The library was quieter than usual. Most of the students had already left, leaving only a few stragglers buried in their own work. Brian sat across from Alex, flipping through their final notes for the presentation.
"Think we've covered everything?" Alex asked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed casually. He looked relaxed — the kind of relaxed that made Brian feel like he'd been holding his breath for hours without realizing it.
"I think so," Brian said. "We've got the causes, the key events, the outcomes… maybe just a few more details on the Reign of Terror."
Alex nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'll handle that part. You're good at… explaining stuff without sounding boring. I owe you a ton, you know."
Brian's cheeks heated. "I… it's fine. We both did it."
Alex smirked. "Sure, sure. But mostly you."
For a moment, Brian caught himself staring, and Alex didn't look away. There was an easy comfort between them now, a rhythm they'd built over weeks of meetings, awkward silences, and shared laughter. Brian had stopped counting the number of times he'd tripped over words or nearly spilled coffee, and somehow Alex never made him feel small for it.
"So," Alex said, tapping his pencil against the notebook, "we're presenting tomorrow. You ready for an audience of thirty plus people who might actually care about the French Revolution?"
Brian swallowed, a small, nervous laugh escaping. "I think so. Maybe."
Alex leaned forward, elbows on the table, a grin playing at his lips. "Hey… don't worry. I'll make sure you don't trip on the first sentence or anything."
Brian felt his stomach do a little flip. "Thanks," he murmured.
A few minutes of quiet followed, just the sound of pages flipping and pens scratching. Then Alex leaned back, stretching, and looked at Brian with something softer in his expression — something that wasn't teasing or casual, just… attention.
"You know," Alex said, "working with you has been… actually kind of fun."
Brian blinked. "Fun?"
"Yeah. I mean it," Alex said, shrugging like it was no big deal. "I usually dread projects. But you make it… easier. Comfortable, you know?"
Brian felt heat rise in his chest. He wanted to smile, to say something witty, but instead he just nodded. "I… yeah. I know what you mean."
Alex's grin softened, just slightly, and for a moment, the library felt like it was theirs alone. Not just a room full of books and tables, not just a project, not just a deadline. Just the two of them, and the quiet understanding that had grown between them.
Brian realized he didn't want this to end — not the project, not this feeling, not the easy way Alex made him feel seen.
But tomorrow, it would end. And the hallways would be the same as always. And yet… he knew something had shifted. Something small, quiet, but significant.
Then Brian's phone buzzed. The sudden sound sliced through the quiet like a knife.
He glanced at the screen and froze. His father's name flashed back at him. The small smile he'd been holding vanished.
"I… uh, I need to take this," he muttered, fumbling to stand.
Alex raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Brian walked to a quieter corner of the library and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
The voice on the other end was slurred and uneven. Just like always. His father had been drinking again.
Brian let out a long, weary sigh, leaning against the wall. He closed his eyes for a second, bracing himself. Listening, as usual, meant holding his own frustrations in check.
When he finally hung up, he ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath.
Alex was standing nearby now. "You okay?" he asked softly, like it wasn't just a courtesy.
Brian forced a small smile, nodding. "Yeah. I'm fine."
But Alex could tell that Brian was lying.
He gathered his notes slowly, not ready to leave, not ready to let go of those quiet moments with Alex.
Maybe tomorrow wouldn't be normal. Maybe it couldn't be anymore.
And for now, that small, fragile maybe was enough.