Chapter Text
The city was still half-asleep when they met at the cafeteria — the kind of morning where the air carried that almost-warm chill of the capital before noon traffic swallowed the streets. She was late, as always, half-smiling, sunglasses perched on her head and the wrinkled button up shirt she religiuosly were with a plated skirt .
He was already there, coffee half gone, staring out the window like he’d been rehearsing this in his head.
“Hey,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him. “Sorry, the underground was late and—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted gently, voice flat but not unkind. “It’s fine.”
He pushed another cup in front of her, iced caramel latte contrasting his hot double espresso.
"I've paid, please"
Something about the way he said it — that soft finality — made her freeze. She placed her bag down slowly, eyes narrowing. “Okay… what’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer right away. His fingers traced the edge of his coffee cup, restless. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, which was, of course, the biggest lie he could have told.
“Then why do you look like you haven’t slept in a week?”
He laughed under his breath — dry, humorless. “Maybe I haven’t.”
Silence settled between them, thick as the fog outside. She crossed her arms, waiting, the patience in her expression sharp. He hated how calm she looked, how easy she made everything seem — even when things were falling apart.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said finally, his nose striked up red, and the eyes were tearing up.
Her smile faded, replaced by that measured confusion she always wore when things got too real. “Do what?”
“This… whatever this is. Us.” He gestured sharpely and vaguely, like the word itself was too complicated to define. “You keep saying you want to take things slow, that you’re not ready for a bigger label, that you don’t know what this means and don't even know if you ever want to change the dinamics. But I’m tired of being stuck in between.”
She looked at him, quiet. “You knew how I was when this started.”
“I did, so well, and I know this part of who you are” he said. “And I thought I could handle it.” His voice cracked, just a little. “But I can’t.”
She felt her heart drop, is this how he interprets her side?, gaze dropping to her hands. “You think I don’t care?”
“I think you don’t know what you want.”
That one hit harder than he expected — and harder than she could hide. Her jaw clenched, her eye's just started to follow his, getting red and humit, but she didn’t argue. He wished she would.
“I like you,” she said finally, voice low. “You know that.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “You like me. But you also like keeping everything at arm’s length — never too serious, never too vulnerable. And I keep… hoping that maybe one day you’ll meet me halfway.”
Her throat tightened. “I can’t be what you want right now.”
“I know.” He smiled, sad and small. “That’s the worst part." He took a deep breath.
"You’re honest about it... You’ve always been.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward — it was tired, resigned. She wanted to reach for him, to fix it somehow, but what would she say? That she’d suddenly be ready? That she’d change the rhythm of who she was just to keep him close?
He stood up, pulling his coat tighter. “I think I just need space,” he said, voice steady this time. “Before this stops being good for either of us.”
Her eyes met his, both being a second apart from breaking down — searching, pleading for something she couldn’t name. “So that’s it?”
He hesitated, then nodded once. “Yeah. For now.”
She wanted to ask what for now meant — a week, a month, forever — but she didn’t. She just watched, speeachless as he walked out of the café, hands shoved in the pockets of his blue coat, the boy's silhouette dissolving into the blur of morning light and furious cars on the street.
When he was gone, she sat there, staring at the empty seat across from her. The world kept moving — a bus screeched outside, people laughed, the barista called an order — but everything in her felt suspended, like her chest had been cracked open in slow motion, and her stomach felt like it was going to burst out of her mouth at any moment.
"You didn't even let me get a chance to catch up"
But deep down, she knew he’d been waiting too long already.