The campus was quiet under the night sky.
Everything was now silent—the dormitories noise had ceased, the noise from the courtyards was no longer perceptible. Only the noise of the leaves could be heard in the darkness, and the moon, pale and unending, was lighting the campus with its silver light.
Zac was cross-legged on his bed with his phone on full brightness but the screens light was hardly noticeable. Tea from his thermos was still warm and its aroma could be perceived since it was giving off the comfort he wished he could offer directly to Januz. His thumb was hovering over the message box indecisively, tracing and deleting that didn't agree with the mood of the message.
Once more, he typed, "Could you come out for a while? I have something to show you." Here is the fifth time he has reached out to Januz and not receiving any message in return.
Turning the fifth time back into the fifth time of Zac's hesitation was his chest swelling with uncertainty.
What if Januz found it silly? What if he threw it aside like he does all things that are hurting him? What if Zac had completely misunderstood the whole situation - the tension in his shoulders, the frightening way he woke up in the library earlier, sweat-covered and shaking?
But no - the hollow echo in Januz smile when he whispered I'm fine was something Zac couldn't overlook.
He wasn't alright. Zac was sure of it. He had seen it in those storm-tossed eyes too.
So he clicked send.
And those words were gone.
Zac let out a shaky breath, as though he had just given something precious away. His heartbeat pounded hard in his chest as he continued to stare at the screen waiting for a reply. Each moment was stretched like time for the stars outside was holding its breath with him.
The notification arrived.
One word.
Januz: Where are you?
A faint smile crept over Zac's face, warmth like a fire spreading inside his chest. He took the thermos and his jacket and went out into the night.
---
One of the most special places in the city was not the roof, and yet it seemed to remain secret. It could be seen only a little above the campus with the city in the background and quite low to still hear the wind blowing through the trees. The astronomy club, in general, took possession of it, but not tonight. It was theirs only.
In fact, he was there already.
He was at the edge of the balcony, back to Zac, his stance was as precise as a knife's edge - tightly folded arms, as if he was protecting something delicate there. The night wind played with his black hair making him appear even more lonely as if he was made from the darkness only.
Zac was motionless for a minute and just he observed. There was something about Januz that made him seem so distant that he was not even applicable to this world. It seemed like he was the one destined for the stars themselves.
"I brought tea," said Zac as he came near, lifting the thermos. His voice was weaker than he anticipated, "For nightmares."
Januz looked at him and turned his head a bit with a blink. For a moment, the surprise hit his face and it didn't lie beneath that usual thick wall, unlike any other time, "You're weird!" he said.
However, the words were not spoken with anger or bitterness but only with gratitude of a soft voice.
They sat next to each other on the ledge with their legs hanging down, steam coming from the cups that Zac filled. The campus lay under them in dull blues and grays while the stars were already beginning to shine above their heads.
The constellation of Orion was still standing strong to the south. Lyra was barely visible directly above. The stars looked as if you could grab them.
"You know," Zac mumbled after a while, "I sometimes feel that the stars are spying on us. That they have secrets from us which we do not find out yet."
Januz didn't immediately respond. Slowly he took a sip and looked at the stars. For a moment, Zac felt that Januz would not answer at all.
Then, almost inaudibly, "What's the real reason you brought me here?"
Zac tightened the grip of his fingers on his cup. He could have laughed it away or he could have said something about tea, the stars, or the view. But something in Januz's voice—his weariness, his unrecognized plea—undid him and made him speak.
"To be honest, I care."
Januz looked at him. This time, he didn't look to the side. His eyes, black like the night sky, scanned Zac's face as if wanting to find the truth in every wrinkle.
"I saw you at the library today," Zac said quietly. "That wasn't only tiredness, Januz. You seemed to be battling something. And while you are under no obligation to be honest with me... I cannot just pretend that I did not see it."
The space between them grew bigger—not dense, but fragile like glass.
Zac's breath was slow and irregular. "I used to think that I had to conceal everything from me. My fears. My feelings. Especially from my father. He was always expecting me to be strong, to be... normal." He laughed hollowly. "I guess watching stars and liking men was not exactly part of the plan."
Januz's face, at that moment, seemed to change, the darkness that was there before lifting a little. He was trying not to smile. "And although you are here."
"Yup," Zac smiled weakly and mumbled, "Here I am."
The long silence between them was only disturbed by the soft sound of the wind.
Then Januz said, his voice deep, heavy as if saying it was difficult: "There was someone. Before."
Zac felt like his heart was being squeezed.
"Crisia was her name." With every cut like tiny pieces of glass, Januz's voice dropped the words. His trembling let go of the cup. "She... was my entire world."
Zac swallowed hard not to make a sound.
"What has become of her?" he asked in a very soft voice.
Januz's clenched his jaw and his eyes were full of memories that he didn't want to cry. "She died. Because of me."
The night appeared to freeze. Not even the stars were shining brightly.
"She trusted me," Januz gave it a go but his voice faltered on the word trusted. "I was there to protect her. But I couldn't. I did not succeed. And then..." He didn't continue, the silence that followed was heavier than any words. "I stopped believing in happy endings after that."
Zac's throat ached with a pinch of old sorrow. He put his cup down and reached his hand over to Januz's. It was a quiet, calming gesture.
"You're not alone anymore," said Zac in a soft tone but with firm conviction. "I know you won't talk even if it were to change your mind but still I will be here. I'll take your place. I'll stay."
Januz felt the motion. The fingers that were under the hand's touch moved and then closed very tightly on Zac's hand like it was a ship's hold. His eyes caught a little sparkle of the moonlight.
"You make me see the light," he muttered. "To live."
Zac's heart was almost knocked out of his chest.
He moved in just a bit, not able to resist the pull. "I have no idea of what it might be between us," he admitted, voice low and shaky, "but I know I do. Every time I'm near you. Like... like it was my destiny."
Januz really looked at him then. He didn't just Glance. His eyes went over Zac's phys- face like memorizing it—the cheek's curve, the look in the eyes, the way the moonlight was outlining him in silver.
Zac's hand almost instinctively traced the outline of a hair on Januz's face and his finger stayed with him. The warmth of his skin caught him off guard. It was real. It was fragile.
Januz didn't step back. His breath hitched, and for one infinite heartbeat, they were there, hanging suspended between friendship and something more.
They felt like the stars themselves had stopped to listen.
And then—very far away—the old bell tower rang eleven.
The sound popped the moment like it was made of glass.
Januz's eyes shut. He eased a bit away, lips tightening into a thin line. "It's late."
Zac's hand slipped away. Cold air rushed where warmth had been. He put on a smile though his chest was heavy with it. "Yeah... it is."
Januz walked off, putting his hands into his pockets, the night wind pulling at his sleeves. He lingered as if something was still there that needed to be said, but the words never came.
"Same time tomorrow?" Zac, feeling lighter than he was, said.
Januz looked for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, I would like that."
After that, he wasn't there anymore, his outline merging with the darkness.
Zac remained, gazing at the stars sprinkled across the sky.
He didn't quite understand what Januz was keeping from him but at least he had let him in tonight. And Zac—stupid, hopeful, patient—still wanted to be by that window, no matter how long it took.
Even if the truth was deciphered in a different language.
Even if it was only found in silence and starlight.