The space between us

Chapter 1_ The seat by the window

The late afternoon sun spilled through the tall library windows, painting the wooden tables in warm, golden light. The world outside was buzzing—students rushing to catch the last campus shuttle, voices drifting from the open courtyard—but here, the air was quiet, soft enough to hear the sound of a page turning.

Ethan Li sat by the window, a half-finished notebook in front of him and a coffee that had long since gone cold. He liked this spot—the light, the faint smell of old paper, the way he could watch people pass by without being seen. It had been his place since first year, and no one ever tried to take it. Except, of course, for Ryan Chen.

“Why do you always look like you’re thinking about the end of the world?” Ryan’s voice cut through the quiet, teasing but warm. He dropped into the seat opposite without asking, his backpack hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Ethan glanced up. Ryan’s hair was a little messy, probably from the wind, and there was that familiar spark in his eyes that made it impossible to stay annoyed. “I’m studying,” Ethan replied, though his pen hadn’t moved in five minutes.

“Studying what? How to stare dramatically into the distance?” Ryan leaned over the table, peering at the notes. “Ah, economics. No wonder you look depressed.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Nope,” Ryan said simply. “I was walking past and thought, ‘Hey, I haven’t annoyed Ethan today. Can’t break the streak.’”

It was such a Ryan thing to say that Ethan didn’t even bother to respond. Instead, he reached for his coffee, hiding the faint smile threatening to break through. Ryan had always been like this—loud, impulsive, and completely oblivious to the fact that his presence could make even the dullest afternoon feel lighter.

Outside, the sun dipped lower, the light turning softer, hazier. Ryan leaned back in his chair, looking at Ethan with the kind of easy familiarity that came from years of friendship. “You’re free this weekend, right? Lily wants all of us to go to that art festival by the river.”

“I might be busy,” Ethan said automatically.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Doing what? Sitting here alone with bad coffee? Come on. You never say no to Lily. Besides…” His grin turned just a little softer. “It’s been a while since we all hung out together. I miss it.”

Ethan’s hand stilled on his notebook. He looked up, meeting Ryan’s gaze for a second too long. Something in his chest tightened—not unpleasantly, but in that quiet, aching way he’d learned to live with.

“Fine,” he said, closing his notebook. “But you’re buying me a new coffee. This one’s your fault.”

Ryan laughed, bright and unrestrained, and for a moment the world outside the library windows didn’t seem so far away.

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