Raka almost said it.
They were walking by the river one evening, after she texted him a simple:
"Want to meet today? I need to get out."
It surprised him. She never initiated. Not once in the weeks they'd known each other. But he didn't ask questions. Didn't overthink. Just replied:
"Yes."
And now they were here. The sky above them stretched in soft gold and lilac hues, as if dusk had been painted gently with a fingertip. The breeze moved like a memory cool, quiet, fading too fast.
They walked slowly, shoulder to shoulder. Not touching. Not rushing.
"I like this," Nayla said after a while.
"The river?"
She shook her head. "Being outside. With you. No need to reply instantly. No pressure to be interesting."
Raka glanced at her. "You don't think you're interesting?"
She gave a tiny shrug. "People like noise. I'm not noise."
He smiled. "You're signal."
She blinked, caught off guard.
"You don't waste words," he added. "Everything you say means something."
She looked away, but he saw the faint blush bloom on her cheeks before she could hide it.
Raka almost said it then.
I like you. A lot.And I think you know that.But I need to know if I'm not the only one hoping here.
But he didn't. The moment felt too fragile, like saying too much would break it.
So he held it in.
Instead, she asked so quietly it almost slipped past the wind, "Do I exhaust you?"
He stopped walking.
"What?"
"I know I'm hard to read. And I don't reply fast. Sometimes I feel like I frustrate you."
There was no bitterness in her tone, just quiet vulnerability. A small offering of honesty.
Raka turned toward her. "You don't exhaust me, Nayla."
She looked up, uncertain.
"You slow me down," he said, "but in the best way. You make me think about what I'm saying. About what I'm feeling. I don't feel like I have to perform with you. I just... feel more real."
Her eyes lingered on his, searching for any trace of insincerity. Then her lips tugged into a soft, tentative, and full of something unspoken.
"Okay," she said.
It was just one word, but it landed like a promise.
He didn't say "I like you."
But she didn't need him to. Not yet.
Because for the first time, she wasn't bracing for retreat.For the first time, she felt seen in the quiet.
And she didn't want to run.
Not tonight.Not from this.Not from him.