The train pulled in right on time, brakes shrieking softly before the final jolt settled into stillness, and the three of them moved with the current of passengers flooding toward the doors.
Noah and Evelyn's seats, as expected, were side by side. Lila's was several rows back, far enough that she might as well have been on a different train.
The car stayed relatively quiet once everyone settled in, just the low murmur of conversation carried carefully under people's breath. Noah had the window seat. Evelyn sat beside him, lowered the small tray table, and opened a thick textbook across it.
He glanced down without meaning to. Introduction to Psychology: Understanding Thought and Behavior was printed neatly at the bottom of the page. Dense paragraphs filled the margins, every line packed tight, enough to make his head ache just looking at it.
She read with complete focus. From the moment they'd stepped out of the taxi, she had barely spoken to him. The silence pressed on him, subtle but unmistakable, and a thread of unease began winding through his chest.
He studied her profile instead. When she was serious like this, she looked almost unreal—long lashes casting faint shadows, skin pale and smooth, posture straight and composed. The fitted black sweater traced her shape cleanly, elegant without trying, the line of her neck long and pale against the fabric.
He swallowed, then leaned a little closer, lowering his voice.
"Are you still mad?"
Without looking at him, she turned a page. "Do you know why I haven't been talking to you?"
He shook his head.
She flicked him a glance at last, the corner of her mouth lifting in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Because if I start, I might forget we're in public. I'd hate to embarrass you in front of everyone."
His stomach dropped.
"I didn't do anything that bad," he muttered quickly. "The driver misunderstood. It's not like—"
"But I'm still upset," she cut in softly. "So tell me, Nate… what should I do about that?"
She had a way of turning things, of placing him gently into the center of a question that wasn't his to answer.
"You're not… actually going to punish me, right?" he asked, already uncertain.
"Unless," she said lightly, her hand drifting down to rest on his thigh, her thumb tracing slow circles through the fabric of his jeans, "you have a better idea."
His breath caught.
"Anything's better than that," he said quickly, trying to laugh it off. "I'll take whatever the alternative is."
Her lips curved, deliberate, controlled. "That's what you said. Don't take it back later."
She turned back to her book as if nothing had happened.
Behind them, Lila stared out at the landscape flashing past the window. City blocks dissolved into suburbs, suburbs into open fields and scattered trees, the sky gradually stretching wider and quieter. The further they traveled from the city, the calmer everything looked.
She felt anything but calm.
She couldn't see them clearly from where she sat. Couldn't see what they were doing. That distance gnawed at her.
She tried to nap, resting her head against the glass, but it was cold and unforgiving. She wasn't used to sleeping without a shoulder to lean on, without the steady warmth she'd once taken for granted.
Back then, she had never worried. They had time. They would end up together. There was no need to treasure every small moment.
Now, thinking back, she could count every careless word, every time she'd brushed off his effort, embarrassed him in public, treated his care like something automatic and permanent.
Recognition came slowly. Regret came too late.
By the time the train pulled into the station near dusk, she felt hollow.
They stepped off with the crowd. Noah walked beside Evelyn, occasionally glancing back to make sure Lila was still behind them. Lila tried to push forward, tried to close the gap, but the flow of people kept swallowing the space between them. Every time she got closer, someone cut through, someone slowed her down, someone shifted just enough to separate them again.
Outside the station, they still had a long bus ride ahead.
By the time they boarded, night had fully settled. The bus was nearly empty, just a couple of late commuters scattered toward the front.
Evelyn didn't hesitate. She guided Noah into the seats near the back, taking the window this time, pulling him down beside her. Lila, after a small pause, chose a seat ahead of them.
The bus rolled through quiet roads, the hum of the engine steady, the faint chorus of insects drifting in from open stretches of countryside. It felt almost peaceful.
Noah's exhaustion finally caught up with him. He had barely slept on the train. He yawned, blinking hard, his head gradually tipping sideways until it rested against Evelyn's shoulder.
Her hand came up at once, smoothing over his hair.
"Want to lie down?" she murmured. "No one's back here."
"I'm fine," he muttered, eyes already closed. "You're too bony anyway."
She let out a soft breath of amusement. "I'm only thin where it matters. That's called being in shape."
He half-laughed. "Body fat under twenty-five percent messes things up, you know."
"I'm safely above the danger zone," she replied calmly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "You're the one who needs to eat more. Exercise more. Though I suppose… I'll be watching you from now on."
"Mm," he murmured, drifting. "Did we forget to bring anything back?"
"I packed what we need," she said. "Don't worry."
He exhaled slowly. "Night, Evelyn."
"Goodnight, idiot."
His body slackened completely. When he tipped forward, she caught him, guiding him down so his head rested against her lap instead. She adjusted him carefully, fingers smoothing his collar where it had twisted, her touch light but lingering.
He never stirred.
He trusted her without hesitation, as if his entire life could be placed in her hands without question.
That was what frightened her.
Ahead of them, Lila had fallen asleep too, her head knocking lightly against the cold window every so often. She shivered.
Evelyn blinked once, expression unreadable.
She didn't want to hate Lila. She didn't want to feel this constant, simmering hostility. But Noah wasn't something she could share. He wasn't something anyone else was allowed to reach for.
He had to remain untouched, unclaimed by anyone else, marked quietly and completely by her presence alone.
