🧳 Part I: Packing and Parting
The cabin was quieter than it had been all week. No laughter, no music, just the soft rustle of clothes being folded and zippers being drawn. Eli sat cross-legged on his bed, folding his hoodie with deliberate care, as if the way he packed it might preserve the warmth of the retreat.
Riven moved around the room slowly, gathering his things. Their shoulders brushed occasionally — not by accident. Eli handed him a stray sock, their fingers grazing. Riven didn't pull away.
Neither of them spoke much. They didn't need to. The silence between them was soft now, not heavy. It held the memory of moonlight and stories whispered into fur.
Eli glanced at Riven's duffel. "You forgot your sketchbook."
Riven looked up, surprised. "You noticed?"
"I always notice."
Riven smiled — the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes, but tried.
Outside, the buses were already rumbling. Students shouted goodbyes, teachers herded stragglers. But inside the cabin, time lingered.
Riven sat beside Eli, their knees touching. "Do you think it'll feel different? Back home?"
Eli nodded. "Everything already does."
Riven didn't answer. He just reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind Eli's ear. A gesture so quiet it felt like a promise.
🏫 Part II: School Days
School resumed with its usual rhythm — bells ringing, sneakers squeaking down hallways, the hum of teenage voices rising and falling like waves. But for Eli, everything felt slightly off-axis. Not wrong. Just… different.
He noticed it first in biology class.
He and Riven were paired again, as always. Their desks pushed together, notebooks overlapping. The teacher droned on about cellular respiration, but Eli barely heard her. He was too aware of Riven's presence — the way his arm brushed Eli's when he reached for his pen, the way his breath hitched when their fingers touched passing notes.
They didn't talk about the retreat. Not directly. But something had shifted in the silence between them — a new weight, a new warmth.
Riven leaned in closer than before. Eli didn't move away.
Their conversations were quieter now, more deliberate. Riven's voice had a softness to it, like he was afraid of startling something fragile. Eli found himself watching Riven's hands as he sketched diagrams — long fingers, ink smudged on the side of his palm. He wanted to trace the lines.
PE was a blur of sweat and shouting, but even there, the shift was felt.
Eli jogged around the field, his pace uneven, his breath shallow. He hated running. Always had. But Riven was beside him, not pushing, just matching. Silent. Steady.
When Eli stumbled over a patch of uneven grass, Riven caught him — one arm around his waist, the other gripping his wrist. Eli's heart thudded, not from the fall, but from the closeness.
"You okay?" Riven asked, voice low, eyes searching.
Eli nodded, trying to ignore the heat rising in his chest. "Yeah. Just... tired."
Riven didn't let go right away. His hand lingered at Eli's side, grounding him. Eli didn't mind.
🍽 Lunch: The Soft Withdrawal
Lunch used to be loud — Kael's voice rising above the chatter, his jokes flying fast, his fingers always reaching for Eli's fries. But lately, something had shifted.
He still sat beside Eli, still dropped his tray with dramatic flair. But his jokes were gentler now, his laughter quieter. He didn't lean in as much. Didn't touch Eli's wrist when he talked.
He watched instead.
Watched the way Eli's gaze drifted to Riven without meaning to. Watched the way Riven looked at Eli like he was something sacred. Watched the silence between them — not awkward, but intimate, like a language only they spoke.
Kael didn't say anything. He just smiled, a little sad, a little fond.
"You two are disgusting," he said one day, stealing a fry with less enthusiasm than usual. "All that eye contact. It's like watching a slow-motion romance film."
Eli flushed. Riven didn't look away.
Kael didn't push. He just leaned back, chewing thoughtfully. "I get it, though," he said softly. "He sees you."
Eli blinked. "Kael…"
Kael waved him off. "It's fine. I'm not heartbroken. Just… nostalgic."
He still joined them at lunch. Still cracked jokes. But he no longer tried to wedge himself between them. He knew he didn't stand a chance — not against whatever it was that had grown between Eli and Riven. Something quiet. Something real.
And maybe, deep down, Kael was glad Eli had found it.