The following day, the sun came out like nothing had happened.
The streets of campus were finally dry, the air warmer than usual, and students were back to their usual hustle — laughter, rushed footsteps, and hurried conversations about midterms and deadlines.
But Kyle Navarro moved through it all like a ghost.
He was there, physically. In class. At his drafting table. Walking across the courtyard with his sketchpad hugged tightly to his chest.
But mentally?
He was still stuck under that tree.
With Alex.
With the words he shouldn't have heard and the feelings he shouldn't still be holding on to.
---
He didn't expect Alex to show up in class again.
But of course, he did.
It was Thursday, their shared elective — Visual Theory — and the one day of the week they were actually supposed to be in the same room. Kyle had thought maybe Alex wouldn't come, maybe he'd take the hint. Maybe he'd leave Kyle alone long enough for him to breathe.
But there he was. Standing in the doorway.
Looking right at him.
Kyle lowered his head immediately, pretending to take notes even though the professor hadn't started.
He heard the footsteps before he saw them.
Then Alex sat beside him — like always. Like nothing was breaking.
"I didn't mean to confuse you," Alex whispered as the room filled with chatter.
Kyle didn't look up. "Then stop."
Alex leaned closer. "I'm trying to be honest."
"That's the problem," Kyle snapped under his breath. "You say things like they mean something… and then you walk away."
"I walked away?" Alex asked, confused. "You're the one who left."
Kyle turned to him sharply. "Because I don't know what I am to you anymore."
Alex blinked. "You're my best friend."
"That's not enough!" Kyle said before he could stop himself.
The silence between them hit harder than the words.
The professor walked in, and the lesson began, but Kyle couldn't hear a single thing. His heart was too loud. His anger was too sharp.
He hadn't meant to say it — not like that.
But it was true. And he couldn't take it back.
---
After class, Kyle packed his things in silence. He stood quickly and walked out before Alex could stop him.
But the moment he stepped into the hallway, he felt someone grab his wrist.
He turned, startled, and there was Alex — eyes stormy, chest rising fast.
"Kyle, wait."
Kyle yanked his hand back. "What do you want from me?"
Alex's mouth opened, then closed. He didn't seem to know.
"Do you want me to confess? Do you want me to say it out loud? That I love you? That I've loved you since we were sixteen?!" Kyle said, voice cracking.
People walking past started to glance their way.
Kyle stepped back, eyes stinging.
"Because I won't," he said, quieter now. "Not if you're just going to leave again."
Alex stepped forward, his voice strained. "You think I want to leave? I don't even know what I'm doing right now, Kyle. I don't know how to handle this."
"You don't have to handle it," Kyle said. "You just have to be honest."
Alex stared at him for a long, breathless moment.
And then, he whispered, "I'm scared."
Kyle's heart thudded.
"I've never felt this before," Alex continued, softer. "I don't even know if it's real or if I'm just… broken after Chelsea. But when I'm around you, everything feels different. Safer. Warmer. Like I'm home."
Kyle's chest tightened.
Alex looked away. "But I don't want to hurt you."
"You already are," Kyle whispered.
A long silence stretched between them.
Then Alex said quietly, "Can we just… slow down?"
Kyle hesitated.
"Slow down," he repeated, "but don't walk away."
Kyle looked at him for a long time, his heart torn between wanting to protect himself… and wanting to believe.
"Okay," he said finally. "But you don't get to run when things get hard."
Alex nodded slowly. "Deal."
And then — like a habit he couldn't break — he reached out and brushed Kyle's knuckles gently.
It was a touch that didn't belong to friends.
And Kyle let it linger.
---
That night, Kyle lay in bed staring at the ceiling again.
But this time, it wasn't grief sitting in his chest.
It was confusion. Hope. Pain. All tangled in one.
He looked at his phone. No message from Alex.
But he didn't need one tonight.
Because that touch… that look…
It said enough.
---