Lyra lay sprawled on her stomach at the edge of her bed, staring at the open notebook beside her. The pen in her hand didn't move—just twirled idly between her fingers.
She let out a long sigh, eyes drifting to the ceiling.
Damn it. Ever since that day, her thoughts hadn't known peace.
With a frustrated grunt, she tossed the pen onto the nightstand. How many times had she tried to focus? How many times had she told herself to stop thinking about Robin?
But it didn't matter. No matter how hard she tried, his face kept slipping into her mind—his voice, his eyes, the way he looked at her, desperate to be understood.
Lyra rubbed her temples. This wasn't like her. She wasn't the kind of girl who let herself spiral over a guy.
But this wasn't just about Robin. It was about trust. And the terrifying possibility of heartbreak if this really was the end.
Days had passed. But the tension still lingered like a storm cloud that wouldn't move.
Robin had tried. He texted, called, even waited around near her classrooms. But Lyra always had an excuse, always found a way to avoid him.
She just… couldn't face him. Not while her head was still a mess of doubt and fear.
Her thoughts wandered back to yesterday afternoon.
She had just finished class and was about to head home when she saw him—Robin, standing near the stairs.Their eyes met instantly.
Her instinct was to turn and walk the other way, but he moved first, stepping right into her path before she could escape.
"Lyra." His voice was steady, but the fatigue behind it was clear.
She bit her lip, uneasy. "Sorry, I'm in a hurry, Robin."
"Can we talk?"
"I…"
"Please." His voice cracked slightly, not desperate—but close. "I know I screwed up by not being honest. But I can't keep doing this. Not with things like this between us."
Lyra hesitated. She could see how serious he was. How badly he needed to say it.But part of her wasn't ready to hear any of it."…Okay," she said softly. "But just for a minute."
Robin looked like he wanted to breathe for the first time in days. He nodded toward the nearest bench by the campus garden. They walked over in silence.
As soon as they sat, Robin spoke. "I don't want to lose you."
Her hands clenched in her lap. "I don't either…"
"But you're still pushing me away."
Lyra shut her eyes for a second, gathering herself. "I just… need time... to trust you again."
That silenced him.
Lyra kept her eyes ahead, refusing to look at him. "I don't know if you kept it from me because I wasn't important enough to tell… or because you were afraid I'd react exactly like this. But whatever the reason, it still felt like betrayal."
Robin dragged a hand over his face, visibly exhausted. "I wasn't trying to hurt you. I didn't want to dig up something that meant nothing."
"But it's not your call to make alone."
He had no comeback for that.
The quiet between them grew heavier, sharper.
Lyra bit down hard on her lip, swallowing the lump in her throat. She wouldn't cry. Not here.
"…So now what?" Robin's voice barely broke the silence.
Lyra shrugged weakly. "I don't know."
He stared at her for a long time before finally nodding, slow and resigned, as if accepting he couldn't force an answer out of her.
"I'll still be here," he said softly. "I'm not giving up on you. I'll wait as long as it takes."
She didn't respond.
A few seconds later, Lyra stood and walked away—quiet, deliberate.
Robin didn't chase her.
But she knew this wasn't over.Not yet.
Something still lingered.Still burned.
But for now, all she could do was walk.
-------
It had been nearly a week since the fight. And in all that time, Robin hadn't stopped trying.
Inside the buzzing Student Council room, Lyra sat at one of the desks, her head bent over a stack of paperwork. Robin approached quietly, a bottle of her favorite drink in hand.
"Here," he said, setting it down next to her. "You should drink something."
She glanced at it for half a second, then returned to her work. "I'm not thirsty."
"You must be tired, though. I brought snacks too—if you want any."
"I'm not hungry," she said flatly, not even looking up.
Mei, sitting not far away, raised her brows at the interaction. She'd just arrived and had no idea what was going on between the two.
"Wow. Your boyfriend's seriously dedicated, huh? That kind of persistence's pretty rare." Mei chuckled, thinking it was cute.
Lyra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then, without a word, she stood up from her chair. "I'm stepping out for a bit."
Mei blinked, confused, and then turned to Robin with a questioning look. "Uh… what's up with her?"
