EPISODE 7: Shadows Between
1021 Words
The morning air smelled of wet grass and sunlight. The rain from the night before had washed everything clean — the streets glistened, the trees whispered, and the sky held that soft blue hue that made the world feel quiet again.
Rasimie’s apartment sat on the edge of campus — a tiny one-bedroom place, the kind with creaky floors and white curtains that danced whenever the wind slipped in through the window cracks. It wasn’t much, but it was hers.
She sat on the couch, a genetics textbook open on her lap, though she’d been reading the same paragraph for the past twenty minutes. Her thoughts refused to stay still. Every time she blinked, she saw his smile — the rain dripping from his hair, the way his eyes softened when he’d told her his story.
It was ridiculous, she told herself. They’d only known each other for weeks. But nothing about this felt ordinary. The way her pulse quickened when he texted. The way silence felt different with him — comfortable, almost sacred.
Her phone buzzed.
Andrew: You’re awake early. Studying again?
She smiled instantly, typing back before she could overthink it.
Rasimie: Trying to. My brain’s not cooperating today.
Andrew: Coffee might fix that. I’m grabbing some. Want one?
Her heart thudded. Coffee. With him.
Rasimie: Sure. But I like mine sweet.
Andrew: Noted. See you in ten.
Ten minutes. That was all it took for her apartment to transform into chaos — she brushed her hair three times, changed tops twice, and sprayed perfume once. Then she caught her reflection and muttered, “Calm down, Rasimie. It’s just coffee.”
Except it wasn’t just coffee. It was him.
When Andrew knocked, she opened the door and nearly lost her breath. He stood there in a plain grey hoodie, holding two paper cups, his usual calm aura making her tiny apartment feel too small.
“Morning,” he said, smiling.
She stepped aside, trying not to seem nervous. “Come in.”
He looked around — the books on her table, the soft blanket on her couch, the faint scent of vanilla that hung in the air. “Cozy,” he said, handing her a cup.
“Thanks,” she said. “I like it quiet.”
“Me too.”
They sat, and for a while, neither spoke. Just the soft clink of coffee cups, the distant sound of morning traffic, and the warmth that seemed to fill the room.
“Do you ever feel like the world’s moving faster than you can catch up?” he asked suddenly.
She looked at him, startled by the honesty in his voice. “All the time. Especially in school. Everyone looks like they’ve figured out who they are, and I’m just… guessing.”
He chuckled softly. “Same. Except I don’t have time to guess.”
She frowned. “You work almost every evening, don’t you?”
He nodded. “Café shifts, sometimes delivery. Rent doesn’t pay itself.”
“I wish you didn’t have to do it all alone.”
His gaze flicked toward her — not quite a smile, not quite a frown. “You’re the first person who’s ever said that.”
Something fluttered in her chest, delicate and aching. She didn’t know what to say, so she looked down, tracing the edge of her cup.
And that was when her doorbell buzzed.
Rasimie frowned. “Who could—?”
When she opened the door, her stomach dropped.
It was Lucien.
He stood there in his usual dark jacket, hands in his pockets, eyes intense in a way that made her skin crawl.
“Rasimie,” he said softly, “you weren’t answering your phone.”
She blinked. “I didn’t see—”
His eyes flicked past her shoulder — to Andrew, sitting on the couch. His expression shifted, sharp and dangerous. “You have company?”
Andrew stood up calmly, his expression unreadable. “Hey.”
Lucien’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Didn’t realize you were the type to bring home guests this early.”
“That’s enough,” Rasimie said quietly, her voice shaking a little.
Lucien tilted his head, studying Andrew. “You’re the guy from the library, right? The one who acts like he’s too good for everyone?”
Andrew didn’t flinch. “You should go.”
The air felt heavy — too still. For a moment, Rasimie thought Lucien might say something worse. But instead, he smirked. “Fine. I’ll see you around, Rasimie.”
When he finally left, she let out a shaky breath. Andrew watched her carefully.
“You okay?”
She nodded, though her hands trembled. “He’s… been around a lot lately. Since the first week of classes. He’s harmless, I think—”
“People who make you afraid aren’t harmless,” Andrew said firmly.
His voice wasn’t angry, but there was something in it that made her heart twist — a quiet protectiveness, the kind that came from somewhere deep.
He stepped closer, his hand brushing hers. “You should be careful, okay?”
She nodded, her throat tight. “I will.”
Later that evening, as the sun fell behind the buildings, Rasimie found herself replaying that moment — his concern, the way his hand had lingered against hers, the steady warmth in his eyes.
And far across campus, in his own small apartment, Andrew sat by his desk, staring at the same rain-streaked window he’d stared at the night before.
He didn’t know what this was between them — it wasn’t simple, it wasn’t expected — but he knew one thing: Rasimie had already become the calm in his storm, the one thing he couldn’t bring himself to push away.
But neither of them saw the shadow that lingered outside Rasimie’s building later that night — a figure watching from the corner, hidden in darkness.
Lucien’s eyes followed the faint glow of her window light, and his voice broke the silence, a whisper meant only for himself.
“She’ll see… she’ll see we’re meant to be.”
- Writer
