#RSUFreedomWall22209

Isn't posting something here somewhat of a long shot? I still want to try, so let me get all of this down in writing.

We were essentially from different worlds. I'm from COB (College of Business) and you're from COS (College of Science) who somehow ended up in a core curriculum class of HUMNLIT meant for COB students' schedules.

I didn't notice you immediately. You sat in the back, same row as I did, but two empty seats apart, both of us away from people, most of our classmates who were a little more familiar with each other. You didn't look out of place with the other business students in your crisp royal blue dress shirt, formal slacks and leather loafers, that's why I thought you were from the same college. I would even argue your sense of dress fared a lot better than half of my classmates who think those gaudy "hypebeast" sneakers are considered business casual, but I digress. I noticed you because of your good sense of style, but my gaze lingered because of your hair—I just thought it was a pretty color.

I also thought it was cute, but when they were passing the attendance sheets, everyone else had filled it all out except you and me. I saw your full name, your chosen course (BS-Alchemical Engineering) and paid it little mind back then.

The class was boring to you; it was clear. STEM students hardly paid much attention to the humanities after all, and we were discussing classic literature. I even noticed you really didn't seem to be interested in the premise of Unexpected Grace. Don't think I didn't see you roll your eyes! It's still funny even if I had expected you wouldn't like romance, but you seemed interested in A Promise Under Siege. Was it because the latter book was a romance and a tragedy? You even flipped through your copy a few times in class instead of coding on your laptop under the guise of taking notes.

Yes, I noticed these details, even wondered why an Alchemical Engineering student would be coding, I just chalked it up to you being some sort of genius. I had an interest in you long before I could even acknowledge it for myself. I think that's why I struck a conversation with you sometime halfway the semester, or tried to. Do you remember how I asked if you were able to get those notes one of our classmates posted in the Mugbook group?

You frowned, said you didn't, and then muttered something about not needing it and having your own notes because you did read the book. The way your eyebrows scrunched up ever so slightly. But you took those notes with a curt thank you and that was it. I didn't think I would get any further.

I didn't think I'd have the opportunity to talk more than that until we all had to group up for a research project. We got roped into a group missing a pair, and then they just dumped all the work on us somehow, which led to a very lengthy after class library trip.

Oh, that library trip. I won't be able to forget it. Our final, extensive report on A Promise Under Siege—your favorite—and it was snowing hard that day. We were so absorbed in our work discussing that book, and how you admitted you were interested in it primarily because it apparently is quite historically accurate in the depiction of the technology at the time, and even has quite detailed description of certain lost, ancient technologies.

We talked so much between discussing the book, first about the technical aspects you enjoyed, which I found interesting as you were quite passionate about it. But I did tease you about the story itself, if you liked that aspect of it, and it was cute how you admitted—so shyly—that you found the main character's, Aldhard's, plight compelling. You didn't elaborate too much, something about making difficult choices.

It made me think about Aldhard's his drive and dedication to reverse-engineer the ancient machines in order to have a fighting chance to win the war while under the immense internal conflict of dedicating his time to research a cure for his ailing lover Warin. I wonder what you would do if you were in Aldhard's shoes, but I never got to ask, since you quickly steered back the conversation to the technology detailed in the book, and we needed those for our report too.

We so absorbed that we didn't notice that a snowstorm began to fall really hard. We were snowed in before we even realized, trapped in the library for the meantime.

We weren't the only ones, but it felt like it after the librarians distributed supplies to everyone in that enormous building and everyone filtered out to their own corner of the library to continue their work, or for privacy, or both.

We got ourselves a cozy corner at the classic section, even though we pretty much completed the entire group report. You were seated on the floor, taking the cushions from the seats and was leaning against the wall with your laptop out, but then the power went out! Luckily we were provided flashlights, blankets and some food and water to last us a entire day, but you looked really annoyed that your laptop's battery wouldn't last any longer without a direct power source and busied yourself in preparing rations for us both instead.

We chatted a little more throughout the night, it never felt awkward or that we'd run out of things to say somehow, something all just flowed. We talked, and talked throughout the night, eventually settling on the carpeted floor with our blankets side by side. It got so, so cold, and really spooky. I said as much, just as a little joke, and maybe to come on to you, but even if you didn't seem to catch on what I was up to, you assured me there's nothing around with your indifferent tone, but you patted my hand, and even let me scoot closer when I said I was cold, and scared. I reached forward again, clutching at your blanket, and you took my hand and we fell asleep like that, eventually cuddling close as the cold seeped in and the blankets were barely enough to chase it away.

I woke up in the middle of the night and found myself side by side with you, so close that your hair tangled with mine. You were sound asleep. Who knows how we both ended up like that at all, but it didn't feel wrong or weird and it felt comfortable even sleeping on the floor like that.

And morning came. You woke up early but let me sleep, and even placed your extra blanket on top of me. The snow had stopped falling and you had news that the librarian announced that we will soon be rescued. You were very eager to go back to your dorms and I live outside of campus, so we parted ways and whatever it was that barely began in the library fizzled out.

We never did manage to find more opportunities to spend time more. We completed the group project and that was it. The class concluded and the semester ended and we would no longer be in the same class and I never even managed to get your number. I always thought it was a little sad, but I didn't know what else could I have done differently, I guess I was always waiting for another opportunity, but it never arose. I guess you could say I also related to Aldhard who regretted his practicality as he ultimately dedicated himself to his work on the machines, rather than trying to save Warin, or even just spending what time they had together.

So, here I am writing this all down telling this story to the world, because I don't want it to end like this if it doesn't have to. I should have done this sooner, when we still met in the same class every week for months, but I hope you want the same thing too. It's very silly to write this all down, I'm not even sure if this will reach you, but I have to ask, because we needn't be as tragic as a couple from a classic Mondstadtian novel.

Could we have another shot at getting to know each other better? If you feel the same, meet me at the Annual Campus Fair, at the place you told me when we were at the library was one of your favorite spots to catch up on your studies after school.

I hope we get to watch the fireworks from there together.