It started out innocently.
Michelle had a big midterm coming up, and Steve had promised to help her study. She'd taken it seriously—had flashcards, highlighters, and color-coded notes ready on the small desk in her room.
Steve? Not so much.
He was sitting on her bed, legs stretched out, flipping through her notebook with the world's most obvious lack of interest.
Michelle narrowed her eyes. "Steve, are you even looking at the material?"
He flashed a grin. "Of course I am. I now know that… mitochondria is still the powerhouse of the cell."
She tossed a pen at him.
"Hey!" he laughed, catching it in midair. "I'm helping! Just… in my own way."
Michelle rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible."
He stood up and walked over to where she sat at the desk, placing both hands on her shoulders. "I'm irresistible," he corrected, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. "Big difference."
Michelle tried to stay annoyed, but it melted away the second he wrapped his arms around her from behind.
"I really do need to study," she murmured, though she leaned back into him.
"Okay, okay. Studying. Let's do it. Flashcards, fire away."
She turned in her seat, holding one up.
"Define: operant conditioning."
Steve blinked. "Uh… is that when you condition yourself to want more chocolate every time you see me?"
Michelle burst out laughing, covering her mouth. "That's not even close!"
"Then I'll need a reward for trying," he smirked, leaning closer.
"Steve!" she said, half-scolding, half-laughing.
Their study date quickly dissolved into chaos—Steve making increasingly ridiculous definitions, Michelle laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. Eventually, the books were forgotten, and they lay sprawled out on her bed, heads resting on opposite pillows, legs tangled.
"You're really bad at psychology," Michelle said between giggles.
Steve grinned. "But I'm really good at making you laugh."
She looked over at him, eyes soft. "You are."
The room fell quiet, but in a good way. Their hands found each other again, fingers brushing like instinct.
After a few minutes, Michelle sighed. "I probably didn't learn anything today."
Steve turned toward her. "You learned that love is unpredictable. And that I suck at studying. That's a win, right?"
She chuckled. "You're lucky you're cute."
He leaned forward, brushing his nose against hers. "And you're lucky I'm all yours."
Their lips met again—this time, a little slower, a little deeper.
Because even though no real studying happened, something more important did:
They learned how easy it was to be themselves with each other. To laugh. To fail. To love a little more.
And that, Michelle thought, was the best kind of lesson.