Aurora
Elias didn't come in the next day.
Aurora noticed immediately—his empty seat in the music room was louder than any sound she'd ever heard. The room was filled with chatter, the laughter of students, the playing of instruments, but her eyes kept moving to the dark corner where he always sat.
He wasn't there.
She felt guilty. She'd pushed him away yesterday—so hard. And then Adrian had walked in, shattering the fragile moment between them like a window slammed shut on a blooming flower.
Aurora sat down at the piano, but her fingers were floating uselessly over the keys. Her mind kept replaying Elias's expression before he'd left: a mixture of fear, excitement, and something heartbreaking.
Nothing was happening.
He said it like a confession.
He said it like surrender.
Aurora bit her lip, her eyes dry. She didn't know what hurt more—the fact that Elias believed he wasn't important to him, or the fact that Adrian's sudden appearance had made Elias retreat even further from the shadows he was moving in.
After class, Adrian caught up with her.
"We need to talk," he said.
She didn't want to, but he nodded.
They walked out into the cold air. Adrian shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, jaw raised.
"What was that yesterday?" he asked. "You and Elias—so close. Whispering."
"It's not like that," Aurora said.
"Then what was it?"
Aurora looked away. "He wrote something. Music. And I want to talk to him about it."
Adrian grinned. "Aurora, you know that guy's obsessed with you, right?"
Her heart sank. "Don't say that. Not at all."
"Oh, come on," Adrian hissed. "Anyone with eyes can see it. The way he looks at you? It's pathetic."
Aurora took a step back, anger burning like fire.
"Don't talk to him like that."
Adrian blinked, shocked. "Are you defending him?"
"Yes. Because he's talented, kind, and sensitive. And you're being cruel for no reason."
Adrian's expression darkened. "What's up, Aurora? Do you like him now?"
She didn't answer.
Not because she didn't know—
but because she did.
Elias
He didn't mean to skip school.
But waking up felt like drowning.
Even breathing hurt.
Every time Elias closed his eyes, he saw Aurora's face in the music room—soft, hesitant, filled with something he couldn't believe was hope.
And then Adrian's voice screamed, sharp and accusatory, and he remembered who he was.
Unseen.
Forgettable.
Replaceable.
Elias sat at his piano, fingers resting on the keys but unable to play. It was as if the music had been ripped from him.
His notebook was open in front of him—the page with "The Woman in the Hallway" staring back at him accusingly.
He reached for a pen and wrote three words in the margin:
I should stop.
Stop loving her.
Stop hoping.
Stop hurting.
But as he tried to close the notebook, another thought entered—
If she knew the truth… would she stay?
His heart ached painfully.
No.
No, she wouldn't.
His phone rang.
He ignored it.
But it rang again. And again.
Finally, he looked.
12 missed calls — Aurora
5 new messages — Aurora
2 voice messages — Aurora
His chest was tight.
He opened the first message.
Elias, please, talk to me. I don't want yesterday to end like this.
Are you okay? I'm worried.
Shall we meet? Please?
The last message came next:
"Elias… don't forbid me. What you did for me is not over. What I felt when you did that is not over."
He hung up the phone.
What did she feel?
No—no, there was no way she could say what it meant.
He stood up suddenly, walking. His hands were shaking.
He couldn't face it.
Not the hope.
Not the possibility.
Not the idea that Aurora Hale would feel something real for him.
The doorbell rang.
Elias was stunned.
Then he heard her voice.
Faint, faint, but unmistakable.
"Elias? Are you home yet? Can we talk?"
He was shocked.
Aurora was in his house.
His world spun.
He approached the door, his hand on the handle—and stopped.
What if opening the door ruined everything?
What if facing her would reveal the truth?
What if Adrian was right, and all he felt was pity?
What if what he said was wrong?
What if he lost her completely?
Elias took a step back, his heart breaking in silent, careful cracks.
He couldn't open the door.
Not yet.
Not like this.
After a long moment, Aurora's voice trembled on the other line.
"Elias… I'll wait for you. Until you're ready."
Her footsteps disappeared.
Elias fell to the floor, holding his head.
He didn't know if he would be ready.