The silence in the car wasn't awkward — just heavy, like both of them were thinking too many things at once. The city rolled by outside — the pale wash of passing headlights and the muted hum of traffic.
After a few minutes, Kyle spoke, voice low. "So what really happened?"
Raye stayed quiet, staring at her reflection in the window. "It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
She turned to him. "Why?"
He didn't look away from the road, his jaw flexing slightly as if searching for words. "Because you don't deserve that. Not what they did...also can you stop asking that question every single time ".
Raye shut her lips tight a small smile tugged across.
This boy was really messing with her she thought rolling her eyes tiredly .
Raye's throat tightened. "You don't even know the full story."
"I don't need to," he said simply.
Something in his tone made her chest ache again. She looked down, fingers gripping her bag tighter. "They thought I destroyed the archive room," she murmured. "All those old university files, the new audio machine… everything. But I didn't. Danielle—" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "Never mind."
Kyle's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "You don't have to protect anyone."
"I'm not," she said quietly. "I just don't want to sound pathetic."
Kyle's gaze flicked toward her again, briefly, intense. "You couldn't sound pathetic if you tried."
Raye let out a weak laugh. "That's a terrible compliment."
"Wasn't trying to make one," he muttered.
The car fell silent again, the tension shifting — not uncomfortable, just… charged. Raye leaned her head slightly against the seat, eyes half-closed. The low hum of the car, the faint bass of the radio, the sound of rain starting to tap against the windshield — it all felt surreal.
Then, without warning, Kyle reached over and adjusted the heater, his hand brushing hers. It was brief — barely a second — but enough to send heat crawling up her neck.
She tried to act normal.
Failed.
"You always drive in silence?"
"Sometimes," he said. "You learn more about people that way."
She smiled faintly. "And what did you learn about me, Mr. Observer?"
He turned slightly, his eyes catching the passing streetlight. "That you overthink too much. And that you trust people who don't deserve it."
That hit too close. She didn't respond, just stared at the glowing rain on the window.
Raye moved her eyes slowly to stare at Kyle who was concentrating so much in driving .
She wondered how he was able to read her so perfectly well , while she only knew limited information about him ...which was what everyone else knew.
A few minutes later, the car slowed to a stop in front of her apartment. She frowned. "Wait… how did you know where I live?"
Kyle smirked faintly, tapping the steering wheel. " Remember I walked you home the last time ".
Raye muttered an o , cheeks flaming in embarrassment as she quickly cleared her throat .
How could she have forgotten that ...not like she did though , she just has too much thoughts running through her head .
He finally turned toward her, eyes locked on hers. "You're welcome, by the way."
Her lips parted slightly. "For what?"
"For making sure you got home safe."
She looked down at her lap, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks."
He leaned slightly closer, voice dropping. "And next time… answer your phone, Raye."
Before she could respond, the rain picked up, drumming harder against the roof. She glanced toward her door, then back at him.
Muttering another thank you Raye stepped out of the car , the rain poured down but she didn't bother to hurry inside her house , too tired to move a feet .
She had already take a few step when she turned back to see Kyle car still parked in front of her house and him watching her intently .
She gulped softly .
"Aren't you going to leave " Raye asked meekly twirling her foot on the pavement .
"I want to watch you enter into your house " Kyle said still staring at her as Raye nodded her cheeks taking a shade of pink .
She would soon get a heart attack because of this guy . She thought huffing quietly as she resumed her walk .
When Raye got in front of her door she sighed in relive her hair was completely wet which stuck at the side of her face so as her shirt .
The rain sure knew when to fall she thought staring at the cloudy weather which didn't seem like the rain would stop anytime soon .
Raye sighed as she tried to find her keys inside her purse but couldn't find it .
She frowned , checking through her purse but then -.
"Oh no."
"What's wrong?"
"Ahhh " Raye shouted turned back to see Kyle standing beside her with a frown while her eyes was wide open .
"Sorry about that , I came to check up on you , what's wrong " he asked again. Raye stared at him cautiously sighing in relief.
He really gave her a fright by sneaking up on her .
She patted her pockets, her bag — nothing. "My keys," she said, voice tight. "I left my spare key inside. I was in such a hurry this morning, I didn't think—"
Kyle leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "So you're locked out."
She nodded miserably. "Yeah."
He sighed — not annoyed, just thoughtful. "Come on."
"What?"
He looked at her. "You can't stay out here all night. Come with me."
Raye blinked. "To your place?"
He smirked faintly, just the corner of his lips lifting. "You got another option?"
She hesitated, glancing at her phone, the empty hallway, then back at him. His expression wasn't teasing this time — it was calm, certain.
Raye was still standing in the rain while Kyle had already taken a few steps away from her .
He tilted his head, then exhaled softly. "Get back in. You're not staying out here."
Her eyes widened. "Kyle—"
He didn't even let her finish. "I said get back in." His tone was calm, but firm — that same steady, confident edge that always left her speechless.
After a long pause, she sighed and slid back into the passenger seat, clutching her bag. Kyle shifted gears and started driving again.
"To my place," he said simply.
She didn't argue this time.
Outside, the rain blurred the streetlights into gold streaks as the car disappeared into the night. Inside, silence filled the air — not empty this time, but heavy with everything they hadn't said.