CHAPTER FIVE: WHAT WE DON'T SAY
558 Words
Ava had always believed she liked quiet.
Not silence exactly—just the absence of expectation. The kind that let her exist without performing, without explaining herself. But tonight, with the power out and the apartment stripped of its usual noise, the quiet felt heavier.
Elias sat across from her, elbows resting on his knees, the small torch on the table between them casting uneven light. It made everything feel closer than it should’ve been. Too intimate for neighbors who barely knew each other.
She crossed her arms, more for grounding than warmth.
Neither of them spoke.
It was strange how natural it felt to sit like this. Not awkward. Just… suspended. As though saying the wrong thing might break whatever fragile understanding was forming.
Elias was the one who moved first, shifting slightly, exhaling through his nose. “You’re really good iat this,” he said.
“At what?” Ava asked.
“Being present without saying much.”
She let out a quiet breath. “It’s a survival skill.”
He glanced up at her then. “From what?”
Her jaw tightened. She hadn’t meant to invite that question. She considered brushing it off, offering something light. She didn’t.
“From disappointment,” she said instead. “From thinking people mean what they say.”
Elias didn’t rush to respond. He rarely did. When he spoke, his voice was lower. Careful. “That usually comes from someone breaking a promise.”
Ava’s fingers curled into her sleeve. “More than one.”
The air shifted. He leaned back slightly, as if giving her space without withdrawing completely.
“I stay busy,” he said after a moment. “It’s easier than dealing with what I’m avoiding.”
She looked at him. “What are you avoiding?”
“Myself,” he admitted. “The version of me that isn’t useful to anyone.”
That landed deeper than she expected.
Ava uncrossed her arms. “You don’t have to be useful all the time.”
He smiled, small and tired. “Try telling that to my family.”
She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she studied him—really studied him. The way his shoulders slumped when he thought no one was judging him. The way his eyes softened when he spoke honestly.
“You know,” she said quietly, “I think we’re both afraid of being seen when we’re not at our best.”
Elias met her gaze. Held it.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think that’s exactly it.”
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable this time. It felt earned. Shared.
Ava noticed how close he was now—close enough to feel his warmth, to be aware of every small movement. Her heart beat faster, annoyed at itself.
Nothing happened.
And somehow, that mattered more.
When the power finally flickered back on, neither of them moved right away. It felt like the world was intruding on something unfinished.
Eventually, Elias stood. “I should go.”
“Yeah,” she said. “You should.”
At the door, he paused. Looked back at her like he wanted to say something else.
He didn’t.
After he left, Ava stood alone in her apartment, lights on, heart unsettled, realizing something she didn’t want to admit yet—
Some silences were louder than words.
- Writer
