The night felt calmer now.
But not empty.
⸻
There was something unspoken in the air between them.
Something waiting.
⸻
Elara sat by the window again, legs tucked beneath her, a quiet habit she hadn’t noticed she’d formed.
⸻
Aaron stood a few feet away.
Not distant.
Not close.
⸻
Just… there.
⸻
“I used to hate silence,” he said suddenly.
⸻
Elara glanced at him.
⸻
“You’ve said that before,” she replied.
⸻
He nodded.
⸻
“But I never said why.”
⸻
That made her straighten slightly.
⸻
Because this—
This was different.
⸻
He wasn’t being asked.
⸻
He was choosing.
⸻
“It started when I was eight,” he said.
⸻
The room stilled.
⸻
Elara didn’t interrupt.
⸻
Didn’t move.
⸻
Just listened.
⸻
“There was a storm that night,” Aaron continued. “Worse than yesterday.”
⸻
