The night air was cool, brushing against her skin, but she barely felt it. She sat there, her knees drawn close, staring at the cracks in the pavement. Kai was next to her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, though he didn't touch her.
Silence stretched between them, heavy but alive.
Then, suddenly, he spoke. His voice was low, like he wasn't sure he should be saying the words at all.
"I used to have a little sister."
Her head snapped toward him, startled. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, dark and unreadable.
"She was younger than me. Fragile, you know? Everyone always said I was supposed to protect her." His jaw clenched, his voice rough. "But I didn't. I wasn't there when she needed me. And when she was gone, all I could think about was how I should've done more."
Her chest ached, the words cutting straight through her. She wanted to say something—I'm sorry, that's not your fault, you were just a kid—but the look on his face stopped her. His expression was a storm, equal parts grief and guilt, and she realized this wasn't the kind of wound that healed with reassurances.
Instead, she whispered, "That's why you stopped yourself earlier. Because you're scared of hurting someone again."
Kai's hand curled into a fist on his knee. "I don't trust myself," he admitted, his voice breaking in a way that made her throat tighten. "I keep thinking… what if I mess up again? What if I break something I can't fix?"
For a moment, she didn't know what to say. She was used to people who laughed at her, ignored her, talked about her behind her back. She wasn't used to someone laying themselves bare like this.
Slowly, carefully, she reached out. Her fingers hovered uncertainly, then brushed against his hand. Just barely. Enough to let him know she was there.
"You didn't break me," she said softly, her voice trembling but steady enough. "You didn't hurt me. You scared yourself more than you scared me."
His eyes finally met hers, dark and burning, and for the first time she saw not just guilt—but relief. Like maybe he wasn't completely beyond saving.
They didn't say anything after that. They didn't need to.
They just sat there, two broken people in the quiet night, finally letting their cracks show.