Robin gave a tired smile and leaned back against the desk. "It's… a long story."
Mei narrowed her eyes, intrigued. "Wait—are you two fighting?"
"Something like that. And so far, she's still avoiding me," he said, exhaling hard.
Mei gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Rough. But don't worry, I give great advice."
Robin looked at her hopefully. "Seriously?"
She shrugged. "Not really. But I am a great listener."
He let out a laugh, finally admitting how ridiculous this all felt. "Okay, maybe I actually need that."
Mei scooted a little closer, folding her arms on the table. "So, what's the issue?"
"In short… she's mad because I wasn't honest about something."
Mei nodded slowly. "How bad are we talking?"
"Bad enough that she doesn't want to be around me for more than two minutes."
She paused to think. "Did you apologize?"
"Of course I did. What do you think I've been doing this whole week?" Robin groaned.
"Alright, alright, just checking. Has she shown any signs she might forgive you?"
Robin gave a weak shake of his head. "If quick side-glances count, then sure. Maybe once or twice. But the rest of the time? I feel like a mosquito she's trying to swat away."
Mei snorted. "Yikes. That's pretty bad if you've been downgraded to insect level."
"I've tried everything," Robin said, clearly frustrated. "I brought her favorite drinks, snacks, even offered to help with her student council stuff—but she's still completely shut off."
Mei looked at him, a little more serious now. "You're coming on too strong. Maybe she just needs space."
"And what if I give her space and she just… disappears?"
Mei tilted her head. "But if you keep pushing, she might pull away even harder. Sometimes people need time to process things. Don't corner her."
Robin went quiet, staring down at the drink he'd brought.
Maybe she had a point.
"But," Mei added with a sly little smile, "if you still want to show her you care… maybe you just need a softer touch."
"Like what?"
She tapped a finger to her lips, then smiled like she was proud of herself. "Ever heard of silent persistence?"
Robin raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Instead of going after her head-on, try just being around. Don't hand her stuff, don't hover. Just… be there. Let her feel your presence without pushing anything."
He frowned slightly, trying to wrap his head around that. "So… just stay quiet and exist?"
"Exactly. Sometimes people don't realize they miss you until you're not there anymore."
Robin stared at her for a beat, then sighed. "Alright. I'll give it a shot."
Mei beamed. "That's the spirit. And if it works, you owe me lunch."
"We'll see," he muttered.
But deep down, he was already mapping it out—how to be present without being a shadow. Persistent, but invisible.
Maybe, just maybe, that was what she needed.
--------
Lyra sat quietly, earbuds in, typing away on her laptop. A few seats over, Robin pretended to be absorbed in a stack of papers. In truth, he was just staring at a blank sheet, stealing glances at her every now and then.
Mei, sitting nearby, snorted under her breath. "You look like a starving cat waiting for someone to drop food."
Robin shot her a glare. "Shut up."
She grinned but let it go.
Meanwhile, Lyra tried to ignore him. But somehow, his silence was louder than any apology. If Robin had been his usual, obnoxious self, she could've snapped at him and walked away. But the way he simply sat there, like nothing had ever happened—that made it harder to pretend she didn't care.
Days passed like that. Robin was always there, but never in the way.
When she reached for a stack of documents, he'd already be standing nearby. No words, no awkward attempts at eye contact—just there. When she entered the meeting room, he'd already be seated at the far end, scribbling something in his notebook.
Then one day, something small—but strangely significant—happened.
After a long meeting, Lyra stepped out feeling the weight of exhaustion hit her hard. Her head throbbed, the mix of sleep deprivation and mounting stress finally catching up. She sank onto a bench outside the room, pressing her fingers to her temples with a weary sigh.
When she lifted her head again, there was a cold water bottle sitting in front of her.
She blinked, looking left and right. No one seemed to be paying particular attention to her. But then her eyes found Robin across the room.
He wasn't looking her way. Just hunched over his notes, acting like he hadn't done anything at all. But she knew. She just… knew.
She bit her lip, staring at the bottle for a moment—then picked it up and took a sip.
From across the room, Mei gave Robin a subtle thumbs-up. He didn't respond, but the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.
Things between them were still stiff after that. Robin kept his distance. He didn't hover, didn't interrupt, didn't offer random treats or try to cheer her up.
