Fourth Year | College
If love had a language, theirs was spoken through small things—familiar shortcuts, unspoken favors, and stolen hours in between college chaos. Vince knew Stella was tired. Her body was tired. Her mind was tired. But her heart? Still full of the same fire that made him fall years ago.
It was her thesis year. BS Interior Design, final stretch. And Vince, in between basketball trainings and business classes, had made it his personal mission to become her human caffeine.
"Vince, hindi ko na talaga kaya. Like, my brain is literal mud," Stella mumbled, forehead flat on the table at the Talamban campus café.
Vince pushed a large Iced Spanish Latte toward her. "Babe. No to burnout, yes to productivity. Here oh, 100% support from your number one fan."
Stella groaned but took the drink. "You’re the best. But also, bakit ikaw 'yung mas chill eh ikaw din may finals?"
"'Cause I’m a business major and, let’s face it, kami ‘yung pinaka-relaxed sa lahat ng colleges," he grinned, then leaned closer. "Plus, I like seeing you in your element. Pag stressed ka, mas lalo kang maganda."
She gave him a side eye, half-annoyed, half-amused. "Ang lakas maka-bobo ng sinabi mo. Pero sige na nga."
Truth be told, Vince wasn’t just helping her out of love. He was doing it because he was serious about her—long term serious. And while he hadn’t said it out loud yet, the thought had been growing in his chest for months now.
They worked in tandem that afternoon. Vince helped sketch out presentation layouts, reviewed Stella’s plans, and printed mockups. He was surprisingly organized for someone who used to submit late homework in high school.
“Do you really want to do this? Like, help me through this thesis stuff?” she asked one night as they assembled her scale model on the floor of her apartment.
He looked up from cutting cardboard. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Stella hesitated. “Maybe because you feel obligated lang. ‘Cause you’re my boyfriend, and Abby is busy, and my classmates are... well, mostly competitive girls na laging may pasaring.”
Vince paused, placed the blade down, and reached for her hand.
“Hey,” he said softly. “I help you kasi I want to. Not just as your boyfriend, but because I believe in your dream.”
She blinked at him. “Corny mo.”
“Corny na kung corny,” he chuckled. “But honestly, you’re amazing, Stel. Someday, I want to build something—anything—with you.”
“Someday?” she repeated, cheeks tinting pink.
He nodded. “Yeah. Like... you design the space, I run the business. Or you do exhibitions, I handle the deals. Basta, ikaw at ako, working together. Doesn’t have to be soon. Pero gets mo?”
Stella smiled, that rare kind that made him feel like he just scored a buzzer-beater three-pointer.
“Gets ko. I like that, too. Someday.”
They didn’t need big promises. That conversation, soft and tucked between cardboard scraps and glue sticks, was enough to anchor them.
* * *
In the weeks that followed, Stella’s thesis work intensified. Vince was there for it all—carrying her foam boards to class, staying up with her during revisions, even practicing her oral defense with her.
“Okay, pretend I’m the panelist. Why choose monochrome for your concept?” he asked one night, arms crossed, pretending to be intimidating.
Stella rolled her eyes. “'Cause the space I designed focuses on emotional clarity—”
“Objection, masyado kang defensive,” Vince interrupted, fighting a grin.
“Objection ka diyan,” she laughed, throwing a wadded paper at him. “Alam mo, hindi ka talaga nakakatulong minsan!”
He caught the paper and tossed it back. “You love me though.”
“I do. But right now, I love this glue gun more.”
When her final defense finally came, Vince couldn’t be there—varsity duties called him to an intercollegiate game in Manila. But he called her that morning, his voice full of energy.
“Good morning, future topnotcher! Ready to slay?”
She was pacing her apartment. “I’m literally shaking.”
“Normal lang ‘yan, babe. You’ve worked so hard. You got this.”
“I wish you were here,” she whispered.
“I’m with you, always,” he said, cheesy and honest. “Text me after. I wanna be the first one to know.”
* * *
She passed. With flying colors.
Vince sent a bouquet of sunflowers—her favorite—and a handwritten note:
“To my brilliant girl,
You did it. Told you. Can’t wait to see you change the world one space at a time.
Proud of you, always.
– V”
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