Kai stared at his phone long after the call ended.
The room was dark except for the glow of the screen, her name still sitting there like it belonged. He didn't move right away. Didn't rush to put the phone down. He let the moment settle.
He hadn't expected her to call.But he'd hoped.
Kai lay back on his bed, one arm tucked behind his head, listening to the quiet of his house. It felt louder without her nearby—school hallways, empty sidewalks, the long walks that used to pass quickly now dragging on.
He wasn't restless.
Just aware.
Velithra had a way of doing that—of making things sharper, more intentional. Like life had slowed down enough for him to actually notice it.
He thought about the way she'd said she just wanted to hear his voice.
The thought stayed with him.
Kai wasn't someone who let people in easily. He'd learned early how to keep parts of himself locked away, how to be present without being seen. But with her, it felt different.
Not dangerous.
Just… honest.
He rolled onto his side, phone still in his hand, resisting the urge to text her again just to say something unnecessary. He didn't want to overwhelm her. He wanted to be steady.
I'll be here, he reminded himself.That's enough.
The next few days followed a quiet rhythm.
School without Velithra felt off-balance. Kai caught himself glancing to the seat beside him, half-expecting her to be there. He walked their usual route alone, hands in his pockets, replaying conversations in his head instead of rushing through them.
They texted every day.
Nothing dramatic.
Just check-ins.Little updates.Comfort.
And every night, before he went to sleep, Kai found himself counting—not the days she was gone, but the days until she came back.
Not because he needed her.
But because he wanted her there.
One evening, his phone buzzed again.
Velithra:I keep seeing things I want to show you.
Kai smiled to himself.
Kai:Save them.
Velithra:For when I'm back?
Kai:Yeah.
A pause.
Velithra:Okay. I like that.
Kai set the phone down, staring up at the ceiling.
So did he.
Waiting didn't feel empty anymore.
It felt like holding space for something that mattered.