The studio was far too quiet. The kind of silence that doesn't help you focus, only amplifies the thoughts you're trying to push away. I sat at the table with a mug of coffee and opened my notebooks, convincing myself that calculus and geometry were the only things worth occupying my mind.
"Stop thinking about him, Helena," I muttered to myself, as if it were an order.
But it was useless. My brain insisted on circling back to the same point: Rafael walking me home. And the detail that kept me awake — how did he know about my struggles with calculus? Had the landlord told him that quickly?
I sighed deeply, trying to push the thoughts away. Opened the notebook, pressed play on the class recording. The professor's monotonous, drawn-out voice filled the room.
That's when I heard the familiar creak of the gate. This time I didn't run to the window. I already knew it was Rafael leaving for his nightly walk — mysterious, almost ritualistic. Pretending not to care, I poured a second mug of coffee and forced myself to listen to the professor's explanation on my phone.
The hours dragged by. More than two endless hours of scribbled notes and formulas that seemed to multiply on their own. When I finally dropped the pen, I was exhausted, my eyes burning, frustration weighing on me like a brick.
I slammed the book shut. The sound echoed in the silence like a release. I stood abruptly, pulled on a hoodie, and stepped outside for air, with no idea where I was going.
My steps moved faster than logic. At every corner, every shadow stretched by the moon, I realized how little I knew of the neighborhood. By the time I noticed, I was already several blocks from home — and alone, late at night.
A shiver crawled up my neck.The sensation of being watched grew stronger. I tried to convince myself it was only fatigue and imagination, but my ears didn't lie: there were footsteps behind me.
My heart raced. I thought of running, but on impulse I turned suddenly, fists clenched, ready to react.
And then I saw.
Rafael.The hood hiding part of his face, lit by the moonlight. He stood there, serious, as if studying me.
"You nearly scared me to death!" I snapped, my heartbeat still out of rhythm. "I thought I was about to be mugged… or kidnapped… or worse, have my organs sold!"
He raised an eyebrow, irritated."If you were that scared, you shouldn't be walking the streets at night in pajamas, slippers, and a hoodie."
I looked down at myself and felt my face burn. I had left exactly as I was, without thinking. Pajamas, slippers, hoodie. The realization made me choke."I…" I couldn't finish.
Rafael shrugged."I'm going home. Let's go."
We walked side by side. The silence was only broken when I rushed to explain myself:"I was going crazy with these calculations. I have to do well on the exams, for me and for my parents. I can't disappoint them."
The words came out before I thought. Then, in a burst of courage I didn't know I had, I blurted:"Since they say you're good at everything… even calculus… maybe you could teach me."
He didn't hesitate."I don't want to."
I stopped, stunned by the coldness of his answer."I can pay you! Or take care of the garden for a month! Or cook for you for an entire week!"
Rafael didn't move."I don't have the patience to teach."
Frustration pierced through me like a weight. I muttered, more to myself than to him:"Then maybe I should just join the study group from class."
And that's when something shifted. The mocking air disappeared, replaced by an unexpected seriousness. The silence between us grew heavy, almost uncomfortable.
We reached the gate. I climbed a few steps, confused, when his voice reached me, firm:
"Tomorrow, after class, wait for me in the library." A pause. "But you'll have to work hard to learn."
My heart jumped. I nodded quickly, too shy to look at him, and shut the studio door like someone trying to hide the mess inside themselves.
Somehow, I knew: tomorrow would be the beginning of another story.