Chapter Text
The library at my school always feels colder than the rest of the building, like someone cranked the aircon twenty years ago and forgot to turn it off. It’s quiet, obviously, but not the comfortable kind. You can hear every page turn, every pen tap, every anxious breath. It makes my skin itch in a way I can’t explain, but I still come anyway, because everywhere else on campus is worse.
I step inside, already regretting it, and of course I see him. Kai is at the main table in the centre, the one no normal person sits at unless they’re aiming for valedictorian or a stress-induced breakdown. He’s leaning over his notebook, writing like he’s in some secret race he’s the only contestant in. The lamps above him make this warm circle around his shoulders, and for some stupid reason it makes him look even more focused. Or smug. Probably both.
I slow down before I reach him, even though I tell myself I'm not slowing down because of him. It’s just instinct or whatever. It’s weird how someone can make you feel like you’re walking into a test you didn’t study for when all they’re doing is breathing.
The chair across from him is empty. Of course it is. Because fate hates me.
I hover for a second, trying to decide if sitting there makes me look brave, desperate, or just dumb. Kai looks up before I’ve decided. His eyes flick over me quickly, like he’s taking inventory. He doesn’t smile or frown, just acknowledges me in that calm way of his that somehow makes me feel judged anyway.
I sit. The chair makes a tiny squeak as I pull it out, and someone two shelves away looks at me like I’ve committed a crime. Kai doesn’t react, which annoys me even more.
I open my book but my eyes don’t focus. The print swims a little. I can feel him writing across from me, that steady, controlled motion. He doesn’t fidget. He barely blinks. It’s unnerving, how comfortable he looks in a place that makes everyone else miserable.
For a minute I convince myself he hasn’t noticed me struggling, but then he speaks.
“You’re usually more focused than this.”
The comment is so casual it takes me a second to process that it’s about me. I look up and he’s still writing, eyes on the page like the words came out of him by accident.
“I’m fine,” I say, even though my voice betrays me a little. I don't have to explain myself. Not to anyone. Not to him in particular.
He finally glances up. Just a small shift of his eyes. “Didn’t say you weren’t.”
I don’t have a comeback. My mind blanks. I stare at the paragraph in my textbook like it might save me, but I’ve reread the same sentence five times now and it refuses to make sense. I hate that he can tell.
For a few minutes we sit there, the silence heavy but not exactly uncomfortable. More like… charged. Like he’s working and I’m pretending to. Every so often his pen pauses, and I swear he’s waiting for something, though I can’t tell what.
Someone drops a stack of books in the back of the room and both of us look up. The librarian snaps at them in a whisper-shout. The spell breaks a little. Kai closes his notebook, slipping something inside it before he shuts it completely. He stands, pushing his chair in quietly.
“See you later,” he says, like we’re friends or something.
I don’t answer. I’m too busy staring at the table where he sat.
After he leaves, I notice he left a sticky note stuck halfway under my textbook. It’s small, bright yellow, folded once. My heart stutters stupidly as I pull it free.
There’s only one sentence on it:
“Page 214 will help.”
My breath catches. He knew what i was stuck on, and the worst part? He didn’t even stay long enough to see if he was right. And oh, do I hope he wasn't.