While Reize was distracted organizing boxes in the corner of the warehouse, Arika remained seated, holding the warm cup in her hands. Her fingers wrapped around it as if she could still draw warmth from it, though it wasn't just coldness she felt: it was something deeper, more difficult to shake off. Her downcast gaze, lost among the dissipating wisps of steam, spoke of something she couldn't put into words.
Koen, a few steps away, watched her silently. There was something about her posture that disturbed him: her stiff shoulders, her restrained breathing, as if even the silence hurt her.
—Would you like some more? — he asked quietly, leaning slightly with the jug in his hand.
Arika shook her head gently.
—No, thank you —she whispered without looking up.
Koen hesitated for a moment, then set the jug aside. He didn't sit down immediately, but he didn't walk away either.
—Can I stay here for a while? —he asked, in a neutral, almost shy tone.
Arika looked up, surprised.
—Yes… of course.
Koen sat down next to her, not too close, but not too far away either. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, just heavy. Charged.
—You know? —he finally said, in a low voice, almost as if talking to himself—. When I was a kid, I had a lot of nightmares. Especially after I moved. I dreamed about my mother… I dreamed that I was looking for her everywhere and that no matter how far I ran, I couldn't find her.
Arika looked at him, surprised by his confession. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, but there was a melancholy in his expression that made her hold her breath.
—And when I woke up… —he continued, putting a hand to his chest— I felt this. A strange emptiness. As if something had disappeared inside me, even though I knew it was only a dream.
Arika slowly lowered the cup, placing it on the floor.
—I understand —she said—. Last night I dreamed that Reize was leaving... that I was losing her. That I couldn't reach her. It was so real that I still feel that emptiness.
Koen nodded slowly, moving a little closer.
—But she didn't leave. Look at her —he said, nodding slightly toward Reize, who was now carefully stacking things—. She's here. And so are you. Sometimes dreams just scream at us what we fear losing the most, not what's really going to happen.
Arika swallowed. The lump in her throat was beginning to loosen, but not completely.
—I know. But I still have a hard time letting go. And I don't like feeling this way. Fragile. Useless.
—You're not, —Koen said firmly, turning to face her—. What you felt doesn't make you any less strong. It just shows that you care. That you have something to lose. And that... that's also a form of courage.
She blinked, surprised by his tone.
—You don't sound like yourself..
Koen smiled, tilting his head slightly.
—Maybe I'm learning to sound different.
Arika lowered her gaze, but a small smile appeared on her lips.
—Thank you. For saying that. For listening to me. And for not judging me.
—I have nothing to judge —he replied softly—. I break down sometimes too. Only… I do it inside. Deep inside.
Arika watched him silently for a few seconds, until, almost without thinking, she rested her head on his shoulder.
Koen remained motionless.
It wasn't the first time someone had approached him, but this... felt different. Something in his body reacted immediately: his pulse quickened, and for a second, he didn't know what to do with his hands. He swallowed. He was surprised by how fast his heart began to beat, as if that simple gesture had broken down a barrier he didn't even know he had built.
He could feel the slight weight of her head, the warmth of her closeness. And, against all instinct, he didn't pull away.
On the contrary.
He turned his face slightly, just enough to see her out of the corner of his eye. Arika had closed her eyes, perhaps just out of tiredness... but at that moment, she seemed at peace. Vulnerable. And for some reason, that image touched him deeply.
It reminded him of his childhood. Of the moments when, after a bad day or a nightmare, he would curl up next to his mother, seeking refuge. It was a memory he didn't often revisit, but now it came to him with clarity. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to feel anything like that. Calm. Trust. Warmth.
And there he was, with a girl who, not long ago, was just a stranger. A new face among so many others.
But now... he couldn't see her that way anymore. She had become a point of calm in his turbulent mind. Something about her broke the constant noise, as if her presence allowed him to breathe easier.
He didn't understand why. Nor did he want to understand.
"Don't hold on to that," he told himself, closing his eyes tightly. "This isn't the time... and maybe it never will be."
But even so... he didn't move away.
Because in that moment, for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel alone.
—Are you feeling better? — he murmured, without looking away from the road ahead.
Arika opened her eyes, startled. It took her a second to process where she was leaning, and when she realized, she sat up abruptly.
— Ah...! I'm sorry—she said quickly, moving away a little—. I didn't mean to... I thought it was just for a second. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.
Koen turned slightly toward her, his expression soft, almost amused.
—You didn't make me uncomfortable.
She looked at him, still a little embarrassed, but with relief in her eyes.
—I just… did it without thinking. I was tired and…
—It's okay —he interrupted her in a calm voice—. Sometimes you don't need to think so much. If it made you feel better, then it's okay.
She lowered her gaze slightly, nervously touching her hair.
—Yes… it did.
—Then don't apologize.
There was a brief silence, less tense now. More serene.
Arika played with her fingers, thoughtfully.
—I've been thinking about what you said… "Fear won't do you any good out there. If you don't learn to control it, it will consume you or worse, paralyze you."
Koen looked away, with a mixture of discomfort and guilt.
—I was too blunt. I shouldn't have said it like that… it sounded harsher than I meant it to.
—Maybe, but... it was something I needed to hear —she said, without reproach—. At first it bothered me. But now I understand. I don't want fear to control me.
Koen nodded, lowering his voice.
—I didn't say those words to hurt you. Sometimes I don't know how to say things… but I'm worried about you, Arika.
She turned slowly toward him, surprised. The expression on her face softened, and her eyes, still somewhat tired, lit up with a spark that seemed dangerously warm to him.
Koen blinked and cleared his throat, looking away.
—I mean... I worry about what happens to you because… well, we're in this together, aren't we? We have the same purpose. To survive. That's all.
Arika raised an eyebrow, amused, as if she could see through that clumsy excuse.
—Sure... survive —she replied with a small smile, without arguing.
Koen glanced at her sideways. That smile. He didn't know what it was exactly, but something in his chest stirred strongly, unexpectedly. Like a flutter. A warm pressure rising in his stomach.
He was silent for a moment, trying to ignore it, to bury it with logic or fear... but he couldn't.
"If she keeps smiling like that... this is going to get dangerous," he thought, not sure if he was referring to her... or himself.
He wanted to back away, to close the doors he had kept sealed for so long. But he didn't.
He stayed. There. By her side.
And deep down, he knew it was too late to pretend he felt nothing.