CHAPTER 4 — HIS NAME IN THE SILENCE
992 Words
Morning didn’t arrive all at once.
It unfolded—slow, reluctant—as if the world was still holding its breath from last night.
Light seeped through my curtains in thin, pale streaks. My room should have felt familiar, safe, the way it always did… but it didn’t. The pillow still carried the ghost of my heartbeat. The space around me still felt full—like he had followed me home without ever stepping inside.
Ares Villareal.
His name alone had weight. Not the kind that forced itself onto you, but the quiet kind—the kind that stayed, even when you tried to shut the door on it.
I slipped out of bed slowly, careful with every movement, like something fragile inside me might break if I moved too quickly. I didn’t look at myself in the mirror. I didn’t want to see the girl whose pulse still remembered the sound of his voice.
Downstairs, the house was awake—but too quiet.
Mom and Tita Grace sat at the table, coffee cups warm in their hands, voices cut off the moment I entered.
“Good morning,” I said, though my voice didn’t sound like mine.
Mom tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Sit down, anak.”
The chair felt colder than usual. The mug she placed in front of me warmed my fingers, but not the chill inside my chest.
Tita Grace spoke first.
Her voice was gentle, but the words were not.
“Someone saw you yesterday. With… with him.”
She didn’t need to say the name.
We all heard it anyway.
Ares Villareal.
The room felt smaller.
Mom’s hands were trembling. “Zaira, you know their family. They don’t just meet people. They don’t walk beside someone unless—”
She couldn’t finish.
Unless that person mattered.
I stared at the coffee, watching the steam rise and blur my vision.
“He didn’t do anything,” I said quietly. “We just walked.”
Mom touched my hand—soft, pleading.
“Be careful. Don’t let him get attached.”
A bitter sound almost escaped me—half laugh, half something else.
Ares didn’t attach.
Ares decided.
And once he did…
There was no stepping back.
Not for him.
Not for the person he chose.
And the worst part—the part I didn’t want to look at too closely—
was that I hadn’t stepped back either.
---
School
The whispers began before I even reached the gate.
“She’s with him.” “Of all people—her?” “She must not want to live long.”
Eyes followed me like shadows.
Curious. Fearful. Envious.
Everyone watched.
But when I reached the entrance, the air shifted—just enough to feel it run across my skin.
He was there.
Leaning casually against the stone pillar as if it were built for him alone.
Dark shirt, relaxed posture, eyes quiet and aware.
Not flaunting.
Not intimidating.
Just being—and that alone was enough for every voice around us to fall silent.
Ares lifted his gaze—and the world narrowed to a single line between us.
He didn’t move quickly.
He didn’t make a show.
He just pushed off the wall and walked toward me like the space between us had always been temporary.
Close enough that I could feel his warmth, but not touching.
His voice came soft—steady.
“Walk with me.”
Not a question.
Not an order.
Just something that already felt true.
“Ares—” I breathed.
He lowered his eyes—not in irritation, but in something like checking me.
Checking if I was overwhelmed.
Or scared.
“I’m not here to take anything from you,” he said. “I just don’t want you walking alone.”
Simple.
Uncomplicated.
And somehow the most claiming thing I’d ever heard.
My feet moved before my mind caught up.
We walked—side by side—through a hallway that seemed to widen for him and close behind us.
People parted without looking up.
Not because he threatened them.
But because presence alone can be a warning.
Halfway down the hall, I finally whispered, “Why me?”
Ares stopped.
Turned slightly toward me.
His expression didn’t shift—but his voice did.
Lower. Closer.
“Because you don’t look at me like everyone else does.”
My breath caught.
“How do they look at you?”
“Like they want something,” he murmured. “Or like they’re afraid.”
His gaze held mine—quiet, steady, unyielding.
“But you look at me like I’m just… here.”
There was something raw in that.
Something he didn’t mean to give away.
Before I could respond, he stepped just a fraction closer—not touching, just close enough for warmth to reach across the space.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said, voice barely above a breath.
Not a threat.
A promise.
The kind that didn’t need to be repeated.
Then—he stepped back.
Gave me space.
Gave me breath.
And walked toward the end of the hall.
Leaving the world abruptly loud again.
---
Lena
The moment he disappeared around the corner, Lena grabbed me and dragged me into an empty classroom.
Her eyes were wide and frightened.
“Zaira,” she whispered, “what are you doing?”
I swallowed. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.” Her voice wavered. “Everyone knows what happens when Ares chooses someone. They don’t… leave.”
Silence pressed against my ribs.
“He didn’t force me.”
Her expression softened—painfully.
“That’s the thing,” she said. “He doesn’t have to.”
Something in my chest tightened—not fear.
Recognition.
Because deep, deep down…
I knew.
If Ares had decided to stay—
I wasn’t sure I wanted to run.
---
- Writer
