Butterflies. They’re usually associated with calmness, I know, and even though I’m gazing out my window, watching a monarch perch atop a flower, all I can feel is raw anxiety.

It’s quite a contrast, the more artistic side of me notes, the way the sun’s early morning rays are warm against my face and the way they capture falling dust particles, colouring them as a child does a picture; yet here I am, clutching my abdomen while my own butterflies threaten to consume me from the inside out.

Graduation is mere hours away and I still haven’t chosen a career path.

I hear a gasping sound and puzzle at it for a moment before realizing it’s me. Air drags past my clenched teeth, scraping along its journey to my lungs whilst panic ensues. I’ve always hated uncertainties, journeys without a set path, and this is no exception.

I pull at the thin cotton of my pajama pants, balling the material in my fist until I see the whites of my knuckles.

There is light pressure against my waist followed by a bony chin digging into my shoulder. I know from the familiar touches that it’s Luhan: only he carries the scent of strawberries and cream everywhere he goes.

“You’re tense,” he observes quietly, squishing himself into the non-existent space beside me on the window seat. The arm encircling my waist squeezes gently while he traces the outlines of my protruding collar bones with the other. “You’re going to be fine, you know,” he says after a moment. “And I don’t just mean at the ceremony later.”

I sigh, looking down at our legs, intertwined as they are on the ledge. “I know,” I finally reply. “You’re probably right, too; it’s all just really overwhelming right now.”

I can feel him nod, can imagine him chewing his lip while he thinks of something helpful to say. Words must have escaped him, however, because I soon feel the soft, tickling sensation of fingers running through the short hairs near my spine. I let out a little puff of air, unconsciously leaning into the welcome touch.

“Just breathe, okay?” he murmurs. He unfolds himself into a standing position, bending over to blow a raspberry against my neck, and then straightening himself back up to grin at me. “Come on, big boy,” he beckons. “You have a big day ahead of you.”

I stumble to my feet to get ready, feeling any previous worry melt away. My whole life is ahead of me - or more accurately, two metres ahead of me - and I intend to make the most of every second.

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