Chapter 2 Observation
1174 Words
There is something strange about waking up the next morning and knowing your life shifted even though nothing visibly changed.
The sky is still blue. The school is still loud. People are still cruel.
But Noah feels it. That tiny shift inside his chest.
He hates it.
He walks through the hallway, books pressed close to his chest, trying so hard to blend into the noise. But today the air feels heavier. Eyes linger. Whispers travel faster. Everyone is suddenly aware of him.
Because yesterday… the king of the school sat beside a ghost.
And ghosts are not supposed to be interesting.
“Is that him?” “That’s the boy Aiden sat with.” “He doesn’t look special…” “Maybe he’s rich?” “No, his shoes are basic.” “So why him?”
Noah breathes in.
Three seconds. Calm. Silence inside.
He keeps walking.
But someone else has already noticed him too.
Aiden stands leaning against his locker down the hall, hands in pockets, posture lazy, expression unreadable. His teammates talk around him, laughing loud, joking, existing in the confidence of boys who believe they own the world.
He isn’t listening.
He is looking.
At Noah.
His eyes track him from the moment he enters the hallway, like gravity refuses to let Noah move without pulling Aiden’s attention along with him.
Most people stare at Noah like curiosity. Aiden stares like analysis.
Observation.
Like he’s learning him. Studying him. Memorizing him.
Noah pretends not to notice. He fails.
When their eyes meet for a brief second across the hallway, something sparks again.
Familiar. Dangerous.
Aiden smirks slightly.
Noah looks away first.
He hates losing that invisible stare battle.
---
Classes drag forward.
Noah sits in his usual window seat. He takes notes. He answers questions calmly when called. His voice is soft, but confident, laced with precision and logic that most of his classmates don’t bother developing.
No one really pays attention to him in class.
Except today.
Aiden does.
They’re not even in the same row. But Aiden leans his head back against his chair, one arm folded, pen absentmindedly tapping his lips… eyes unreadably locked on Noah.
Watching how he frowns in concentration. Watching how he presses his lips lightly when thinking. Watching the small crease at his brows when questions interest him.
He fascinates him.
Most people act big to look strong. Noah acts small… and still feels stronger than all of them.
Interesting.
The teacher asks a hard question. Silence fills the class. No one wants to think. No one wants the effort.
Noah raises his hand.
He answers. Calm. Precise. Elegant logic like poetry.
The class stares like he spoke magic.
The teacher smiles proudly.
Aiden’s lips curl slowly.
“Smart boy,” he murmurs to himself.
Someone beside him rolls their eyes. “Why are you staring at that guy so much?”
Aiden doesn’t respond.
Because he genuinely doesn’t know the answer.
---
Break time.
Noah goes to the library — his sanctuary. Quiet shelves. Soft air. Wooden tables. Sun filtering gently through tall windows.
Books don’t judge. Books don’t whisper. Books don’t stare.
Except today… someone does.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Confident.
Purposeful.
Noah doesn’t look up.
“I wasn’t finished yesterday,” Aiden says as he drops into the seat across from him like he belongs there.
Noah closes his book gently.
“…Finished with what?” his voice is low.
“Observing you.”
Calm words. And yet somehow… bold.
Noah exhales slowly. “You’re strange.”
Aiden smiles lazily. “I’ve been called worse.”
Silence settles — not awkward — thick and alive. The kind of silence where breaths matter. Where eyes matter. Where everything unspoken screams louder than sound.
Aiden leans forward.
“So. Why do you let people treat you like you don’t exist?”
Noah’s gaze sharpens just a little.
“I exist,” he replies quietly. “I just don’t perform.”
Aiden processes.
Interesting. Again.
“You don’t talk much,” Aiden says.
“You talk too much,” Noah counters calmly.
“You avoid people.”
“You chase trouble.”
“You’re quiet.”
“You’re loud.”
“You—”
“You like this,” Noah cuts in softly.
Aiden pauses.
The air tightens.
“What?”
“You like pushing people. Testing them. Seeing reactions. Seeing cracks.” Noah’s eyes meet his directly. There is no fear. Only clarity. “You want to know who breaks… and who doesn’t.”
Aiden’s breath stills for a moment.
Then slowly… a dangerous grin spreads.
“…And you?”
“I don’t break,” Noah whispers.
Lightning.
That’s what it feels like.
Two storms meeting silently in the middle of a quiet room.
Aiden leans back, heartbeat louder than expected.
Noah returns to his book like nothing happened.
Aiden stares at him.
Beautiful. Sharp. Soft. Steel wrapped in warm skin.
He wants more.
---
But peace never lasts.
Later in the afternoon, Noah walks down a lonely corridor. Two boys block his path. Older. Loud. The type who laugh too hard at hurting others.
“Hey smart boy,” one sneers. “So you’re friends with Aiden now?”
“We just want to see what makes you special,” the other adds mockingly, shoving Noah’s shoulder.
Noah steadies himself, sighs quietly.
“I don’t have time for this,” he says calmly.
Wrong answer.
A hand grabs his collar.
“Talk properly when we speak to you.”
Before anything else can happen…
A hand catches the bully’s wrist.
Strong. Cold. Unmistakable.
Aiden.
His jaw is clenched. Eyes dark. Voice dangerous.
“Let him go.”
The bully scoffs until he realizes who is holding him. The confidence drains. Fear sneaks in.
“I—I was just—”
“I said,” Aiden’s voice drops lower, “Let. Him. Go.”
He releases Noah immediately.
Aiden steps in front of Noah slightly. Protective. Instinctive.
Noah watches silently.
The hallway empties fast. Word spreads.
Aiden doesn’t shout. He doesn’t threaten loudly. He doesn’t need to.
His presence is the threat.
“Touch him again,” Aiden says quietly, “and you’ll regret having hands.”
They run.
Silence returns.
Aiden turns slowly.
Their eyes meet.
Noah’s voice is soft. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“I know.”
“So why?”
Aiden breathes out slowly.
“I don’t like people touching what’s not theirs.”
Something slips in the air.
Heat.
Something dangerous and sweet.
Noah swallows.
“That sounded… possessive.”
Aiden smirks faintly.
“Maybe it is.”
For the first time… Noah looks away first.
And his heart isn’t calm anymore.
It’s loud.
Very loud.
---
That day ends with two boys walking in opposite directions… But thinking about the same thing.
Each other.
Observation has turned into awareness.
And awareness? Always leads to something deeper.
Something messier. Something uncontrollable. Something dangerous.
Something beautiful.
The storm is no longer approaching.
It has started.
- Writer
