The sunlight slipped through the curtains, soft and golden, brushing against the quiet room. Lior stirred first, blinking slowly as he sat up on the bed. His chest still felt heavy with the words he had spoken last night, but lighter too — because Kaein had listened, really listened, without turning away.
For a moment, he thought it had been a dream. But then he saw Kaein on the floor beside the bed, still asleep, his arm curled under his head, lips slightly parted like he had fallen asleep while thinking too hard.
Something inside Lior twisted. He wanted to reach out, to brush back the strands of hair falling across Kaein's forehead. But his hand only hovered in the air before he pulled it back. Some lines he couldn't cross, even if his heart longed to.
Kaein stirred not long after, eyes heavy with sleep. He blinked at Lior for a second before a faint smile touched his lips.
"You're awake early," he mumbled, stretching.
"I couldn't sleep more," Lior admitted quietly. He hesitated, then added, "Thanks… for last night."
Kaein sat up fully, rubbing his eyes. His voice was casual, but his gaze lingered on Lior with a softness he didn't try to hide.
"You don't need to thank me. I should be the one thanking you."
They didn't talk more about it. They didn't need to. The silence between them was no longer heavy like before — it was gentle, comfortable.
When they went downstairs, the world carried on as if nothing had changed. But in the way Kaein poured an extra spoon of sugar into Lior's tea without asking, in the way Lior slowed his steps so Kaein could walk beside him, in the way their shoulders brushed and neither moved away — something had changed.
Kaein's thoughts followed him quietly as they ate. He glanced at Lior across the table, the sunlight painting sharp lines across his face.
It's strange… he thought. How much space he takes up in me without even trying.
He remembered the first time he had really noticed Lior, back when he was still just "that quiet topper" everyone either admired from afar or avoided because he seemed too cold. Kaein had wanted to talk to him, desperately even, but the only topic he had dared to use was study. It felt pathetic, pretending to be interested in equations he didn't care about, just for an excuse to stay in Lior's orbit.
But back then, Lior had surprised him. Instead of brushing him off like he did with others, he had answered, not warmly, but not coldly either. That little gap — that one conversation — had been enough for Kaein to cling to for months.
For a year, he had buried his feelings. Lior seemed so unreachable, so out of his league. He was the boy everyone looked at, but no one could touch. And Kaein, just another face in the crowd, thought it was impossible.
Still, he studied harder. Not only because he wanted to prove himself, but because he wanted something to keep him standing beside Lior. He had been jealous too — jealous of those who could talk to Lior without hesitation, jealous of toppers who earned his respect so easily.
If I can't be his friend, he had thought, then maybe I can at least be his equal.
And then, one day, he took the chance — a chance that could have ended in rejection. He had asked to study together. He still remembered the way his chest had pounded, the way his palms had sweated. He expected the cold silence Lior often gave to others. But instead, Lior had agreed. Just like that.
Kaein had been stunned. And maybe, from that day, he had started believing that no matter how distant Lior seemed to others, there was a place for him by his side.
Now, watching Lior quietly sip his tea, Kaein felt the same warmth return. They didn't need to confess. They didn't need the words. Just being here, being allowed this closeness, was enough.
Lior glanced up suddenly, catching Kaein staring. His brows rose.
"What?"
"Nothing," Kaein replied quickly, covering his mouth with his cup. But in his chest, his heart whispered all the words he couldn't say aloud.
Even if you never speak it, I know I belong to you. And somehow, you belong to me too.
They weren't just friends. They weren't lovers either.
They were something in between, something unspoken but unbreakable.
And for now, that was enough.