2nd Floor
The Library
The library provided a place of hushed conversations and shuffling papers, now that exams were over. Elise, Max, and Bri were in their respective corners, each focused on their work.
As the afternoon sun cast a warm glow through the library windows, Elise's peaceful nap continued.
Max and Bri exchanged knowing glances, silently communicating their intentions.
With a small smile, they both rose from their seats, careful not to disturb their sleeping friend.
Max's voice was a playful whisper as she called to Elise. "Eli, sleepyhead, we are going to return some books. We won't be long."
Bri added, her tone equally mischievous. "Yeah, we'll be right back. You keep dreaming."
Elise, half-asleep, murmured a faint response.
"Hm… 'k"
As Max and Bri made their way to through the row of shelves, they shared a knowing look.
The promise of books was merely a lie.
With the library empty now that exams were over, they found themselves in a quieter corner, away from prying ears.
Bri leaned against the wall, her expression taking on a flirtatious edge. "Finally, some alone time."
Max's laughter was a soft melody, her gaze meeting Bri with playful intent.
"Lower your voice. Elise is not far from us."
Bri's grin was unapologetic as she closed the distance between them. "Well, she's a heavy sleeper."
Her fingers gently brushed a stray strand of hair from Max's face, her touch lingering.
Bri's turquoise eyes danced with a mixture of amusement and desire. "You know, Max, you've always had a way of distracting me."
Max's tone held a seductive undertone, her voice a mere whisper. "Oh, is that so? And what are you going to do about it?"
Unbeknownst to them, Trent had entered the library.
He knew he would find her here.
With careful steps, he walked closer, observing her as she slept, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Just as Bri is about to close their distance with a kiss, Max's eyes catches a glimpse of his bright hair from between the rows of books and stopped.
Pulling away from Bri, who pouted in response, she walked quietly up to the white-haired boy.
She pulled him aside, his eyes still fixed on the sleeping Elise.
Max's voice was a blend of exasperation and worry. "You can't just keep dodging people, Trent. Especially Elise. I thought we were best friends."
Trent looked away. "It's not that simple."
"Then make it simple. You can't keep shutting everyone out, especially when it comes to Elise."
A sigh escaped Trent. "You don't understand, Max."
Her tone softened, compassion evident in her eyes. "Then help me understand, Trent. Use words. Your oscillating personality is hurting her."
With a tired exhale, Max continued. "I have known about your feelings for Elise, even before everything happened. She has seen the tattoo, you know."
Trent wasn't hiding the tattoo he had but the meaning and reason behind it, he had vowed to keep it hidden from her.
"Don't worry. She doesn't know the story behind it. Trent, make your intentions clear."
Trent's shoulders slumped, his façade cracking. "I'm not the right person for her. I can't risk hurting her."
Max's voice held conviction. "You don't get to decide that, Trent. Let her make that choice."
"But, Max..."
Max's touch was gentle, her hand resting on his arm. "No conjunctions. Trent, you won't know unless you actually make an effort."
**********************
Trent's POV
**Flashback**
The past emerged vividly—losing his mother at a tender age, being raised by a stern and emotionally distant father. Emotions had been seen as vulnerabilities, a path to pain.
He had mastered the art of guarding his heart, cocooning his feelings behind a protective wall.
His little legs carried him to the man he got to see only a few times a month.
The same man his mother waited for every night.
Every night, she would sing him a song and pat his head as he is lured to sleep. She would take several glances at the clock, sighing periodically but this night was different.
"A-fua, Where is Amma?"
"Trent, she's gone"
His childish brain pondered on where his mother could have gone. She promised that she would always hold his hand and never let go.
Why did she have to break her promise?
Her untimely departure had left a void that he believed could never be filled. He had accepted that void as a part of him, shielding himself from the potential hurt of loving someone deeply.
Trent's hands clenched as he relived the grief, the loneliness.
Growing in the hands of his father, the fortress he had built around his heart, the fear of showing vulnerability, all traced back to that moment.
As the only son of his father, there was no room for weakness.
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