His nose was buried between the spines of a number of books scattered around the wooden table as he force-fed his mind with pieces of information he needed to remember for his exam next day.

Her aquamarine eyes watched him from afar cautiously and she slowly came forward to ask him how he was doing.

"The flowers of my mind are dying of exhaustion; these books are spinning words that don't even make sense anymore. I am tired," he sighed.

"Don't you think you are being a little too hard on yourself?"

"I need good grades, I can't just let this go," he rubbed his palms together.

"I know you need them. But, you could take little breaks, you know? You can't eat up all the pages this book is made up of and digest them too in one go. Look at the peaceful moon for a while and feel the stars lightening the weight on your feather heart."

"Well, for now, these books are all I have and the moon is a misty ball of energy and the stars look like streaks of lightning; the words of these books will get me the grades the sky will never be able to."

"Will the grades make you smile when you're down?"

"No, but, they sure will get me into a college," he sneered.

"I guess, I won't be able to talk any sense into you, tonight," she huffed.

"Nope. But, let me tell you, your lips have infused more words of wisdom into my veins than these books. I know what you're trying to say but, I really need to learn all these lessons."

"I know, you do. Good luck. But, don't forget that you deserve to relax; make sure this burden isn't enough to break your spine."

"It isn't."

"Great. A grade would never be enough to define you."