Ch. 5: The Space Between

Kael slammed the door shut with more force than necessary, dropping his bag in the hallway and toeing off his shoes with a groan.

"Fucking finally," he muttered, stretching his arms overhead.

Classes were exhausting. The people were nice, sure—but being "the new guy" in every conversation, every glance, every smile was draining. He could feel eyes on him all day, like he was under some kind of unspoken test.

And Riven? The guy hadn't said more than three words since yesterday.

As Kael passed the living room, he paused.

Riven was there—sitting on the couch, legs stretched out, earbuds out for once. The TV played some low-budget movie without sound. He wasn't watching it. Just... staring.

Kael leaned against the wall. "That's not creepy at all."

Riven didn't even blink. "What?"

"You watching a muted movie while pretending to be human."

Riven slowly turned his head toward him. "You always this annoying after school?"

"Only when I'm ignored like a ghost in my own damn house."

Riven scoffed, standing up. "Then don't expect special treatment just 'cause you're new."

Kael's mouth tightened. "I don't want special treatment. I just don't want to live with someone who acts like I killed his dog every time I breathe too loud."

"Maybe stop talking, then," Riven shot back.

Kael stepped forward, anger rising in his chest. "What the hell is your problem, huh? We share a room, a house, and now a school—and you act like I'm a goddamn disease."

Riven's eyes narrowed. "Because you're loud. You act like you own every space you walk into. You ask questions you don't deserve answers to."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kael snapped. "I didn't realize I needed a damn permission slip just to exist next to you."

"You don't understand anything about me," Riven said, his voice lower now, like a warning.

Kael stared at him for a long moment, fists clenched. Then, softer but no less frustrated: "Then let me."

Riven flinched.

"I don't want to fight with you," Kael said, voice raw. "I didn't ask for this arrangement, but I'm here now. And I'm tired of feeling like I'm walking on eggshells."

Silence stretched. Riven looked away, jaw clenched.

Kael sighed and dropped into the armchair across the room, running a hand through his hair. "God, you piss me off."

"I get that a lot," Riven muttered.

Kael leaned back. "Yeah, well. You're not as scary as you think."

Riven sat back down on the couch, elbows on his knees. "That's because you haven't seen me angry yet."

Kael snorted. "This isn't you angry?"

That earned him a ghost of a smirk from Riven—a flicker, quickly gone.

"Seriously though," Kael said after a while, quieter now, "what happened last year?"

Riven looked up.

"At school. People talk. The fighting, the rumors. What's real?"

Riven's gaze drifted to the TV screen. "Does it matter?"

"It does if I'm living with you. If I'm trusting you."

That word seemed to hang in the air—trust.

Riven leaned back, fingers laced together. "It's not a story I like telling."

"I'm not asking for your secrets. I just… don't want to keep guessing."

There was a beat of silence. Then Riven muttered, "There was this guy. A senior. He was bullying a freshman—badly. I told him to stop. He told me to fuck off."

Kael watched quietly.

"One day I walked into the hallway and saw him cornering the kid, dragging him by the collar. Something just… snapped."

"You hit him?"

"I broke his nose. Threw a chair. Lost it completely. I almost got expelled."

Kael whistled low. "Shit."

"I don't regret defending that kid," Riven added. "But I do regret not controlling myself."

Kael nodded slowly. "Okay. Thanks for telling me."

"Didn't say it for your approval."

"No," Kael said, standing up. "But I'm still glad you said it."

He started walking away, then paused. "Hey, do you—do you ever feel like no matter what you do, people just decide who you are for you?"

Riven didn't answer right away. When Kael turned to look, he saw the answer in Riven's eyes before the words came.

"Every day."

Kael nodded and offered a small, tired smile. "Same."

Later that night, when Kael climbed into bed and curled under his blanket, he stared at the ceiling in the dark.

"Thanks," he whispered, unsure if Riven could hear him.

From the top bunk, a quiet voice answered.

"For what?"

"For not kicking me out."

Riven exhaled slowly. "I considered it."

Kael laughed softly into his pillow. "Yeah. I believe you."

And in the dark—just beneath the same ceiling, within the same four walls—something loosened.

They weren't friends yet.

But the distance between them wasn't as cold as it had been.

And maybe, just maybe, the silence didn't feel quite so lonely anymore.