The dorm was still when Alexander got back that night.Mateo's desk lamp was on, casting a soft glow over scattered notebooks, but his roommate wasn't home. Probably off with his girlfriend, or doing something far more social than Alexander would ever bother with this late.
He dropped his keys on the dresser and collapsed onto the edge of his bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His phone buzzed once—just a notification—but he ignored it. His mind was still caught somewhere back at the burger joint.
He hadn't expected to see her there.Not Elena, not at that hour, looking a little windblown and carrying a crumpled grocery list like it was a mission.
He could still picture her, leaning across the table, teasing him at first, but then—Then, it shifted.
She'd told him something personal. Something raw, even if she didn't frame it that way.
"I let people in too easily. And then I wonder why I get hurt when they don't stay."
That sentence kept replaying in his head, as if his mind was holding onto it like a frayed thread.
Because he got it.Not in the same way—his problem had never been letting people in too easily.His problem was never letting anyone in at all.
It wasn't because he didn't care. He cared too much, maybe, but caring and showing it were different beasts. Most of the time, it was easier to keep everyone at arm's length. Less to lose that way.
But Elena…
She had this way of bypassing all that armor, like she wasn't even trying.
Alexander leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. The quiet hum of the mini-fridge filled the room.
What was it about her?
She wasn't like the people he'd met before—people who smiled on the surface but were only looking for what they could take from you. Elena wasn't playing games. She wasn't pushing, either. She just was.
And that was dangerous.Because it made him want to be the same.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.
The festival.
She'd invited him like it was nothing—just a casual, "Hey, want to come?"But it wasn't nothing.
It was a chance.A space outside of campus, outside of late-night burger joints, outside of the safe bubble they'd built so far.
And for some reason, he wanted to show her something there.
Not just the easy version of himself.Not just the guy who drives her around and makes dry jokes about overpriced popcorn.
Something real. Something he'd buried a long time ago.
The thought unsettled him.
Because he didn't do that.He didn't share.
Not about the messy stuff.Not about the things that kept him awake at 3 a.m.Not about the moments in his past that made him this way—quiet, careful, and cautious about who got close.
But with Elena, the idea didn't scare him.
It almost felt… necessary.
His phone lit up on the nightstand.
No new messages from her.And for some reason, he felt relieved.
Tonight didn't need words.
Tonight, it was enough to sit with the memory of her green eyes watching him across the table, open and unafraid.
Alexander grabbed his notebook—the one he kept for car sketches and random thoughts—and flipped it open, though he didn't write anything. The pen hovered for a moment, then dropped back onto the page.
Maybe, when the festival came, he'd tell her something about himself.Nothing heavy—just a piece of him.
A story, maybe. Or why he liked driving late at night when the world was quiet.Something small but honest.
Because for the first time, he wanted someone to know.
He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling until the dorm lights dimmed to black.
The festival was only a few days away.And maybe, just maybe, that would be the moment to let her see a little more of the person he didn't show to anyone else.