Chapter Seventeen: His Favorite Sound Was Silence
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Kairo stood in the middle of the living room long after Elián left.
The half-eaten apple sat in his palm, like a peace offering he wasn't sure he deserved. The warmth had already faded, but the weight lingered.
He wanted to follow him. Wanted to say more. But this time, he didn't.
He was learning that silence, too, could be love.
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Elián closed the door to his room and pressed his back against it, heart fluttering like a bird in a cage.
Why did it still feel like this?
He hated that Kairo's words could still touch something inside him. That he wanted to believe. That some small, traitorous part of him already did.
He walked over to his desk, turned on his lamp, and sat.
The journal he kept was open—blank page, untouched.
He picked up his pen. Then paused.
There was too much to write. Too much to feel. And all of it too close to the surface.
So instead, he scribbled one sentence at the top of the page.
> "I am not afraid of the thunder anymore."
Then he closed the book.
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Later that evening, Kairo found himself in the study, a glass of untouched whiskey on the table beside him. The room was lit only by the soft golden hue of the lamp, casting long shadows on the bookshelves.
He hadn't touched this space in weeks. Not since Adrian left.
It used to smell like expensive cologne and late-night laughter. Now it smelled like paper, dust, and quiet regret.
He reached for the drawer beneath the old desk and pulled it open.
Inside: a black velvet box. The engagement ring he had once planned to give Adrian. Before he found him in the arms of someone else.
Before everything broke.
He opened the box, stared at the ring, then closed it again.
It was time to stop mourning someone who never stayed.
He didn't hear Elián walk in.
But when he looked up, the boy was standing at the door, arms folded, a distant look in his eyes.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," Elián said softly.
"You didn't," Kairo replied, placing the box back in the drawer and shutting it.
Elián took a slow step in. "That ring… was it for him?"
"Yes," Kairo said honestly. "I kept thinking I'd find a reason to give it to him. But there were always more lies. More excuses."
"And yet you stayed," Elián murmured.
"I thought it was love."
Elián looked at him for a long moment.
"You confuse love with pain."
Kairo smiled without joy. "Maybe I do."
He leaned back in the chair, letting his head fall against the leather headrest. "But when you walked into my life, everything became… different."
"I didn't want it to," Elián admitted. "I just wanted to survive."
Kairo opened his eyes. "And now?"
Elián hesitated. "Now, I want to live."
The words sat between them, gentle and terrifying.
Kairo stood. "Come with me."
Elián frowned. "Where?"
Kairo didn't answer. Just walked past him and toward the front door.
For a second, Elián didn't move.
Then he followed.
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The city lights were dim through the fog, and the street was almost empty. Kairo's driver wasn't called. There was no luxury car tonight.
They walked.
Side by side.
The silence between them no longer felt like distance—it felt like something real. Like air.
They stopped at a narrow park bench, just beside the river. The water moved like liquid silver beneath the cloudy sky.
Kairo sat. Elián followed.
"You used to love the rain," Kairo said, voice quiet.
Elián looked up. "How do you know that?"
"You mentioned it once," Kairo replied. "The first night. When you were crying and trying to pretend you weren't."
Elián's lips parted slightly.
"You said it was the only sound that made you feel safe. That when it rained, people stopped shouting."
Elián looked down at his hands.
"I didn't think you were listening."
"I wasn't," Kairo admitted. "But I remember."
They both sat in silence, the wind brushing gently against them.
After a while, Elián said, "I thought about leaving you."
Kairo didn't react.
"I thought about running away. Disappearing. Taking whatever money I could and vanishing."
"I wouldn't have stopped you."
"That's what scared me," Elián whispered. "I wanted you to care. Even if it was wrong of me."
Kairo looked at him then, and his voice was soft. "I care now."
Elián didn't respond.
Instead, he stood and walked to the railing, facing the river. His hair was blown gently by the wind, eyes fixed on something far beyond the water.
"You scare me sometimes," he said.
"I know."
"But not like before."
Kairo stepped behind him but didn't touch him. "How do I scare you now?"
"You make me want to hope again."
And for once, Kairo didn't try to fix that. He simply stood there, letting the river and the night do the speaking for them both.
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End of Chapter 17
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