Outside, the town lay wrapped in darkness. Scattered lights flickered along the roadside, storefronts glowing faintly as the bus slowed.
They had arrived.
—
The moment he opened his eyes, the familiar, modest layout of the room made Noah pause. After months of sleeping in a dorm, his brain took a second to catch up. He rubbed his eyes, pushed himself upright, and slowly came fully awake.
It was already the second day of the holiday break. Just like always, he'd woken early. The morning sun had barely climbed into the sky, its light still too low to clear the windowsill.
A slender, pale hand suddenly slid out from beneath the blanket and pressed him back down, tugging him with surprising strength as a long, warm leg draped over his waist.
"Don't move," Evelyn murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "Let your sister rest a little longer."
"Eve?" he whispered, startled. "When did you come in here?"
"Middle of the night," she said lazily, leaning in close, her voice soft and almost childish. "I work so hard. I deserve extra sleep."
He glanced down. She was wearing a black off-the-shoulder sweater and fitted shorts, clothes she definitely hadn't slept in.
She followed his gaze and smiled. "Kidding. I came early this morning. You woke up too soon, so I'm stealing a second round."
"Mom's home," he reminded her under his breath.
"Are you worried she'll notice?"
"I haven't told her about the breakup yet," he said quietly. "Lila probably hasn't either. I don't want her stressing over it."
"Then," Evelyn said gently, her tone all sweetness, "we just can't let her find out."
Her hand slipped beneath his shirt as she spoke, warm fingers pressing against his stomach, moving slowly, deliberately.
"Eve…"
"I'm just warming my hands," she said innocently. "You're nice and warm."
"It tickles," he protested, trying not to squirm as the sensation crept higher, sending an uncomfortable shiver up his spine.
A knock sounded at the door.
Noah froze.
"Sweetheart," his mother's voice called from the hallway, warm and familiar, "time to get up for breakfast."
"Got it, Mom, I'll—"
Evelyn brushed her fingers lightly over a sensitive spot, and he broke off with an involuntary laugh.
"Noah?" his mother asked, puzzled. "What was that?"
"Nothing," he said quickly. "I'm getting up now."
"Alright. And have you seen your sister? I didn't see her this morning."
He looked at Evelyn. She was grinning at him, playful and entirely unrepentant.
"Uh… she probably went out for a morning run," he said.
"Oh, I see. Tell her breakfast won't wait."
"Okay."
When the footsteps faded, he finally let out a breath, lowering his voice. "Eve, we really need to get up. You're going to get caught."
"Alright, alright," she said, slipping out of bed. "I'm going."
She moved quietly, effortlessly. When it came to things that mattered, she never actually crossed a line she couldn't step back from. It was one of the things he admired about her—how she always seemed to know exactly how far she could go.
They made it to the table without incident. It had been a long time since they'd eaten their mother's cooking. Evelyn offered to help, but their mother insisted on making breakfast herself.
The shredded potatoes were freshly stir-fried. The porridge was thin and warm, perfect for the cooling weather. Noah felt his shoulders relax as the heat settled into his stomach.
His mother set half a fried dough stick into his bowl and asked casually, "How have you been doing at school? Have you been listening to your sister?"
She trusted Evelyn more. Always had.
"Am I really that bad?" Noah joked. "You're still worried about me?"
"You never know," she replied. "Kids change."
"He's been fine," Evelyn said smoothly, shooting Noah a look and smiling in a way that made his stomach tighten. "Mostly."
They sat across from each other. Beneath the table, her leg brushed his knee in time with her words. He flinched slightly and glanced at her, silently begging her to stop.
"Mostly," she continued calmly, "he just zones out in my class sometimes. I end up tutoring him after."
"Well, that won't do," their mother said. "You shouldn't be bothering your sister all the time."
"I know, I know," Noah said quickly.
"And money," she added. "Are you two managing okay? You both keep saying you're fine, but Eve even sends money back sometimes. You really don't need help?"
"We're fine," Noah reassured her. "There's not much to spend on."
"Still. If anything comes up, you tell me."
They were used to her worrying. It was part of the house, part of the air itself.
After breakfast, the sun had climbed higher, light spilling into the kitchen. They washed the dishes together, then decided to head out to pick up groceries for the next few days.
Evelyn changed into dark pants and heavy boots, the look clean and mature without losing its youthful edge.
Outside, the street market was in full swing. Vendors lined the road, shouting through tinny speakers, frying oil and sugar hanging thick in the air. The crowd pressed close, shoulder to shoulder.
Most of the produce sellers were older locals. Evelyn didn't haggle much. She chose carefully, paid promptly, especially when vendors complimented her—or mistook her and Noah for a couple.
"What are you staring at?" she asked, dropping vegetables into a canvas bag and ruffling his hair when he drifted off.
He smiled vaguely. "Just looking around. Seeing if there are any cute people."
Her expression snapped sharp. "Looking for cute people?" she said, mock-threatening. "You want to make me jealous? The best-looking one is standing right next to you."
"I was joking," he said quickly. "I meant familiar faces."
She didn't look convinced. "We'll settle that later."
She tugged him forward toward the food stalls, the scent of fried snacks thick enough to make his stomach growl again.
In the crowd, a familiar figure turned. Noah recognized her instantly.
Lila was walking with her mother. The woman spotted them first and smiled warmly.
"Noah, Evelyn," she called. "Out shopping too?"