(The beginning of their subtle friendship: cautious, awkward, and oddly tender)
Kade
She came back.
He hadn't expected her to. That first day in the library, he'd walked home in the rain with his hoodie clinging to him like a second skin, convinced it had been a fluke. A moment of shared oxygen and eye contact that would never repeat itself.
But then—
She came back.
The next day. Same spot. Same sound of heels on tile. Same deliberate rhythm—like the world moved to her pulse, not the other way around.
She didn't ask if she could sit. She just did.
At first, Kade didn't look up. He pretended to keep reading. But his heart pounded like a riot in his chest.
He could feel her presence—so close it was suffocating, so alive it was impossible not to feel it in his skin.
She smelled like peppermint and vanilla. Like heat and control.
She didn't speak.
Not for a full three minutes.
Then—
"What book?"
Kade blinked. He looked down. Realized he hadn't turned the page once since she sat.
"…This?" he mumbled. "Uh… The Things They Carried."
"War stuff?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Kade paused.
The question wasn't mocking. Just curious. Genuinely.
"I guess…" he said slowly, "…it's about people carrying what they're not supposed to. And pretending it's nothing."
When he looked up, her face had gone still.
Expression unreadable.
But she didn't look away.
Viera
His voice was softer today.
Still rough, like it had been filed down by years of silence, but a little less wary. She liked the shape of it—unpolished, sincere.
And what he said?
It hit harder than she wanted to admit.
People carrying what they're not supposed to.
That was her whole life.
A glass house she wasn't allowed to escape from. A parade of expectations sewn into the lining of her uniform skirt.
She didn't say anything for a moment.
Then she looked at him—really looked.
Dark circles under his eyes. Hands tucked into his sleeves. Shoulders curved inward like he was trying to disappear.
But there was something in his eyes.
A flicker. A kind of tired clarity.
The kind you only get after pain.
And still, he hadn't turned away from her.
She leaned back in her chair, smirked slightly. "You always talk like a poet?"
His ears flushed pink again.
Cute.
He shrugged. "Only when people ask dumb questions."
She laughed.
And God, she didn't fake it.
Kade
The sound of her laugh did something to him.
It wasn't pretty like on social media. It wasn't the curated laugh of a cheerleader in the hallway, all teeth and practiced timing.
It was sudden. Real. Uncontrolled.
It hit something inside him like a bell.
And it scared him.
Because this… this felt like something being planted.
A seed he hadn't agreed to.
A softness he didn't have room for.
He looked away.
"Why are you… here?" he asked. Quiet, not accusatory. Just confused.
Viera tilted her head. "You're interesting."
He frowned.
"No, I'm not."
"You're interesting because you think you're not."
He had no reply for that.
She stood.
"See you tomorrow," she said like it was obvious.
And left.
Viera
Day after day.
Little by little.
They carved out a rhythm.
Not quite friends. Not strangers.
Some days, she just sat there and read while he did too.
Other days, she'd toss him questions like stones into a pond—watching how his eyes shifted when he answered. How he guarded himself like everything inside him was on fire and he didn't want her to get burned.
And yet—
He stayed.
Never invited her. Never reached out. But never told her to leave, either.
She thought about him at night.
In quiet moments.
More than she meant to.
Not in a romantic way. Not yet.
But in a way that unnerved her.
He was pulling something out of her—not with hands, but with silence.
She hadn't realized how much she needed someone who didn't want anything from her.
And Kade?
He just… existed.
Solid. Present.
Real.
And she found herself jealous of his honesty.
Kade
It was Friday when she poked him in the side.
Out of nowhere.
A jab. Playful.
Kade nearly jumped out of his chair.
He jerked so hard he knocked his book off the table.
His hand went immediately to his ribs. His face went red.
"What the hell?" he hissed.
Viera was grinning like she'd just found gold in a trash can.
"You're ticklish?"
He glared at her.
"Don't."
She leaned closer.
"Don't what?"
He didn't respond.
But his blush said enough.
She smirked. "This is valuable information."
"It's dangerous information," he muttered.
She laughed again.
And this time… he smiled.
Just barely.
But enough that she caught it.
And tucked it somewhere safe.
Viera
They still hadn't exchanged phone numbers.
Still didn't sit together in the cafeteria.
Still hadn't told anyone about the library visits.
But somehow, it felt bigger than that.
Every conversation was a thread. Every glance a brick. They were building something slow, something unspoken, and it terrified her.
Because Kade didn't flirt.
He didn't compliment her.
Didn't try to touch her.
Didn't try to impress her.
He just listened. And when he spoke, it meant something.
And in a world full of noise and fakeness and curated lies…
He was the most honest thing she'd ever met.
She'd never had a friendship like this.
It felt dangerous.
Like it might become something else.
Something real.
And the part of her that lived behind the mirrors and cruelty…
Wasn't sure she was ready for that.
Kade
He didn't know what she saw in him.
Didn't know why she kept coming back.
But she did.
And every time, it chipped away at the voice in his head that told him he was unworthy.
He wasn't healed.
Not even close.
But for the first time since childhood…
He didn't feel completely alone.
End of Chapter 4
Next: Chapter 5 – The Spark