The house had a sound of its own.
Ethan noticed it after a few days—the way the floor creaked near the stairs, how the clock in the living room ticked just a little too loudly at night, and how silence seemed heavier when Mark wasn't home.
That evening, Mark hadn't returned yet.
Ethan came back from college earlier than usual, his mind tired but restless. He dropped his bag near the couch and headed toward the kitchen, mostly out of habit.
Lily was there.
She stood by the stove, stirring something slowly, lost in thought. The sleeves of her sweater were pushed up, and a loose strand of hair kept falling across her face.
She didn't notice him at first.
"Smells good," Ethan said softly.
She turned, startled for a second, then smiled.
"Oh—hi. You're back early today."
"Yeah. Professor canceled the last class."
"That's rare," she said, amused. "Sit. Dinner will be ready soon."
He nodded and sat at the small dining table.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The only sounds were the gentle clink of the spoon against the pot and the faint noise of traffic outside. It should have been awkward, but somehow it wasn't.
"So…" Lily said after a moment, without turning around.
"How's college treating you?"
"It's fine," Ethan replied. "Busy. A bit overwhelming."
"That's normal," she said. "First year always feels like that."
He hesitated. "You… you've been to college?"
She paused, just briefly.
"Yes," she said. "Long time ago."
Something in her tone made him curious, but he didn't ask more. He was learning that Lily's silences mattered just as much as her words.
She brought the plates over and set one in front of him.
"Eat while it's hot."
"Thank you."
Their fingers brushed again when she placed the glass of water near him.
This time, neither of them apologized.
Later that night, the power went out.
It happened suddenly—one second the lights were on, the next the house was wrapped in darkness.
"Oh great," Lily muttered from the hallway.
Ethan grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight.
"Power cuts happen often?"
"More than they should," she replied. "There are candles in the drawer."
They found themselves standing close in the living room, the soft glow of candlelight flickering across the walls. Shadows danced around them, making the space feel smaller… more intimate.
Mark still wasn't home.
Lily sat on the couch, hugging a cushion to her chest. Ethan hesitated, then sat on the armchair across from her.
"Does it bother you?" he asked.
She looked up. "What?"
"Being alone when the power goes out."
She thought about it. Then nodded.
"Sometimes."
The honesty surprised him.
She exhaled slowly. "It's funny. You can be surrounded by people all day… and still feel lonely when things get quiet."
Ethan leaned forward slightly.
"I know that feeling."
She looked at him then—not as Mark's student, not as someone passing through—but just as Ethan.
"You do?"
He nodded. "Back home, everyone expected things from me. Here… I thought it would be different."
"And is it?"
"I don't know yet."
Lily smiled faintly. "Life rarely changes overnight."
The candle flickered, and for a second, Ethan thought about how close they were. How easily he could reach out. How wrong that thought felt.
He shifted back, clearing his throat.
"You should probably go to sleep," he said. "You look tired."
She laughed softly. "You sound older than you are."
"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe I'm just trying to be responsible."
Her smile softened.
"That's a good quality," she said quietly.
When Ethan finally went to his room, sleep didn't come easily.
He lay there, staring at the ceiling, replaying the evening in his head. The way Lily's voice sounded softer in the dark. The way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't watching.
Nothing had happened.
And yet, everything felt different.
Across the hallway, Lily stood by her bedroom door for a long moment after he disappeared into his room.
She rested her hand against the wood, her expression unreadable.
This was dangerous.
She knew it.
But for the first time in a long while, the house didn't feel empty.
And that scared her more than the silence ever had.
End of Chapter 2