The quiet of the room lingered long after they had returned home. Neither of them reached for the light, and only the faint glow from the streetlamps slipped through the curtains. The silence wasn't uncomfortable—it was heavy, meaningful, like a space that allowed the heart to speak when words hadn't yet formed.
Kaein sat with his arms resting over his knees, waiting. He didn't ask questions, didn't force Lior to explain. He only watched the shifting shadows across Lior's face, as if giving him permission to take as much time as he needed.
Finally, Lior's voice broke the silence.
"Kaein… do you know why I consider you my only friend?" His tone was low, almost trembling, like he wasn't sure if his confession was something he should even be saying aloud.
Kaein tilted his head slightly but didn't answer, keeping his gaze steady on him. That quiet encouragement was enough for Lior to continue.
"When I was eight, my parents left me. Not… in the way people say goodbye for a short while. They left, and I realized they weren't coming back. My father never wanted me to begin with. To him, I was nothing more than a mistake. It was the first time I understood how cruel the world could be—that I could live in a house and still have no place to belong."
He paused, pressing his lips together as if steadying himself. Kaein didn't move. He just listened.
"I almost gave up on studying back then. I thought, 'Why bother? Even if I work hard, nobody cares.' But then… I saw you." Lior's eyes softened, memories spilling into his words. "You were so focused, so determined. I don't even know when it started, but I fell for you. I kept those feelings hidden for a year. Just watching from a distance was enough for me."
His voice cracked faintly at the edges, and he let out a quiet laugh, self-mocking but tender.
"Then, by chance, you asked me to tutor you—me, of all people. You wanted to study from the top ranker. And I… who never wanted to share my knowledge, who hated talking to anyone… I said yes. I didn't agree because I wanted to teach. I agreed because it was you. And from then on, my world… changed."
He drew in a breath, eyes flickering with both relief and sorrow.
"With you, I learned what happiness feels like. Playing sports. Trying clothes I'd never touch before. Laughing. Talking about things that had nothing to do with grades. I never imagined I could do any of that until you pulled me into it. And the more I fell for that world—the more I fell for you—the harder it became to watch you be with others. I couldn't stand it."
Kaein's brows furrowed faintly, but he still didn't speak.
"I wrote you a letter once," Lior confessed, his voice almost a whisper now. "Telling you I was jealous. Asking if… if you'd forget me after a year. I was terrified of the answer. But you wrote back. You said, 'My heart will always have a place for you, no matter who else comes.'" His lips trembled, repeating the words as if they were etched in his bones.
For a moment, Lior's eyes glistened in the dim light, but he quickly looked down, trying to compose himself.
"We never called it love. Maybe we didn't even realize it could be. But for me… just being able to sit beside you was enough. For ten years, we stayed that way. And even after all that time, even after everything we shared… I was still shy around you. That's how much you mattered."
Kaein's chest rose slowly, but he remained silent, every word from Lior sinking deep inside.
"And then we were separated," Lior continued, his voice quieter now, as though his strength was running out. "It was only after that… only after losing you… that I realized I could never find another person like you. That no matter how many people stood beside me, I'd always be searching for the place I already had—with you."
The silence that followed wasn't empty. It was full—of unspoken emotions, of truths laid bare between them.
Kaein finally reached out, not with words, but with the quiet gesture of his hand brushing against Lior's shoulder, steady and grounding. And in that moment, Lior felt the weight of ten years—his fears, his longing, his hidden love—rest lighter than before, because he had finally shared it.