Ever since I started studying with Rafael, my nights had never been quiet again. There was always something keeping me from resting: a phrase of his, an unexpected gesture, even the silence that stretched between us. But that night was worse. His jacket on my shoulders had been the final straw, and every time I closed my eyes it all came rushing back: the way he looked at me, the rare smile, the unexpected gesture. Sleep felt impossible.
The fabric carried his scent. A clean, discreet fragrance. A smell you couldn't quite describe — it simply existed. A smell that was his.
Why had he done that? Rafael wasn't the type for unexpected gestures, much less for getting close. Always so restrained, so certain of the distances he wanted to keep. But that night… that night he seemed different. Lighter. As if, for a few minutes, he had forgotten to worry about keeping others away.
I shook my head, laughing at myself. Maybe it was just my wishful thinking twisting the facts. Maybe I wanted it so badly to be true that I had started inventing it.
I ran to the shower, let the warm water try to wash my thoughts away, put on my pajamas and lay down. The light from the street slipped through the crack in the curtain, illuminating the chair where I had hung the jacket. It was the last thing I saw before falling asleep.
I woke before the alarm. My heart was already racing with the thought: this would be the last study session before the dreaded exam. What scared me wasn't the equations themselves, but the uncomfortable feeling that maybe it would also be the last time I saw Rafael. A silly thought, perhaps, but one that brought a sadness I couldn't ignore.
I dragged myself to the kitchen, drank bitter coffee, grabbed some cookies in a rush, and took an apple for the way. When I opened the door of my apartment, I froze.
There they were. The landlord, watering the garden calmly, and Rafael beside him, speaking quietly. My knees trembled, but I forced myself to look steady. I walked down the stairs slowly, trying to seem composed.
"Good morning, Helena!" the landlord said with a smile."Good morning!" I answered, gripping the apple like an anchor. "I'm enjoying these last moments of calm… because once the exams start, it'll be a nightmare."
The landlord laughed. "Ah, it'll pass. And look, you're in good hands." He cast a proud glance at his son. "Rafael has always been excellent at these subjects."
I blushed, fiddling with the apple in my fingers. "I'll need all the help I can get."
Rafael didn't answer. He only adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder and stepped forward."Shall we?" he asked, without looking at me.
The tone sounded neutral, but the way he said it… it was almost as if he had been waiting for me.
We walked together. The silence wasn't heavy; it was almost comfortable. Still, I gathered courage:"I didn't know I'd run into you this early. If I had, I'd have brought your jacket back."
He shrugged, eyes on the street."It doesn't matter."
I kept walking, but the strange sensation lingered — as if he noticed every one of my movements, even when he didn't look.
We reached the campus. The chatter of students seemed louder that day, laughter and whispers filling the courtyard. I pretended not to hear, but I knew the stares following us weren't by chance. Rafael didn't react either, as always. But I knew he noticed.
Before we parted ways, I tried to ease the silence:"Funny how the days went by so fast… it's already the last one before the exam. I bet you're relieved you won't have to play my tutor anymore."
He paused for a moment, then simply said:"It wasn't that bad."
And then he walked off toward his class, as if he had said something ordinary. But to me, it didn't sound ordinary at all.
The entire day dragged on. Evelyn laughed at everything, as usual, but I barely kept up. From the corner of the room, Daniel seemed to watch me more than usual, and for the first time, it bothered me.
In the last class, the students were dismissed early, a little encouragement before exams. I left laughing at one of Evelyn's jokes, thinking about grabbing a coffee before heading to the library.
But as soon as I neared the door, the world seemed to stop.
Rafael was there. Leaning against the doorway, two coffees in hand, the strap of his bag across his chest. But this time, there was no black jacket wrapping him in mystery. Just a plain white t-shirt, simple, showing the firmness of his shoulders, the quiet lines of his muscles.
The absence of the jacket left him exposed in a different way, almost intimate, and it was impossible not to notice. It felt like, for the first time, I was seeing not the Rafael everyone feared, but the boy behind the armor.
And in that instant, I thought my legs might give way.