Chapter 7: Closer Than Before
1095 Words
I didn’t plan to think about him as much as I did.
But somehow… he kept finding his way into my thoughts.
Not in a loud way.
Not in a way that took over everything.
But in quiet moments.
In pauses between actions.
In the silence that used to feel empty… but didn’t anymore.
It felt strange.
New.
And a little dangerous.
Because I wasn’t used to this.
I wasn’t used to someone becoming part of my routine without asking for permission.
And yet… there he was.
That evening, I didn’t question it.
I didn’t ask myself if I should go.
I didn’t try to stop it.
I just went.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like something inside me had already decided.
The sky was softer that day.
The air warmer.
Everything felt… calmer.
But my heart didn’t.
It beat a little faster with every step I took.
And I knew why.
He was already there.
Sitting in the same place.
Like always.
Like he belonged there.
Like that space had become ours without us ever saying it out loud.
I slowed down as I approached, trying not to let it show.
Trying to act normal.
Whatever normal was supposed to be now.
“You’re late,” he said without looking at me.
I stopped for a second.
Then sat down.
“Or maybe you’re early,” I replied.
He glanced at me.
And there it was again.
That look.
That calm, steady way he observed me.
“You came anyway,” he said.
It wasn’t a question.
I didn’t answer right away.
Because the truth felt too obvious.
“I guess I did,” I said softly.
Silence settled between us again.
But this time… it felt closer.
Like the distance between us wasn’t just physical anymore.
It was less.
Without realizing it, I sat closer than before.
Not too close.
But enough to notice.
Enough to feel it.
That invisible line was slowly fading.
“Do you always follow routines like this?” he asked.
I looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Coming back to the same place. Same time.”
I shrugged slightly.
“I didn’t think about it like that.”
“But you still did it.”
I frowned a little.
“Why are you analyzing everything I do?”
“I’m not analyzing,” he said calmly.
“I’m paying attention.”
That made my chest tighten just a little.
Because that was exactly what made this feel different.
He noticed things.
Small things.
Things most people ignored.
And I didn’t know if I liked that… or if it scared me.
“You still haven’t told me why you come here,” he said.
I looked ahead, watching the sky shift slowly into evening colors.
“Maybe I like the quiet,” I said.
“Or maybe you don’t want to be alone,” he replied.
That hit deeper than I expected.
I turned to him slightly.
“And you?” I asked.
“Why are you here?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
For the first time, he hesitated.
“I was,” he said slowly, “until you started showing up.”
My heart skipped again.
I looked away quickly, trying to ignore the way that made me feel.
The wind moved softly around us, brushing against my hair.
I instinctively reached up to fix it, but before I could, he moved.
It was a small movement.
Subtle.
But close.
Too close.
His hand paused for a second, like he wasn’t sure if he should.
Then he gently moved a strand of hair away from my face.
My breath caught.
Not because of the action itself…
But because of how it felt.
Careful.
Slow.
Intentional.
His fingers barely touched my skin.
But it was enough.
More than enough.
Neither of us spoke.
For a moment, everything felt suspended.
Like time had slowed down just for that second.
My heart was beating too fast.
Too loud.
And I was sure he could hear it.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t pull away.
And that surprised me.
Because normally, I would have.
Normally, I would have created distance.
But not now.
Not with him.
“You’re not running,” he said quietly.
I looked at him.
“I’m not afraid,” I replied.
He studied my face for a moment.
“Not of me,” he said.
It wasn’t a question.
It was an observation.
And he was right.
I wasn’t afraid of him.
“Maybe I should be,” I said softly.
He shook his head slightly.
“Maybe,” he said.
“But you’re not.”
That small exchange felt heavier than it should have.
Because it meant something.
I let out a slow breath, trying to steady myself.
“You’re different,” I said before I could stop myself.
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Different how?”
I hesitated.
“Like you see things you’re not supposed to.”
He held my gaze.
“Or maybe you just don’t like being seen.”
That again.
That feeling.
Like he was getting closer to something I kept hidden.
And instead of pushing him away…
I stayed.
The sky darkened slowly, and the city lights began to appear around us.
But I barely noticed.
Because everything felt focused on this moment.
On him.
On the space between us that wasn’t really space anymore.
“I should go,” I said eventually.
But my voice didn’t carry the same urgency as before.
I didn’t stand up right away.
Neither did he.
“You say that every time,” he said.
“And I always leave,” I replied.
“But you always come back.”
I didn’t argue with that.
Because now it was true.
I stood up slowly.
This time, I didn’t rush.
And as I started to walk away, I felt it again.
That pull.
That invisible connection.
“Marla.”
I stopped.
Turned slightly.
He was looking at me.
More serious this time.
“Be careful,” he said.
My brows furrowed slightly.
“Of what?”
He paused.
“Of things that feel easy… but aren’t.”
That stayed with me.
Even after I walked away.
Even after I reached my apartment.
Even after I lay down in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Because for the first time…
Something didn’t just feel easy.
It felt real.
And that was the part that scared me the most.
I closed my eyes slowly.
And without meaning to…
I smiled.
- Writer
