There were things Alexander never said out loud.
Not because he didn't feel them, but because putting them into words made them… fragile. Open to misunderstanding. Or worse—real.
But the more time he spent around Elena, the harder it became to sit in that silence. Not because she asked anything of him—she didn't. But because her presence was beginning to carve space in his life that no one else had ever managed to touch.
Not Naomi. Not Diego. Not even his old high school friends.
Her.
It wasn't loud.It wasn't fireworks.
It was quiet intrusion.Like sunlight through a window he hadn't realized was cracked open.
And now he couldn't stop noticing it.
The way she looked when she was trying to be strong—chin up, voice light—but her eyes gave her away.
The way she always seemed to notice him, even when she pretended not to.
The way she never flinched at his silences or tried to fill them with noise.
It unnerved him. Not because it felt wrong—but because it felt real. Unmistakably, overwhelmingly real.
He didn't text her the next morning.
He called.
"Hey," she answered, sounding a little breathless, like she'd just gotten out of the shower.
"Hey," he replied. His voice was low, calm—but a little more sure than usual. "You free later?"
There was a pause.
"I think so. What's up?"
"Thinking of grabbing something to eat. Nothing fancy. You in?"
He could hear her smile through the line. "You asking me out, Alex?"
"Maybe," he said, almost smirking. "But only if you say yes."
There was a beat of silence.
Then: "I'd like that."
They ended up at a small corner place a few blocks from campus—half-diner, half-bodega, the kind of place you only knew about if you'd lived here long enough to stop using Yelp.
They ordered and sat in a booth near the window. She got some oddly customized salad he couldn't pronounce. He stuck to his usual—burger, no frills.
At first, they talked about easy things—class, music, how Naomi was threatening to burn her Civic in a ritual sacrifice if it died again.
But then Elena tilted her head and said, "You're different today."
He arched a brow. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "Less… guarded."
He shrugged, chewing slowly. "Maybe I just got tired of standing behind the fence."
She didn't press it. Just reached out and stole one of his fries.
And it made him stupidly happy.
Afterward, instead of dropping her back, he asked, "You busy now?"
Elena shook her head. "Not really."
He didn't explain.
Just drove.
They pulled up in front of an industrial garage just off the highway. The place looked plain from the outside—half of the sign was missing—but music filtered out through the open bay doors, and a massive dog lay sunbathing on the warm concrete.
"This is Diego's place," Alexander said as he got out, nodding toward the dog. "That's Mila. She won't bite unless you insult the WRX."
Elena laughed, crouching to pet her. "She's beautiful."
"So is the shop," he said quietly, watching her.
Inside, the air smelled like motor oil, brake dust, and lemon cleaning spray. A BMW M5 sat gleaming in one bay, hood up. Black with carbon fiber accents. The real deal.
He caught the way her eyes widened.
"Wait, this is your other car?"
"Yeah. She doesn't get driven unless it's a good day."
"And today's a good day?"
Alexander looked at her. Really looked.
"You're here, aren't you?"
She blinked. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something—but nothing came out.
Instead, he tossed her the keys.
"Wanna ride shotgun?"
They drove for an hour.
Nowhere in particular.
Windows down. Music up. Her laughter filling the cabin whenever he hit a turn too fast and she called him dramatic.
He didn't reach for her hand.He didn't say anything profound.
But when she looked over at him—really looked—he could tell something in her eyes had softened.
And he felt it, too.
That low, warm, humming pull.Not desire.Not infatuation.
Something else.
Something like recognition.
And for the first time in a long time, Alexander didn't try to silence the feeling.
He let it exist.
Right there beside her.
As natural as breathing.