Frida's room smelled of lavender, the faint breeze carrying the soft floral scent through the open window.
The golden hues of sunset painted her pale walls, creating an atmosphere so serene it felt almost like a dream.
They sat cross-legged on the plush rug in their rolling chairs, their physics textbooks sprawled open in front of them on the table.
Frida, animated and oblivious, was busy explaining a concept to Laz with the kind of energy he secretly adored.
She was so expressive, her brows furrowing and lips pursing as she scribbled notes on her pad.
He wasn't even paying attention to her words anymore, he just watched the way her mouth moved, the sparkle in her brown eyes, and how the corners of her lips quirked up when she thought she'd solved something.
"I think I got it this time!" she exclaimed, beaming at him.