But he was still there.
And for some reason, that unsettled Lyra more than his previous behavior.
One afternoon, she was filling out a form in the Student Council room when she noticed Robin on the far side, chatting with another Student Council member—a friendly upperclassman from another faculty.
Robin laughed at something the guy said.
Lyra didn't know why, but the sound made her stomach twist.
It wasn't like Robin wasn't allowed to talk to other people. Obviously, he was. Still…
"He's changed a little, huh?" Mei's voice snapped her out of it.
Lyra turned. Mei was watching her, eyes full of mischief.
"What?"
"Robin," she said, leaning closer. "Still around, but not getting too close. That's intentional, right?"
Lyra didn't answer. She didn't want to admit she'd noticed.
"I don't care," she muttered, eyes back on the form.
Mei smirked. "If you really didn't care, you wouldn't bother saying it out loud."
Lyra nearly messed up a number on the page. "You're ridiculous."
"Suit yourself," Mei said with a shrug. "But be honest—if he actually stopped caring… wouldn't something feel different?"
Lyra fell silent.
What if Robin really had stopped trying?
No. That couldn't be true… right?
--------
She'd lost count of how many times she sighed. The air was getting warmer—March was nearly over.
She sat in silence near the vending machine, not buying anything, just... sitting there.
Lyra needed space, and that's exactly what she was giving herself. Space to think. To breathe. Until a familiar voice broke the quiet.
"Hey… you look like someone who just lost winning a million-dollar lottery."
She looked up, already knowing who it was. "What are you doing here?"
"I got bored being stuck in the lab all day." Arlo slid a coin into the vending machine, pressed a button, and caught the bottle as it dropped. "You here alone?"
"What do you think? Do I look like I'm with someone?"
He chuckled at the sharpness in her voice. Yep—definitely something going on.
"I don't wanna stir things up, but… you still not talking to Robin?"
"You tell me," Lyra muttered.
Arlo cracked the bottle open. "Did he apologize? Did he explain everything?"
Lyra exhaled. "He did."
"And? You still can't forgive him?"
"It's not that…" She ran a hand through her hair, making a small mess of it. "Ugh… my head hurts…"
Arlo let out a quiet laugh. The whole thing was kind of ridiculous—sad, but ridiculous. "He apologized, you listened, and clearly you don't hate him. So what's stopping you?"
"You wouldn't get it. It's… hard for me." Lyra's voice dropped, heavy with frustration. "I don't know if I can trust him again."
"Ah…" Arlo hummed, thinking for a moment. "So it's about trust?"
He looked genuinely puzzled. "I mean, I'm not trying to take sides, but people mess up, Lyra. It happens. And what Robin did… it wasn't unforgivable, right?"
Lyra didn't answer. She was still turning it over in her mind.
"I know he's your first lover," Arlo added gently. "But I really think he's sincere. Maybe too sincere. Maybe that's why he tried to protect you from the whole situation with… well, you know who—he was afraid it'd hurt you more."
"Say her name. She used to be our friend, remember?" Lyra said.
"Yeah, yeah… I didn't wanna go there, but if it helps you see things differently—fine." Arlo leaned forward a bit. "Robin once told that his past made him insecure. Can you imagine how hard it must be for him to bring up Suzie again? Especially since she used to be your best friend?"
That hit her.
She hadn't thought of it like that.
"If anything," Arlo continued, "you're being kind of unfair. You want him to understand you, but you haven't really tried to understand him. If he didn't care, he wouldn't be trying this hard."
He wasn't wrong.
"Can you imagine how painful it must've been—falling for someone who's close to the person that gave you emotional scars?"
Right again.
Arlo really was a good friend. Not the kind who just takes your side blindly, but the kind who tells you the truth, even when it's not what you want to hear.
His words landed like soft punches. Lyra wasn't good at this—love, emotions, all of it—but at least she didn't make decisions too quickly.
She let out a small breath, then turned to him. "Since when did you become so wise?"
Arlo puffed his chest proudly. "I've always been wise. You're the one who keeps thinking I'm only good for lame jokes."
"Well… you are the king of bad jokes." Lyra smirked. "But thanks."
