The drive back was quieter than the one to the festival.
Not in a bad way. It was the kind of silence that didn't weigh heavy between them, didn't make him second-guess every word that might break it. The radio played softly, something slow and unobtrusive, and the hum of the road filled in the blanks.
Elena leaned slightly toward the window, not quite looking out but not really watching him either. Her head was tilted against the seat, her lips parted just a little, like she was on the edge of speaking but hadn't decided if it was worth it.
Alex kept his eyes on the road, letting the stillness stretch a little longer.
He wasn't in a rush to ruin it.
Eventually, her voice broke through, soft and thoughtful.
"You ever think about how… some days just hit different?"
He glanced over, one brow raised. "That's vague."
She smiled faintly. "I mean days like this. Ones that don't seem important until they already are."
He let the thought settle before answering. "Yeah. I've had a few."
"And this was one of them?"
He could feel her looking at him now, not directly—but from the side, measuring him.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he exhaled slowly and gave her a small nod. "Yeah. This one made the list."
They stopped at a red light. She turned toward him more fully, tucking her legs up on the seat just slightly. "Can I ask something?"
"You just did," he said, smirking.
She rolled her eyes. "Real original."
"Go ahead."
She was quiet for a moment, then: "Why do you always seem like you're holding back? Not just with me, but… with everyone?"
He felt the question hit something deeper than he expected.
He wasn't angry. Just… exposed.
He thought about giving her a deflection, something dry and forgettable.
But instead, he glanced at her, meeting her gaze.
And he answered.
"Because most people only want the surface-level version of someone. They don't stick around long enough for the rest."
Elena blinked. "That's a little cynical."
"Maybe," he said. "But it's been true."
The light turned green. He started driving again.
For a few beats, neither of them said anything.
Then she said, "Well… maybe I want to see past that. If you'll let me."
It wasn't a demand. Not even an invitation. Just a truth laid bare.
And for the first time in a long time, Alexander didn't want to run from it.
"I guess it's only fair," he said after a moment, voice low. "You've opened up a lot more than I have."
She didn't speak, just looked at him with that steady, thoughtful calm of hers.
So he went on.
"My mom left when I was a kid. My dad and I don't really talk anymore. I've been on my own since I was seventeen. Working. Fixing things. Trying to build something I can actually rely on." He paused. "It's hard to let people in when you've learned not to expect them to stay."
There it was. No flair. No drama.
Just the kind of truth that came with the weight of years behind it.
Elena didn't respond right away.
But when she did, her voice was gentle. "Thanks for telling me that."
He nodded.
They pulled up in front of her dorm. The campus lights cast long shadows, soft yellow against the darkness.
She made no move to leave yet.
After a quiet moment, she said, "You know… I like calling you Alexander, but it feels so formal sometimes. What do your friends call you?"
He gave a small laugh. "Most people don't get close enough to ask."
She raised an eyebrow. "And yet here I am."
He considered that, then shrugged. "You can call me Alex, if you want. Or something else. As long as it's not 'grease monkey' or 'broody car guy.'"
Elena laughed. "I'll keep that in mind, Alex."
She got out of the car, but lingered by the door. "See you soon?"
He looked at her, the corners of his mouth tilting into something softer. "Count on it."
And as she walked up the steps to her building, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
She wanted to see past the surface.
And for once… maybe he'd let her.