The intricately designed Victorian-Oriental buildings and the orange sunset backdropping them were all blurred in my vision. I squinted a little to see the view clearer. It was beautiful, indeed.

I stopped walking for a moment, at the junction where the cobblestone pavement turned into asphalt, to catch a breath. The library was still a long way from here. It was at the other side of the campus. 

The cold and crisp autumn wind blew at me as I stood there, making my pink sweater flap to its direction and pushing my long, straight (unbrushed) hair away from my face. 

I must have looked terrible then. My skin was pale against the pink cloth I was clad in, and my eyes, swollen from the extreme lack of sleep for the last three weeks (or okay, the whole semester) was already the same hue as  my sweater. I wouldn't have been surprised if someone told me that the bags beneath my eyes were identical to the color of the black skinny jeans that I wore.

I hugged my Histology text book closer to my chest to keep me warm. 

The price I pay for my dreams is high; both in a literal and in a poetic sense. 

I continued walking and breathed deeply. I wanted to take in the beauty of my surroundings. I had walked past the arts and sciences buildings and the dorms; now the road was lined with tall, old trees shedding their leaves as winter was just around the corner. I listened to the sound of my shoes scraping against the road. 

I started to get completely lost in my incoherent thoughts...about bacteria and the diseases they could cause, their colonial morphology, their medium of choice, and biochemical reactions; and then to medically significant parasites and their life cycles.

The quiet 'ding' of a bell interrupted my recollections. I could hear the sound of a bicycle fast approaching, its rider pushing the pedals quickly.

The rider was apparently a he. He zoomed past me, turning into a blur of blue and gray. For a moment, I thought he looked back and smiled at me, but I couldn't be sure.

At that point, my feet were already aching from all the walking I had done. I wished I had a bike. I wished I knew how to ride a bike in the first place.

But before I could complain, the library finally came into view. Its white, modern yet oriental accented facade was no longer obscured by trees. I picked up my pace. I still had eighteen chapters of Histology left to study, yet only thirteen hours to go before the final exam.

I gathered my strength as I reached the doorstep, preparing to open the heavy glass doors with my clammy hands (too much coffee, you guessed that right). Yet much to my surprise, another pair of hands had pushed the doors open for me. 

"Thank--" I looked over my shoulder to see who it was and to say thank you, but the words got stuck in my throat as I gazed upon his face. 

He was incredibly handsome. His brown eyes, perfect nose, and his smile which cutely curved more to one side were striking. 

"Thank you," I managed to continue when I regained my composure. I realized that he was the same guy on the bicycle that I saw earlier.

He continued to stand there awkwardly with one arm over my shoulder to open the door, close enough to me that I could smell his cologne. He studied my face (handsome boy, please don't. I know I don't look pretty right now at all. Here, study hematology for me instead.) for a few moments before he realized that he had been staring at me.

He turned red and smiled again shyly as he whispered, "You're welcome."

Still not forgetting the task I had at hand, I walked straight to the study area without bothering to see where the handsome stranger had sat even though I was unarguably smitten by him. I studied quietly for the next two hours before I could feel my eyelids starting to drop. I had only slept for two hours the previous night, the night before that, and for the last two weeks.

I got up from my chair to get myself a hot cup of coffee from the vending machine, and noticed how the study area was mostly empty as I walked back to where I sat.

I took a sip of the hot instant coffee in my hands before I started to read where I had left off. It was so quiet; I could concentrate well. But the next thing I knew, everything had turned into black. I was lost in dreamland. 

I must have slept for at least thirty minutes. My cheek was flattened against my textbook. When I opened my eyes, the first words I could see were "Glisson's capsule," "Disse's space," "hepatic portal triad," and a person wearing a gray cardigan over a white shirt sitting in the chair right beside me. 

And upon realizing that it was the same guy who opened the door for me earlier, I jolted awake and sat up straight. How long had he been sitting there?

He caught me looking at him, but instead of looking away, he met my eye and smiled, making me feel all jittery inside. I managed to smile back before I made myself face my Histology book again.

The hands of the clock continued to tick away. We studied beside each other in silence. I occasionally stole glances at him (I hope he didn't notice) and the book he was reading.

As far as my impaired eyesight could see, he was also studying histology. But it was far more extensive and detailed than what I was reading. He was a medical proper student; while I was already dying in my pre-med course.

It was getting late. I heard the chair beside me squeak as my handsome seat mate got up to leave. I pretended not to notice as he was organizing his belongings and placing them into his black backpack. He didn't have to know that I liked having his presence...yet. (Or maybe he already did, so let's not make it more obvious.)

All of a sudden I saw his hand press down a yellow stick on note beside my book. Written on it, in fine red ink, was, "You can do it! Happy studying :)"

I couldn't help but melt deep inside. A note like this meant so much at this point: when exams are far more difficult than you imagine even though you've pushed yourself to your limits to prepare for it; when efforts seem so futile and you feel like giving up; when hope is almost lost.

I turned around just in time before he disappeared into the hallway. He gave me a heartwarming eye smile and waved goodbye.

I could only smile back in reply.

In the spur of the moment, I forgot to ask for his name. But I wish I at least knew who he was so I could thank him properly for that random (and very sweet) act of kindness. He was my mystery boy...and I kept him in the back of my mind, hoping that I would meet him again.

But in a university as huge as this one, was there really a chance that I would see him again?