” and continuing to walk her through the rest of the problem, with Mindy gawking incredulously at Mark, her face twisted into a slight sneer.

  “Thanks, I think that's it for now. Can I email a scan of this to you by tomorrow morning for you to look over before I turn it in?” Mindy asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder and adjusting her backpack on her other shoulder. She was thankful to be done, her stomach rumbling along with her intense craving for the leftover bibimbap she packed from her last visit to her mom's the weekend prior.

“For sure,” Mark responds with a smile. “Good luck; I know it's hard stuff, but you're doing great, don't get discouraged.” Mindy laughs out an ‘I'll try’ before walking out of the combined cubicle space you and Mark have taken up. A soft scoff causes Mindy to turn around and look back at the two of you. Mark is halfway sitting on the table you're sitting at, now looking up and away from your pile of grading at the man in front of you. Mindy can almost physically see the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at Mark, visibly trying to stifle your laughter at whatever Mark is saying. Mindy rolls her eyes before she turns back around, shaking her head at how cute the two of you are likely unknowingly being.

☆☆☆

Despite the faint squeaking of the dry-erase marker against the whiteboard, Sid’s eyes continue to droop, threatening to whisk them away into a deeper slumber than they should be in considering they’re in the middle of an organic chemistry lab. I really need to stop pulling all-nighters… they think, succumbing to a small hypnagogic jerk and almost falling off their stool. The jolt gives them a new wave of lucidity that allows them to focus their eyes on you reading what must be class notes, arm frozen in mid-stroke as you read the packet you’re clutching in your left hand.

“That’s too many s’s,” Mark says, interrupting your train of thought. He’s leaning nonchalantly against the fireproof tabletop of the desk the two of you are behind looking directly at the ‘asssignments’ underlined above the checklist you’re writing on the board. You let out a huff and rewrite the word before continuing to write out the due date for the last lab.

The dirty-blonde man stands up from his previous position halfway sitting on the fireproof table top of the desk at the front of the lab room and leans across the exceedingly short distance between the two of you, presumably to read over your shoulder. “You okay? You're more quiet than usual,” he whispers under his breath, trying and failing to conceal his concern for you.

“I'm peachy…” you pause and look to the side at Mark before inhaling surprisingly deeply and turning back to the board. “Just tired.”

Mark ‘tsk’s before turning His attention back to the whiteboard. “You've gotta get a better sleep schedule, you look like death.”

This causes you to pause your writing and turn your torso around so you're facing Mark fully. “You and I both know you have no right lecturing me on my sleep patterns,” Mark opens his mouth to retort and is stopped by you raising a hand between the two of you, your index finger forcing his mouth shut, “especially not after last night.”

This causes everyone in the class to perk up; Sid tries their best not to participate in the bet on your and Mark's relationship status, but the intrigue is too much for them to ignore, and the distraction was a welcome one given the stress that comes with ending a quarter. Naturally, they had their money on the two of you cracking before the end of the month, and they were starting to get desperate with finals week merely a couple of weeks away. Common you morons, I could really use the extra money…

Mark frowns and talks in a muffled slur through the pin your finger has his lips in. “You don't know my sleep schedule; for all you know I could be the healthiest sleeper on the planet--”

“So the person who called me last night asking for help on the Carnot engine homework due tomorrow was actually just some rando who looks and sounds exactly like you?” You interrupt, retracting your hand to rest it on your hip and sending the classroom into a poorly concealed fit of giggles.

The two of you snap your heads towards the audible glee and suddenly become aware of the class seated in front of you. You cover your mouth trying to suppress giggles of your own when Mark utters a pained, “Come on guys, don't laugh at that, it's not funny--”

“It kind of is” Sid pipes up from their spot in the back of the room.

“It totally is not, please don't encourage them,” Mark says, forcing his response through the beginnings of a laughing fit of his own.

“Alright, alright--” you interject, waving your hands in surrender, “let's get started, folks.”

☆☆☆

Hana lets out what has to be the biggest yawn she’s ever had and tries to rub the sleep from her eyes. The episode they’ve just completed winds to a close as Colin reaches over and lazily turns off the television and slumps back into the cushions of Vanessa’s Lazyboy she thrifted what feels like forever ago. I need to call her soon, she was supposed to be back by now… Hana thinks solemnly before looking over her shoulder at you and Mark fast asleep on the futon next to her spot on a beanbag between the two pieces of furniture.

“God, they’re hopeless…” Colin whispers in exasperation as Hana takes in the sickeningly adorable display before her. You and Mark are practically wrapped around each other; you’ve leaned back and the curve of the futon’s armrest is canting your head and face into Mark’s hair as he uses your torso as a pillow, his arms wrapped around your middle. “What’s worse is that they’ll probably wake up like that and act like that never even happened. Either that or they’ll isolate themselves from each other. Whatever serves their denial more.” Colin laments.

“My money’s on them isolating themselves,” Hana points at the two of you with her thumb before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper. “Did you know their students have a running bet on how long it’ll take for either one of them to make a move? I ran into one of them in the quad and they asked me if I knew them and if they were together yet; they looked genuinely disappointed when I said they weren’t!”

“If only we could lock them in here, then they’d have no choice but to work it out,” Colin chortled silently.

“... Actually, that’s not that bad of an idea--”

“Locking them in here? Hana, that’s a terrible idea, there’s an equally as high probability that they’d rip each others’ heads off--”

“No, we can’t lock them in here, but we can leave them alone to work this out for themselves.” Colin frowns at Hana, tacitly asking her to explain herself before Hana continues. “I have work tomorrow, I can take you back home on my way over, but what if we just leave them both here in the morning?”

“Hana, that makes no sense, they’ll see through this instantly. And what if they still do nothing and remain comfortably in the emotionally constipated status quo they’ve cultivated?”

“The ball would be in their court at that point, so what happens happens. If it doesn’t work then we can try something else…”

“... Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Colin asks incredulously, voice still low so as not to wake the sleeping lovebirds.

“If you think I’m suggesting a full, multi-step intervention to get the two of them together, then yes absolutely,” Hana exclaims in hushed excitement. “This has been going on for too long, I think my brain will actually melt if I have to listen to either one of them deny their feelings any longer,” Hana grumbles to Colin who has to stifle a laugh before he nods.

“Alright, I’m in, but I still think leaving them alone here together isn’t gonna do anything.” Colin crosses his arms before kicking his feet up onto the coffee table in front of him.

“You never know,” Hana retorts almost silently, “maybe this is what they need to finally get the gears turning in their heads and stop lying to themselves about how they feel.”

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Taglist:

@oliviabelova , @anna-withnn , @chelseyyouraverageluigi , @celesoba