Raze sat on the edge of his bed.
Morning light cut across the floor.
He hadn't told anyone.
Not about the bench, nor the streetlight, nor about Sable.
His phone was in his hand.
Rax's contact open.
He could type it easily.
"Ran into your transfer."
Too casual, too suspicious.
He sighed and locked the screen.
She probably wouldn't want him to mention it.
She hadn't explained why she was there.
Hadn't justified it.
She didn't seem like someone who wanted attention drawn to her movements.
Still—
The thought lingered.
Why was she out that late?
Alone.
He rubbed a hand down his face.
He knew that look.
The restless one.
The one that couldn't stay inside.
The one that needed air because your head wouldn't quiet down.
She reminded him of himself at sixteen.
Unpredictable.
Drifting toward edges without admitting it.
"…Not my place," he muttered.
He put the phone down.
Didn't send anything.
But the concern didn't leave.
-
Sable unlocked the door quietly.
The house was dark.
Her father's bedroom light was off.
As always.
He never waited up.
Never asked where she'd been.
He trusted that she would come back.
Or perhaps—
He simply assumed she would.
She slipped off her shoes silently.
Moved upstairs.
Her room was exactly how she left it.
Minimal.
Desk.
Bed.
Gaming setup.
One lamp.
Closet door slightly ajar.
Inside the closet—
Boxes.
Still unpacked.
Some labeled.
Some not.
Temporary.
Always temporary.
She never fully settled.
There was no point.
She changed into something softer.
Folded her clothes neatly.
Sat at her desk for a moment.
Her monitor flickered on briefly.
EGO login screen.
She didn't enter.
Instead, she watched the idle animation.
Pulse and Echo drifting across the interface.
Orange and blue.
She lay down eventually.
Room dark except for faint city light slipping through the blinds.
Her father's "work" meant relocations.
New schools, new evaluations.
Never attachments.
Never unnecessary variables.
Yet—
Her thoughts drifted.
Not to the streetlight.
Not to Raze.
To him.
Xar.
Raxian.
The way he reacts before calculating.
The way he corrects faster than most.
The way his pulse flares gold before stabilizing.
She turned onto her side.
Why him?
She rarely allowed interest to root.
Interest meant investment.
Investment meant variables.
Variables meant risk.
But Xar—
No.
Raxian—
He wasn't average.
He wasn't controlled either.
He was volatile potential.
And that intrigued her more than any clean, stable Challenger ever had.
Her fingers tightened slightly against the blanket.
"I don't invest in things that don't matter."
She'd said that.
It was true.
Which meant—
He mattered.
That realization unsettled her more than she expected.
Outside, the city hummed faintly.
Inside, her room remained bare.
Temporary.
Always temporary.
But for the first time in a long while—
She wondered what staying would feel like.
Her eyes closed slowly.
And somewhere in the quiet space between thought and sleep—
Gold flickered faintly in her mind.