The days that followed were quietly magical—almost too magical.
They didn't make it official. No labels. No promises.
But the way Riven reached for Eli's hand when they were alone, the way Eli leaned into Riven's shoulder during quiet nights in the library, the way they looked at each other like they were discovering something sacred—it was obvious. They were becoming something real.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't posted on stories or shared in group chats.
It just… was.
But reality, like a tide, always returns.
And on a Friday evening, it did.
---
Eli waited outside Riven's university building. His sketchpad was open on his lap, but he hadn't drawn anything in the last thirty minutes. He was too busy watching the students pouring out of the med department—laughing, loud, alive.
He didn't belong here.
He knew that.
Then, like gravity, his eyes found him.
Riven.
Handsome even in exhaustion, his white coat draped over one arm, headphones slung around his neck. He was surrounded by classmates—tall, confident boys and elegant girls. He laughed at something someone said, but Eli saw it—the glance Riven threw his way, quick and careful.
The smile faltered.
Then, Riven turned back to the group and said something.
They nodded, waved him off.
Only then did he approach Eli.
"You waited long?" Riven asked, brushing his hair back.
Eli smiled faintly. "Not really."
Riven looked tired—more than usual.
"You okay?" Eli asked.
Riven gave a short nod, then looked around. "Let's go somewhere quiet?"
Eli didn't question it.
They ended up in the old rooftop garden of Riven's building. No one really went there anymore—it was mostly abandoned benches and overgrown vines. But it had a view of the city, and right now, they needed air.
They sat down, silence stretching between them.
Riven leaned back against the bench, eyes closed.
"Hard day?" Eli asked.
"I almost failed a quiz," Riven muttered. "Because I stayed up too late reading your messages."
Eli chuckled softly.
"But that's not the worst part," Riven added. "The worst part is… I didn't care."
Eli looked at him. "Why's that bad?"
"Because I'm not supposed to be like this," Riven said, opening his eyes. "I'm supposed to stay focused. Controlled. But every time I think about you, I lose track of everything else."
Eli's heart twisted. "Is that… a bad thing?"
Riven was quiet.
Then he said, "Sometimes I wonder if I can afford to fall in love with someone like you."
Eli froze.
It wasn't cruel. Riven's voice was soft—pained. But the words stung all the same.
"Someone like me?" Eli echoed.
"I mean… someone who makes me want to stop pretending."
Eli swallowed.
"You don't have to pretend with me."
"I know," Riven said. "That's what scares me."
The words sat heavy between them.
Eli looked down at his hands. "I don't want to be something you regret."
"You won't be," Riven whispered. "But what if I ruin this? What if I ruin you?"
Eli met his eyes. "I've already been broken, Riven. A long time ago. But you… you don't ruin me. You remind me what it feels like to want again."
Riven blinked. His fingers reached out, took Eli's hand.
"I'm scared of how much I like you," he admitted.
"I'm scared too," Eli said.
They sat like that for a long time, holding hands in the quiet wind.
Below them, the city buzzed—busy, loud, uncaring.
Up here, it was different.
Up here, they were safe.
For now.
---
That night, Riven didn't let Eli go straight home. He brought him to his condo, a sleek one-bedroom unit paid for by his father—cold, modern, expensive. But when Eli walked in, he noticed the little things. A stack of poetry books by the bedside. A photo of Riven and his sister. A single coffee mug with a cartoon shark on it.
"Don't judge me," Riven muttered, catching Eli staring at the mug.
Eli smiled. "It's cute."
"You're cute," Riven said without thinking.
They froze. Then both laughed awkwardly.
Dinner was microwaved ramen and leftover pastries. They sat on the couch, knees brushing. A movie played in the background, but neither of them paid much attention.
Riven looked at Eli. "Stay the night."
Eli stiffened. "Riven…"
"I won't touch you. I just… I don't want to be alone tonight."
Eli nodded.
Later, they lay side by side on the bed—fully clothed, with a respectful distance between them.
Riven turned toward him.
"Can I hold you?"
Eli hesitated. Then moved closer, tucking himself under Riven's arm, resting his head on his chest. He could hear his heartbeat—fast, steady.
"Is this okay?" Riven asked.
Eli nodded against his shirt.
"More than okay."
Riven's hand gently traced circles on Eli's shoulder.
"Promise me something," Eli whispered.
"What?"
"If one day you stop wanting this—stop wanting me—just tell me. Don't disappear."
Riven tightened his hold. "I won't. I promise."
Eli closed his eyes.
But deep inside, something in him stirred. A quiet doubt. A soft ache.
Because promises are easy in the dark.
It's the morning that makes them hard to keep.
---
Interlude: If I Say It Out Loud
Riven's POV
Everyone thinks I have it figured out.
