CHAPTER -13: The Weight of Quiet

The library was silent except for the hum of old lights.

Ayan sat in the farthest corner, earbuds in, pen gliding across paper in clean, measured strokes. His fortress of order.

But it wasn't working tonight.

Not with that feeling crawling along his spine.

He didn't look up right away. He didn't have to.

He knew who it was.

When his eyes finally flicked upward, they met Kairo's—three tables away, leaning back in his chair, arms folded loosely. No grin this time. No chatter.

Just eyes. Steady. Unwavering.

Ayan dropped his gaze before it could feel like a defeat.

But the silence pressed heavier with every breath.

He hated that it felt louder than any of Kairo's teasing.

Minutes passed. Pages turned.

And still—

That presence didn't move. Didn't speak.

Until Ayan's patience cracked like ice under strain.

He closed his notebook with a snap and stood, voice low, lethal.

> "If you're trying to annoy me, congratulations. You've succeeded."

Kairo tilted his head slightly, like he was studying something rare. His reply came soft, unhurried.

> "Not trying to annoy you."

A beat.

Then, without breaking eye contact—

> "Just wondering how long you can pretend I'm not here."

Ayan froze for half a breath, then masked it with a bitter curl of his lips.

> "Try forever."

He turned and walked away before the weight in his chest could betray him.

Kairo didn't follow.

Didn't call after him.

But as Ayan's footsteps faded, Kairo let out a slow breath, his gaze fixed on the empty chair like it still held a secret.

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