The 7pm call
1289 Words
Chapter 13
[Phone ringing…]
Aria stared at the screen, her heart thudding in her chest like a secret knocking from inside. The hidden number flashed again—silent, expectant.
She hesitated only a moment before answering.
Aria (smiling as she answers):
“Hello?”
Elion (his voice warm, slightly nervous):
“Hi… it’s me. I wasn’t sure if you’d really pick up.”
Aria (soft chuckle):
“I said I would, didn’t I?”
(beat)
“You kept your word too. That’s rare these days.”
Elion (relieved):
“I’m glad you think so.”
A brief pause. The kind of quiet that feels full, not awkward—like neither of them wanted to break it too fast.
Aria (gently teasing):
“So… still mysterious. Are you ever going to tell me your name?”
Elion (after a pause):
“Call me… El. Just El. For now.”
Aria (playfully):
“Mmm. El. Okay, secret agent. What do you want to talk about tonight?”
Elion (sincerely):
“You. I want to know… what your world is like. What your days feel like.”
Aria (a little surprised):
“That’s… kind of a big question. No one’s ever asked me that like they really meant it.”
Elion:
“I do mean it.”
She sat back on the couch, one leg tucked under the other. The room was dim, lit only by the soft lamp beside her and the streetlights filtering through the blinds.
Aria (softly):
“Well… my days are usually long. I work in a small office—nothing glamorous. Same routine. Answer emails, organize schedules, smile through customer complaints, pretend I’m not exhausted by noon.”
Elion:
“Do you like it?”
She paused, her eyes tracing the chipped edge of the coffee table.
Aria:
“I like… having a purpose. I like earning my own way. But the job? No, not really. It pays just enough to survive. It’s not… fulfilling. It’s just survival, most days.”
Elion (gently):
“But you keep doing it.”
Aria:
“Yeah. Because I have to. And because… I guess I keep hoping something better will come. Eventually.”
There was a soft rustle on the other end, as if Elion had shifted positions.
Aria (smiling faintly):
“Are you always this quiet? Or just a really good listener?”
Elion (with a soft smile in his voice):
“I’m listening because your voice matters. Your life matters.”
She froze for half a heartbeat. That wasn’t something people said—not even friends. Not like that.
Aria (quietly):
“You’re… different. Most people talk about themselves.”
Elion:
“Maybe I will. One day. When I feel like I deserve to.”
Aria (with a soft laugh):
“Okay, Mr. Deep Thoughts. One more question, then: why did you call me? Really?”
A pause stretched between them, delicate and unhurried.
Elion (after a long breath):
“Because you gave me something I didn’t know I was missing. Just by being you.”
Her hand tightened around the phone.
Aria (barely audible):
“…You make me want to believe in good people again.”
Elion (gently):
“Then let me earn that belief. Even if it takes time.”
They sat in the silence of breath and heartbeats, across a world they couldn’t share—but somehow did anyway.
Aria:
“You’re very careful with your words. Like you think before you speak. That’s… kind of nice.”
Elion:
“I was taught that words carry weight. That even soft ones can leave deep marks.”
Aria (reflecting):
“Yeah. I think you’re right. Some words stay with you for years. Others disappear the second they’re said.”
(beat)
“But yours… yours make me feel calm. Like I’m not so alone in the world.”
Elion (his voice softening):
“You’re not. I promise you that.”
A quiet hum passed through the line. No rush. No pressure. Just two people holding space for each other.
Aria (after a moment):
“I used to read a lot of fairy tales. When I was younger. I’d stay up late imagining that someone out there… would just see me. You know? Not for what I could offer them. Not because I looked a certain way. Just because I existed.”
Elion (softly):
“And did anyone?”
Aria:
“Not really. At least not until tonight.”
A silence followed—more profound than before.
Elion (gently):
“Then let tonight be the beginning.”
Aria:
“Why me?”
Elion (with warmth):
“Because you’re stronger than you think. Kinder than most. And your voice… your voice has been my compass through dark storms.”
She closed her eyes. She didn’t need to understand everything. Some things were just meant to be felt.
Aria:
“Are you far away, El?”
He paused.
Elion (truthfully):
“Yes. Far… but not unreachable.”
Aria (whispering):
“Why does it feel like I’ve known you longer than five minutes?”
Elion:
“Because maybe… your heart has always been listening.”
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Not from sadness. From release. Like something inside her had been aching quietly for years, and tonight, it had been acknowledged.
Aria (choked laugh):
“I’m not usually this open with strangers.”
Elion (gently):
“Then I’m honored you’ve chosen to be open with me.”
Aria (teasing again, needing the lightness):
“You sure you’re not a therapist? Or a monk?”
Elion (smiling):
“No. Just someone who sees light where others overlook it.”
Aria:
“You have this way of making silence feel safe.”
Elion:
“That’s how you’ve always sounded to me.”
She touched the edge of the couch cushion with her fingertips, grounding herself.
Aria (softly):
“I should eat something before I pass out. It’s been a long day.”
Elion:
“Then eat. Rest. And know this—when the world feels heavy again, I’ll be here. Listening.”
Aria (smiling):
“Would it be too much to say… maybe tomorrow?”
Elion (without hesitation):
“Tomorrow.”
Aria (laughs softly):
“Goodnight, El.”
Elion (warmly):
“Goodnight, Aria.”
[Call ends.]
⸻
Elion stood still, the magical orb that had amplified the signal dimming in his palm. His fingers remained curled around it like it held something sacred.
His chest rose and fell with a steady breath. The veil between the realms had not fallen, but tonight, something else had.
“She laughed,” he whispered, more to himself than to the quiet chamber around him.
He had heard her before, through the thin veil between their worlds. Her sighs, her words whispered to the wind, her laughter in fleeting moments—but this was different.
Tonight, she had laughed because of him.
And that… felt like touching sunlight for the first time in five thousand years.
Behind him, in the soft glow of the chamber, his grandmother stepped forward, her long silver robes whispering across the stone floor.
She had been listening. Not to every word, but enough to know the truth written across Elion’s face.
“She said she wants to talk again… tomorrow,” he said, voice trembling just slightly.
The old woman’s eyes sparkled.
“Then tomorrow,” she replied gently, “your voice must be even steadier. A bridge is being built, Elion. Do not rush it. Let her walk toward you in her own time.”
Elion nodded, eyes lifted to the sky beyond the crystal dome of his chamber.
Far above, stars blinked like memories, ancient and watching.
And for the first time in millennia…
He felt alive.
- Writer