They see the grades, the clean white coat, the way I answer confidently in class, how I carry my name like it's a sword and a shield. Riven Castillo—the top med student, half-Korean, son of a respected surgeon, always a plan, always in control.
What they don't know is how carefully I've built the walls.
What they don't see is how one boy with ink-stained fingers and eyes that look like rainy skies made all of that start to fall apart.
---
The first time I saw him, I thought, damn, he's too quiet for this world.
Eli Navarro didn't try to get noticed. He looked like he wanted to disappear into the back corner of the coffee shop. Hoodie up, fingers fidgeting, sketchpad clutched like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
But then he looked up—and I swear to God, the world shifted a little.
He didn't smile. He didn't flinch. He just saw me.
Really saw me.
And for someone like me—someone who's been surrounded by noise, pressure, expectations my whole life—that kind of silence was deafening. And addicting.
So I sat down.
And I asked for his name.
And the wall cracked.
---
I didn't mean to fall for him.
Hell, I tried not to.
I told myself it was just curiosity. That I was only intrigued by how different he was. That maybe I just wanted to protect him. That maybe I was lonely and he happened to be kind.
But none of that explained why I kept re-reading his messages at 3 a.m.
Why I found myself sketching his name in the margins of my anatomy notes.
Why my chest hurt every time he smiled at someone else.
Why I kissed him like the world would end if I didn't.
I'm not supposed to be like this.
My father would lose it if he found out.
My classmates would whisper.
My future would crack in ways I can't afford.
But when I'm with him, I don't care.
I care about him.
His little laughs when he's nervous.
His way of zoning out mid-sentence when he's thinking about art.
How he says my name like it's not just a label, but a home.
---
And yet… I'm afraid.
Not of being with him.
But of what comes next.
Because I know myself. I know the parts of me that shut down when people get too close. I know the fear that creeps in when things start to feel too good.
And I look at Eli and think:
If I ruin this—if I hurt him—I won't be able to forgive myself.
Because he's not like the others.
He's not just someone I can love and leave.
He's the one who saw me before I let him in.
He's the one who makes silence feel safe.
He's the one I want to say "I love you" to—but I haven't, not yet. Because if I say it out loud, it becomes real.
And if it's real, it can break.
---
Still, every time he looks at me like I'm worth something...
Every time he smiles when I walk into the room...
Every time he lets me hold him like I'm not a mistake...
I think:
Maybe this time… I won't run.
Maybe this time, I'll stay.
Even if I'm scared.
Even if the world finds out.
Because this?
He—
Eli Navarro...
He might be the one thing I didn't know I needed until I couldn't let go.
---
Interlude: I Was Always the One Left Behind
Eli's POV
I've always been good at being invisible.
I learned early on that the world is gentler to those who don't ask for much.
So I didn't.
I kept my voice low.
My shoulders small.
My hopes folded neatly under my pillow where no one could see them.
I learned to find comfort in silence—because it didn't lie.
It didn't walk away.
But then Riven Castillo walked into my life like a storm dressed in pressed uniforms and unreadable eyes.
And suddenly, silence didn't feel like comfort anymore.
It felt like fear.
---
He was the kind of person you don't expect to notice you.
Smart. Sharp. Confident in ways I could only dream of being. A little cold, but not unkind.
I thought he'd look past me, like everyone else.
But he didn't.
He looked through me—into me.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Because if someone sees you that clearly, they can also see the cracks.
And I have a lot of cracks.
---
Falling for Riven wasn't a decision.
It was a slow undoing.
The first time he made me laugh when I was on the verge of breaking.
The way he'd pretend not to care, then show up exactly when I needed someone most.
The way his voice softened only when he said my name.
And when he kissed me?
It felt like gravity flipped inside my chest.
I wasn't ready.
But I didn't stop him.
Because for the first time, I didn't want to be invisible.
I wanted to be his.
---
But there's something people don't understand about someone like me—someone who's been left one too many times:
We don't fall in love easily.
We fall quietly.
Cautiously.
We wait for the moment everything goes wrong.
Because it always does.
That's why, when Riven hesitates...
When he looks at me like I might be too much…
When he pulls away before saying what he really feels…
I understand.
I don't blame him.
But it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
---
There are moments—small, fleeting—where he holds me like I'm something sacred. Like I'm not a mistake he made in a moment of weakness. Like I'm wanted.
And I hold on to those moments like lifelines.
Because they remind me:
I'm not broken beyond love.
Even if he never says the words, even if he doesn't stay, I'll remember this feeling.
The way he looks at me when he thinks I'm not watching.
The warmth of his hand in mine on cold rooftops.
The promise in his silence, even when it scares him.
Because maybe—just maybe—I don't have to be invisible anymore.
Not with him.
Not with Riven.