Chapter 12 Part two Tangled roots
1199 Words
The walls of the dorm room had started to press in. It wasn’t sudden—it had been building for days. The tight rhythm of classes, the silent glares in the library, the constant weight of unspoken pressure. Avane hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath until she stepped outside.
She didn’t plan on going far. Just a walk, she told herself. Just far enough to feel something different. But as her boots pressed into the soft, pine-scented earth, the pull grew stronger.
The woods were only a few steps beyond the rear trail that looped around the campus perimeter. She had passed them a dozen times, always curious, always hesitant. But now they called to her with a kind of wordless invitation.
It was early afternoon, and shafts of sunlight dappled through the tall trees, painting golden puddles across the forest floor. She inhaled deeply. The air smelled wild—moss, bark, and something sharper, almost electric. It made her skin tingle.
A branch snapped beneath her foot, but the sound felt welcome here. The forest was alive with movement. Birds called from above. Leaves rustled with stories.
Avane didn’t realize how far she’d gone until the sound of campus life completely faded. She spun slowly in place, noting how the trees grew closer here. Tighter. Denser.
Still, she didn’t feel afraid.
Restless, yes. Coiled, like something inside her needed room to stretch.
She kept walking.
It wasn’t long before she saw him.
At first, she thought it was a trick of the light—a shape moving ahead, flickering between trunks. Then he stepped into full view. A boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, tall and lean, standing barefoot in the undergrowth.
And half-naked.
He wore only a pair of black sweatpants that clung to his hips, leaving his chest bare. His skin was golden-brown and smudged with what looked like dirt and paint. Wild curls framed his face, and he tilted his head like he was studying her through invisible lenses.
Avane froze.
“Oh—uh. Sorry,” she said, hands half-raised in a peace offering. “Didn’t know anyone else came out here.”
The boy smiled, casual and easy. “You’re not from around here.”
She blinked. “I go to Blackwood.”
“No, I mean—not from here.” He gestured vaguely around them. “The woods. The rhythm. You don’t move like you belong yet.”
Avane didn’t know how to respond to that, so she laughed instead. “Guess I haven’t had much practice.”
He stepped closer, sniffed once in the air, and frowned slightly.
“You smell... weird.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Wow. That’s a new one.”
He had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Just... off. Like you’ve been trapped inside too long. Like old air and something... muted.”
Avane snorted. “That’s probably exactly what it is. I’ve barely left the dorms for weeks. The closest I’ve been to fresh air is opening my window and inhaling someone's burnt ramen.”
That made him laugh—a bright, surprised sound that echoed warmly between the trees.
“I’m Axel,” he said, offering his hand.
“Avane,” she replied, shaking it.
His grip was warm, calloused, and brief. “You really shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“Why not?” she asked, more curious than alarmed.
He shrugged. “The woods have rules. Some things are better understood when you’re not wandering into them half-aware.”
She smiled a little. “You’re making it sound like a fable.”
“Maybe it is. Maybe you’re the girl who walks into the trees and comes out changed.”
Avane tilted her head. “Do you always talk like that?”
He grinned again, unapologetic. “Only when it fits.”
They started walking together without discussing it. The path beneath them wound through roots and moss, old stones jutting like forgotten bones. Axel moved with practiced ease, barely making a sound. In contrast, Avane stumbled more than once and had to grab the nearest tree to steady herself.
“Okay, I get it,” she said after her third near-faceplant. “I’m not exactly one with nature.”
Axel glanced back, amused. “But you’re trying. That counts.”
They reached a small clearing surrounded by tall ferns and a narrow stream cutting through the center. Axel sat on a flat rock and dipped his fingers into the water.
Avane followed more cautiously, settling onto a nearby log. She watched him in silence for a moment, noting the strange comfort she felt around him. Maybe it was the woods. Or maybe it was him—open, oddly perceptive, and free in a way she envied.
“Do you live near here?” she asked.
“Close enough.”
“Do you always run around barefoot and half-dressed?”
He smirked. “Only when I’m home.”
Avane raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push it. Instead, she pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees.
“I didn’t know why I came out here,” she said softly. “I just felt... stuck.”
Axel nodded like he understood. “It happens. Sometimes your body moves before your mind catches up. Like something inside knows where it needs to be.”
She let those words settle.
“Do you come out here to think?” she asked.
“Sometimes. Or to not think. Or to just be. There’s less noise in the trees. No one trying to shape you into something they understand.”
Avane met his eyes. “Yeah. That’s exactly it.”
They sat in silence again, the stream murmuring between them. A pair of dragonflies danced above the surface, their wings shimmering in the golden light.
“You should come back,” Axel said suddenly. “Next time, I’ll show you the trail that leads to the ridge. It’s got the best view of the valley.”
“You sure I won’t slow you down?”
“You already did.” He smirked. “But I didn’t mind.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Alright, Axel. Deal.”
They stayed a while longer before Axel stood and stretched, his spine cracking audibly.
“You heading back?” she asked.
“Yeah. You should too. It’s not smart to be out here after dusk. Too many roots to trip over.”
She stood as well, brushing off her jeans. “Lead the way.”
They walked back together, the air cooling as shadows lengthened. When they reached the edge of the trees, Axel paused.
“You smell different now,” he said, sniffing the air again.
“Oh god, please don’t say it’s worse.”
“No,” he said, almost to himself. “Just... clearer.”
Then he gave her a wink and vanished into the trees before she could ask what he meant.
Avane stood there for a moment, heart strangely full. Then she turned and made her way back to the dorms—lighter, looser, and no longer stuck.
- Writer
