Talia didn't believe in clean slates.
Life didn't work like that. It didn't come with reset buttons or conveniently timed amnesia. Things stuck with you—memories, scars, people you tried to forget. Especially people like Ezra Lane.
So when she agreed to "talk," she wasn't expecting miracles. Just… a start.
And somehow, that made all the difference.
They met that Friday at the corner café near the anatomy building. The one that smelled like burnt espresso and desperation during finals season. Talia picked a booth by the window. Ezra showed up five minutes early, nervously holding two cups—her usual caramel cold brew and a black coffee for himself.
He remembered.
She hated how much that mattered.
"Thanks," she said, taking the cup. Their fingers brushed. He pulled away like she was made of glass.
They sat in silence for a beat too long.
Then, like pulling off a bandage, Ezra said, "My dad's okay. He's in recovery. The doctors think he'll walk again, with time."
"That's good," she said quietly. "I'm glad."
He nodded. "I should've told you. I should've texted. But everything happened so fast, and I—"
"Panicked," she finished for him. "I know. I just… I don't do well with people disappearing on me."
"I'm not trying to make excuses," he said. "But I want to be better. If you'll let me."
Her walls bristled—automatic, instinctual. But she didn't shut him down.
Instead, she looked out the window. The city lights blinked in the dusk like tiny, flickering apologies.
"Why me?" she asked.
Ezra tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you're this careful, thoughtful, sweet-as-hell med nerd. And I'm… me."
"Talia," he said, gently. "Do you honestly not see what I see?"
She scoffed. "What, a stubborn disaster who parties too much and keeps people at arm's length?"
"I see someone strong," he said. "Someone who doesn't need saving, but maybe… wouldn't mind being stood beside for once."
Her chest tightened. She hadn't realized how much she wanted that until he said it.
They talked until the café closed. About classes, families, fears, and futures. He told her about his mom's laugh and how he used to memorize anatomy charts for fun. She told him about growing up with a single dad who taught her how to change tires but never how to talk about her feelings.
He laughed at that. Not in a mocking way—more like he was glad to know her. Really know her.
They walked back to campus under the stars. No handholding. No grand gestures. Just quiet steps and the sound of things beginning again.
Over the next few weeks, things got... complicated.
Not bad. Not toxic. Just tangled. Like hearts trying to rewire themselves after a short circuit.
They didn't jump back into being a couple. There were no late-night make outs or stolen dorm-room kisses. Instead, they studied together again, talked between lectures, shared coffee like friends who might be more but didn't have a label yet.
It was new. It was fragile.
It was everything Talia wasn't used to.
And it terrified her.
Because every moment she let him closer, she felt the edges of her independence curling back. Not in a losing-herself way. In a what if this actually matters kind of way.
Ezra wasn't pushy. He didn't try to pick up where they left off. He gave her space and met her halfway—always halfway. Which made it even harder to stay guarded.
One night, after a brutal exam, she found herself at his dorm. No plans. No texts. Just… knocking on his door like her feet had a mind of their own.
He opened it wearing plaid pajama pants and a shirt two sizes too big. His hair was a mess. She loved that.
"I brought Thai food," she said, holding up the bag.
He blinked. "You okay?"
She nodded. "Just… didn't want to eat alone."
He stepped aside. "Then come in."
They sat on his floor, eating spring rolls and pad see ew, laughing about how badly they'd messed up the pharmacology section.
"Do you think we'll make it?" she asked suddenly.
He looked over. "Make what?"
"Med school. Life. Us. Any of it."
Ezra leaned back on his hands, thoughtful. "I think making it doesn't mean being perfect. I think it means showing up. Even when it's hard."
Talia stared at him. This soft, brilliant, maddening boy. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to run.
Instead, she whispered, "I'm scared."
He nodded. "Me too."
They didn't kiss that night. They didn't need to. Something deeper happened in that quiet—something neither of them knew how to name yet.
But it felt real.
And that was enough.
A few days later, it nearly all unraveled again.
Talia was at a party. One she swore she wasn't going to, but her roommate had begged, and she needed noise to drown the ache.
She didn't drink—not much. Just enough to feel her skin hum. Enough to blur the edges of her guilt. She danced with a guy she didn't know. Smiled when she didn't feel like it.
Then she heard Ezra's name.
"He's so into her, it's pathetic," someone slurred behind her. "Talia Quinn? That girl's a mess. He could do so much better."
The words were knives she'd heard before. From people. From herself.
She left the party before midnight, heart pounding like it was trying to escape.
Ezra was in the library when she found him. Alone. Studying cardiac rhythms.
"Talia?" he looked up, surprised.
"Am I a mess?" she blurted.
He blinked. "What?"
"Be honest. Everyone says it. I party too much. I don't open up. I'm not… like you."
He stood, slowly. "Where's this coming from?"
"Just answer the question."
He stepped toward her, eyes steady. "You're messy, yeah. Complicated. Rough around the edges."
Her heart dropped.
"But so am I," he continued. "I just hide mine better."
She stared at him.
He reached out—hesitant, waiting—and touched her hand.
"I don't want perfect," he said. "I want you. With all your chaos and all your fire. I'm not scared of your mess, Talia. I'm scared of you walking away from it."
Something cracked in her chest.
So she did the one thing she hadn't done in weeks.
She leaned in and kissed him.
Slow. Real. Not like the first time—wild and impulsive—but like a promise stitched into a heartbeat.
When they pulled apart, she whispered, "I'm still scared."
"So am I," he said. "But maybe we can be scared together."