Chapter 9 - Almost Something
692 Words
The days after the infirmary incident at Saint Valencia University felt different, even if nothing on the surface had changed.
Ophelia Marquez told herself she was overthinking it. Liam Castillo was still Liam Castillo-cold, unreadable, always surrounded by noise even when he said nothing at all.
But now, every time she saw him, she remembered something else. Not the fights. Not the rumors. But the quiet moment in the infirmary where he had let her clean his wounds without pulling away.
And that was the problem.
She shouldn't have noticed it.
"You're thinking about him again," Elise Navarro said flatly beside her as they walked through the hallway.
Ophelia immediately shook her head. "I'm not."
Elise raised a brow. "You didn't even hear what I just said."
Ophelia hesitated. "...What did you say?"
"I said you're thinking about Liam."
Ophelia groaned under her breath while Mira laughed behind them. "She's gone," Mira teased. "Completely gone."
"I am sitting right here," Ophelia muttered.
But even as she said it, her eyes drifted across the corridor.
And found him.
Liam Castillo was at the far end of the hallway, leaning against the wall while Theo Ramirez talked animatedly beside him. Ethan Velasco and Marco Villanueva stood nearby, laughing like usual.
He looked normal.
Detached.
Like nothing ever stayed in his mind for too long.
Except this time, his gaze shifted slightly.
And landed on her.
Ophelia froze for half a second.
Then looked away too quickly.
Behind Liam, Theo noticed everything and smirked. "Ohhh," he whispered. "This is getting interesting."
Liam didn't respond. But his eyes stayed on Ophelia a second longer than necessary before he finally turned away.
Later that afternoon, Ophelia found herself at the small café where she worked part-time.
The smell of coffee beans and warm milk usually calmed her, but today her thoughts were too loud.
"Same order?" Chloe Benitez asked as she wiped the counter.
Ophelia nodded weakly. "Yeah."
But even as she worked, her mind kept replaying small moments she shouldn't care about-the way Liam looked at her in class, the way he stood beside her without speaking, the way his hand had stayed still while she cleaned his knuckles.
It was confusing.
Dangerous.
And she hated that she couldn't fully ignore it.
The café door suddenly opened, cutting through her thoughts.
A cold breeze entered first.
Then silence.
Ophelia didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Liam Castillo walked inside like he always did-calm, effortless, instantly pulling attention without trying. A few customers turned their heads. Someone whispered his name.
But Liam didn't look at them.
He looked at her.
Ophelia swallowed and forced herself to act normal. "What do you want?"
"Iced americano," he said simply.
Of course.
She prepared it in silence, trying not to notice that he didn't sit down this time. He stayed near the counter, watching her every move like he was trying to understand something without asking directly.
"You always stare," Ophelia said suddenly, without looking up.
"You always notice," Liam replied.
That made her pause.
She placed the drink on the counter a little too carefully. "Two hundred pesos."
He handed the money over.
Their fingers brushed.
This time, neither pulled away immediately.
It wasn't long-just a second too slow, a second too aware.
Ophelia felt it first: the shift in the air, the way everything else faded slightly.
She looked up.
Liam was already watching her.
Not cold.
Not distant.
Just... present.
"You're still scared of me?" he asked quietly.
Ophelia hesitated. "Should I be?"
A pause.
Then Liam leaned slightly closer over the counter.
"Yes," he said.
But his eyes said something else entirely.
Something softer.
Something he didn't seem willing to admit out loud.
Ophelia's breath caught for half a second before she looked away quickly, breaking whatever moment was forming between them.
Behind her, Chloe nearly dropped a cup after watching everything unfold.
But neither Ophelia nor Liam moved.
Not immediately.
And in that small, fragile silence between them, something unspoken stayed behind-something neither of them knew how to name yet.
Something that made "almost" feel more dangerous than "nothing" ever did.
- Writer
