Keifer realized it slowly.
Not in one moment.
Not with a confession.
But in the way Ivy looked at him when she thought he wasn't watching.
They were in the common room, late evening, the house unusually calm. Ivy sat across from him, pretending to read, eyes lifting every few seconds.
Each time he met her gaze, she smiled.
Not playful.
Not casual.
Hopeful.
It made him uneasy.
"Did you need something?" he asked gently.
Ivy shook her head too quickly. "No—no, I'm good."
But she didn't go back to reading.
She watched him instead.
Keifer shifted, uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't explain. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He hadn't led her on.
Had he?
A few days later, it happened again.
A lingering smile in the hallway.
A pause when their hands brushed.
A softness in her voice that hadn't been there before.
And suddenly, everything clicked.
Not like thunder.
Like gravity.
She likes me.
The realization settled in his chest, heavy and undeniable.
That evening, he found Jay in the kitchen, perched on the counter, stealing pieces of fruit.
"You ever notice," he said carefully, "when someone feels more than they say?"
Jay froze for half a second.
Then smiled casually. "All the time."
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "I think Ivy… cares about me."
Jay's fingers tightened around the apple.
"I think she has for a while," he added quietly.
Jay nodded. "Yeah."
He studied her face. "You knew."
She didn't deny it. "She told me."
Keifer exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "I never meant to give her the wrong idea."
Jay's heart skipped—but she stayed silent.
"But somewhere along the way," he continued, voice low,
"it happened anyway."
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
"I didn't notice. Or maybe I didn't want to notice. And now she feels something I can't return."
Jay swallowed. "And now?"
He looked at her, eyes tired. Honest.
"And now I can't do anything about it," he said quietly.
"I can't change what she feels. And I can't pretend it isn't there."
Silence stretched between them.
"I never wanted to hurt anyone," he added.
"Especially not her."
Jay nodded slowly, chest tight.
"I just wanted you to know," he said, softer now.
"No secrets. No misunderstandings."
She looked at him, searching his face.
"Thank you for telling me," she said gently.
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Keifer leaned back slightly, staring ahead.
Jay stayed beside him.
Close.
Quiet.
Steady.
And though nothing had been said aloud—
Both of them felt it.
Something delicate had shifted.
Not into clarity.
But into truth.