Amara POV
The sun was too bright for the heaviness in Amara's chest. It painted the courtyard in golden warmth, made laughter ring louder, made the breeze feel almost playful. But none of it reached her. Not when Adrian was walking just a few steps ahead, his shoulders squared, his pace clipped as though the very air around him was something he needed to escape.
Amara quickened her stride.
"Adrian!" she called, weaving through clusters of students until she caught up to him.
He slowed just enough to let her fall into step beside him, though he didn't look at her. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the path ahead.
For a moment, she told herself to keep it light. Casual. Maybe if she didn't push, he would relax.
"So," she began, her tone as bright as she could manage, "skipping out on free lunch? That's rare."
He huffed a quiet sound that might have been a laugh, though it carried no humor. "Not in the mood."
"You're never in the mood," she teased gently, bumping her shoulder against his. "One of these days, I'm going to make you admit you actually like being around people."
That earned her a glance, fleeting but real. His lips twitched, as though fighting a smile, but then the shutters came down again.
"I doubt it," he said flatly.
Amara's heart sank, but she kept pace with him. She wasn't ready to let this silence win.
"Emily's really happy to be discharged," she tried again. "She was so nervous yesterday. I think lunch would have been good for her. For all of us, really."
He gave a short nod. "Yeah."
Just that. Nothing more.
It was like talking to a wall....one that responded just enough to prove it was listening, but never opened a door.
Frustration prickled beneath her skin. She swallowed it, tried again. "You've been quiet lately. Quieter than usual, I mean."
His jaw tightened, and he adjusted the strap of his bag. "I've been busy."
"Busy?" she echoed, disbelief lacing her tone. "You mean in the last twelve hours since we left the hospital?"
That made him falter, just slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Amara…" He exhaled, his voice low, tired. "Don't."
She stopped in her tracks. The word cut sharper than he probably intended, but it landed all the same.
"Don't what?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her attempt to keep it steady.
He turned then, finally meeting her gaze. His eyes were conflicted, stormy, but his words were cool. "Don't press. Not everything needs to be talked about."
Her chest tightened. "I'm not pressing, Adrian. I'm asking. Because I care. Because I see you pulling away, and I don't understand why."
His silence was louder than anything else he could have said. He just stood there, staring at her with that guarded expression, as if letting her in would cost him more than he could afford.
The frustration inside her boiled over.
"Do you even realize how confusing this is for me?" she demanded, her voice rising despite the people passing by. "One moment, you're there....comforting me in the storm, giving me your hoodie, calling the hospital director like it was nothing. You make me feel like I can lean on you, like I matter. And then the next moment, you shut me out completely, like none of it ever happened."
He flinched, just barely, but didn't move, didn't speak.
Her throat tightened, but the words spilled out anyway. "I don't need you to tell me everything, Adrian. I don't need you to hand me all your secrets. I just…" She shook her head, her voice cracking. "I just need to know if I'm crossing a line here. If I'm… if I'm overstepping my boundaries."
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Adrian's lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to speak, but no words came. His hands clenched at his sides, his expression unreadable.
Amara waited, hope and dread warring inside her. When nothing came...no reassurance, no explanation, not even denial...the ache in her chest deepened into something heavier.
"Right," she whispered, her tone laced with sadness. "Got it."
She turned before he could see the tears threatening to gather in her eyes, her steps quick as she walked away, weaving back into the crowd.
Behind her, Adrian stood frozen, guilt clawing at him, but she didn't look back.
For Amara, the brightness of the day had dimmed into something hollow.
And for Adrian, the weight of his silence had never felt heavier.