Morning light spilled thinly across Elira's small room, painting the walls a muted gold. The warmth should've been comforting at this time, but her thoughts were anything but. She sat cross-legged on the floor with her laptop open, staring at the list of job postings she could barely relate with. Each tab was a blur of unfamiliar words, technical terms twisted in a language that wasn't hers.
She exhaled, frustration swelling in her chest. How hard could it be to just find something simple? Anything…
Scrolling further, she clicked on an advertisement that promised "assistant positions available," only to discover it required fluent local language proficiency. Another required recommendations she didn't have. A third wanted prior experience within the city. The wall between her and the opportunities felt taller as the minute passes.
The cursor blinked, mocking her silence.
Her phone buzzed — a message from Caelum.
"Heading out to the market. Do you need anything?"
Elira hesitated before typing back.
"Actually… do you have time later? I wanted to ask you about something."
The reply came almost instantly.
"Of course. I'll come by after lunch."
Her lips unknowingly curved into a small smile. It was easy with him. No weight, no pressure — just simple kindness.
Still, as she closed the laptop, a faint unease tugged at her. That shadow from before. That tattoo guy — Rowan. She hadn't seen him again since that day, but sometimes, when she walked back to her building, she swore she felt eyes on her.
By noon, the air was heavy with the smell of grilled meat and spiced tea drifting from the street vendors. Caelum met her outside her building, hands tucked into his pockets, a boyish smile breaking across his face.
"You look like you've been wrestling with something," he said as they started walking.
"More like wrestling with words I can't read," Elira muttered.
"Ah." He chuckled softly. "The job hunt."
She nodded, sighing. "It's impossible. Every listing wants experience, recommendations, fluency—like they've built a wall just to keep me out."
"They built walls, yes," Caelum said, his tone light, "but every wall has a crack somewhere. We just have to find it."
The way he said we loosened the knot in her chest.
They stopped by a vendor selling notebooks and pens. Elira hesitated at the counter, fumbling over her words as she tried to ask the price. The vendor looked confused, then impatient, responding rapidly in his own tongue.
Her cheeks heated, and frustration coiled up again. "I'm sorry—I don't—"
Before the man could wave her off, Caelum stepped forward, smiling politely. He spoke fluidly, smoothing the tension with ease. Within moments, the vendor's frown had softened, and Elira found herself holding a neatly wrapped notebook she hadn't even realized she'd purchased.
"You make it look easy," she muttered once they walked away.
"It's not hard," Caelum said with a grin. "You just need practice. I could teach you a few words each day, if you'd like."
Her steps slowed. "Really? You'd do that?"
"Of course," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Consider it… my contribution to breaking those walls."
Something warm stirred in her chest, softer than relief.
Later, as they reached the quieter streets near her building, Elira caught sight of movement across the road. A man leaned against a lamppost, half-shrouded by the shadow of a tree. His posture unhurried yet watchful.
Her heart stuttered. The sharpness of his profile. That same weight in the air. Rowan.
She blinked, and in that instant, he pushed off the lamppost, turning down an alley without a word. Gone as quickly as he'd appeared.
"Elira?" Caelum's soft voice pulled her back. "You okay?"
She forced a nod, though her eyes lingered on the empty alley. "Yeah. Just… thought I saw something."
He studied her for a moment, concern flickering in his gaze, but didn't press. Instead, he smiled gently. "Don't worry. You're not alone here, remember?"
Not alone. She wanted to believe that. She wanted Caelum's warmth to be enough to banish the strange unease gnawing at her.
Returning to her small room, the air felt warmer with Caelum there, sleeves rolled up as he leaned over her laptop. The screen glowed with a clutter of job listings, and he began sorting through them with an ease she envied.
"Some of these are scams," he muttered, clicking one closed. "And these…" he paused, tilting his head, "require fluency, so we'll skip them for now."
Elira sat beside him, pen in hand, scribbling down the few that seemed possible. For the first time that day, the wall between her and opportunity didn't feel so tall.
"Tell you what," Caelum said, tapping the desk lightly. "Every evening, one hour or more. We'll look through postings, practice the language, work on applications. Step by step, alright?"
She blinked at him, surprised. "You'd really spend your time doing that?"
"Why not?" His grin was boyish but steady. "It's not charity, Elira. It's teamwork."
Her chest tightened, but not with frustration this time. With something lighter. Hope, maybe.
As the afternoon light thinned into gold, they sat side by side, building a small plan out of scattered listings and half-formed words. For now, it was enough.