Unspoken Words

The winter air was sharp, cutting through Caesar's sweater as he waited outside the school gate. Snowflakes swirled around him, catching in his dark hair and melting on his glasses. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing at the time on his phone.

Blythe was late.

He had gotten used to waiting for her. Sometimes she was caught up in a conversation with her friends, other times she would stop by a store on the way. But today was different—she had texted him earlier, asking him to wait for her.

His fingers curled around the strap of his bag as he watched students file out of the school, their laughter and chatter blending into the cold wind. Zach walked past, hands in his pockets, giving Caesar a quick nod.

"She's probably with her friends," Zach said before disappearing into the crowd.

Caesar didn't answer. He just adjusted his glasses, exhaling into the cold.

A few more minutes passed before he finally spotted Blythe stepping out of the school building. She was alone.

She wore a thick cream-colored coat with a faux fur collar, her platinum blonde hair peeking out from underneath a fluffy beret. Even from a distance, Caesar could see the tension in her shoulders. Her steps were slower than usual, and her usually bright blue eyes were locked onto the snowy pavement.

Something was wrong.

Caesar didn't say anything when she reached him. He just adjusted his glasses and tilted his head, a silent question.

Blythe hesitated, then let out a breath. "Sorry for making you wait."

"You told me to," he reminded her.

She blinked, then let out a small laugh. "Right."

The laugh was empty. Caesar didn't like it.

He waited for her to speak again, but she didn't. Instead, she pulled her coat tighter around her and started walking. Caesar fell into step beside her, watching the way her hands curled into fists inside her coat pockets.

He had known Blythe long enough to recognize when she was holding something back. She had a habit of filling silences with pointless chatter when she was nervous. The fact that she was so quiet now only confirmed his suspicion—whatever was on her mind, it wasn't something she could brush off.

Caesar glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Did something happen?"

Blythe's grip on her coat tightened.

For a moment, it seemed like she wasn't going to answer. Then, finally, she said, "My dad's coming back."

Caesar frowned. "…I thought he lived overseas."

"He does," she murmured. "But he's coming back. Temporarily. For work."

That shouldn't have been bad news. But the way she said it—the way her voice wavered slightly—told him otherwise.

Caesar stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue.

Blythe exhaled sharply, her breath turning to mist in the cold air. "It's just… I haven't seen him in years. And honestly, I don't know if I even want to."

Caesar's hands tensed around the strap of his bag.

He didn't know much about Blythe's father. She rarely talked about him, and when she did, it was never in detail. Caesar had pieced together that her parents had separated a long time ago, and that Blythe had stayed with her mom. But beyond that, she never really mentioned him.

If she was this tense about his return, though, it was clear that their relationship wasn't a good one.

"…You don't have to see him if you don't want to," Caesar said finally.

Blythe laughed again, but this time, it sounded even more bitter than before. "I wish it were that simple. But my mom…" She sighed, kicking at the snow on the sidewalk. "She wants me to at least try. She says it would be good for me."

Caesar frowned. "Is it?"

"I don't know." Her voice was small. "I don't remember him very well. Just… little things. He used to bring me souvenirs when he traveled. He always smelled like cologne and coffee. He had this deep voice that used to make me feel safe."

She shook her head. "But that was a long time ago. People change. I've changed. What if I don't like him anymore? What if he doesn't like me?"

Caesar looked at her, taking in the way her fingers gripped her coat like she was trying to hold herself together.

"…Do you want to like him?" he asked quietly.

Blythe froze mid-step.

The question lingered between them, heavy in the cold air.

"I don't know," she whispered.

Caesar didn't push her for more. Instead, he did what he always did when he didn't know what to say—he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small packet of strawberry candies.

Without a word, he handed one to her.

Blythe stared at the candy for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle. "You always have these, huh?"

He shrugged. "You always eat them."

She took the candy and unwrapped it, popping it into her mouth. They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds being the crunch of snow beneath their shoes and the occasional gust of wind.

Then, after a long pause, Blythe spoke again.

"Thanks."

Caesar glanced at her.

"For waiting," she clarified. "For listening."

Caesar adjusted his glasses. "I'll always wait."

Blythe didn't say anything to that. She just smiled—a small, tired smile—but a real one this time.

And for now, that was enough.