"Huh? You finally saw the light?"
"Sort of…" she nodded slowly.
"That was fast." Arlo grinned. "Good. I hope you two work it out. Robin's a good guy. And as your friend, I want you to be with someone who makes you happy."
"Ugh, you're really making a habit of being my love master, huh? You're the one who made me realize how I felt in the first place."
"What can I say? Arlo is awesome," he said, proudly praising himself.
Lyra laughed softly. Her eyes then drifted to something peeking out of Arlo's pocket. "Hey… what's that?"
He followed her gaze, then pulled out a small, slightly crumpled package. "Ugh, it got all squished. I swear I tried to keep it neat," he muttered, smoothing the wrapper.
Her brow arched. "A gift? Since when do you give gifts to anyone?"
Arlo chuckled, making sure the wrapping looked decent. "Well… White Day's coming up."
"White Day?" Lyra echoed.
"You don't know?" he looked at her like she'd just confessed to never hearing of chocolate. "It's when guys give something back for Valentine's Day."
"Oh… right." The mention of Valentine's made her fall quiet.
That day replayed in her mind—sweet, romantic, full of warmth. She didn't even realize she was smiling a little.
Then she snapped back and looked at Arlo. "So… that's a gift for a girl?"
Arlo froze for half a second, like he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "Y-yeah… something like that."
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "Wait a second. You've been hiding this from me? Who is she? Since when? Am I not your best friend anymore? Why didn't you tell me?"
He laughed nervously, clearly flustered. "It's nothing serious yet. But… we're kinda close."
Lyra leaned in, curious. "Same major?"
He shook his head. "Pharmacy. We met during an interdisciplinary class. We clicked."
She raised an eyebrow, then smiled. "Well then… good luck."
Arlo chuckled and tucked the gift back into his pocket. "Thanks. But if I crash and burn, I'm coming to you to complain."
"Of course. I'll be a great listener… while quietly laughing if you get rejected."
"Hey!" he shot back, but they both burst into laughter.
For a moment, the weight in Lyra's chest felt a little lighter. Maybe watching Arlo take a chance on his own feelings reminded her of something important—everyone's scared, but we try anyway.
--------
The sound of a car pulling into the garage echoed across the quiet yard. Moments later, came the creak of a door opening, then shutting again.
Robin stepped into the house, tossed his bag onto the couch, and collapsed onto it like all the energy had drained from his body.
"Robin? You're home already?" came the gentle voice of his mother from the other room.
"Yeah, Mom... I'm back," he replied, his tone flat.
His mother appeared a second later, holding a warm cup of tea. "You're home early today. No student council stuff? No meetings?"
Robin let out a vague grunt, which made her frown.
"You okay?"
He turned his head slightly, gave a silent shake.
She sighed and sat down beside him, crossing her arms. "You're terrible at lying, you know that?"
Before he could even respond, she added, "You two had a fight, didn't you?"
Robin choked on his tea. "W-What?"
His mother stared at him with that calm, knowing look. "You and Lyra."
"How did you—"
"A mother knows." She gave him a look. "You've been quieter than usual. Always spacing out. Snappy like some heartbroken poet. And a pile of homework doesn't make someone this moody."
Robin blinked. Half impressed. Half exposed. "Wow... that's scary accurate."
"So?" she asked gently. "How long's it been since you two talked?"
He let out a long sigh, defeated. "Almost a week."
She nodded, sipping her tea. "Want to tell me what happened?"
Robin stared into his cup, the words stuck for a moment. "I… made a mistake," he said quietly. "I kept something from her. I didn't think it was a big deal, but… she felt betrayed."
His mom didn't say anything right away. She simply sipped her tea again, giving him space to continue.
"I've apologized. Tried to show I still care. But… she keeps pulling away."
"Then what?" she asked gently. "You planning to give up?"
Robin shook his head instantly. "Of course not."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "Good. Because when you really love someone, you don't give up just because they need a little more time."
He looked at her then, quietly taking in every word.
"So maybe," she added, "what you need now… is a new approach. Something that truly shows how much you're willing to try."
"Like what?"
She gave him a knowing smile. "Well... as it happens, I might have an idea."
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*** TO BE CONTINUE ***