The encounters didn't stop.
But instead of avoiding them, Eli began to notice the little details.
In the library, when their hands brushed reaching for the same book again, Eli didn't pull away so quickly. He glanced up, and Kai gave him a small, almost shy smile. For the first time, Eli managed to smile back.
"Do you… like history?" Eli asked softly.
Kai nodded. "Only because it reminds me of something important."
The words lingered in Eli's chest long after they parted.
---
On rainy days, Eli didn't even try to bring an umbrella anymore. Somehow, Kai was always there—quietly tilting his umbrella just enough to cover them both. They walked side by side, neither speaking much, but the silence was comfortable. Once, Eli caught Kai looking at him, and instead of looking away, he held his gaze for a moment longer than he meant to.
---
In the garden by the old bench, Eli sketched while Kai sat nearby, pretending to read. Occasionally, Kai would glance over.
"That's good," Kai said one afternoon, pointing to the half-finished sketch of the flowers.
Eli's ears warmed. "It's not finished."
Kai's smile was faint, but steady. "Still. I like it."
---
Little by little, the awkwardness began to melt. The greetings became natural. The small talks stretched longer. And the smiles—those quiet, knowing smiles—started to feel like the beginning of something Eli couldn't explain.
The dreams still haunted him at night. But in the day, those echoes felt less frightening. Because this time, Kai was here. Real. Close enough to touch.
And Eli wasn't sure if he wanted to run from it anymore.