Chloe told herself she didn't care.
She repeated it like a mantra as she walked across campus that evening, her steps steady, her face composed, her shoulders squared in the way she'd trained herself to stand whenever she felt exposed. If anyone looked at her, they wouldn't see the quiet ache blooming beneath her ribs. They wouldn't see the way her chest tightened when she passed the courtyard where she and Aria used to sit together, sharing headphones, laughing over nothing.
She didn't care.
Except she did.
The realization came in pieces. In moments she hadn't prepared for.
Like when she reached for her phone out of habit, thumb hovering over Aria's name before she caught herself and locked the screen instead. Or when she heard a laugh across the quad that sounded too much like hers. Or when she caught herself remembering the way Aria used to listen really listen like Chloe mattered more than whatever chaos surrounded them.
She missed her.
But pride was a stubborn thing.
Chloe refused to be the first to soften. Refused to admit that distance didn't feel like power it felt like loss. So she swallowed it all, buried it under indifference, and walked away from the places that reminded her too much.
Across the city, Aria stood in front of her mirror, adjusting the hem of her jacket.
Night had settled in gently, the kind of evening that felt calm instead of heavy. She liked nights like this. They made her feel untethered, like the world expected less from her after dark.
She'd changed after her shower into fitted jeans and a simple top, hair loose, makeup minimal. When she checked her reflection, she didn't recognize the girl staring back completely. There was something different in her eyes restless, expectant.
Her phone buzzed.
I'm outside. Liam
Her heart skipped.
She grabbed her keys and stepped out into the cool night air. Liam leaned against his car, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but alert, like he'd been waiting longer than he'd admit.
"You ready?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yeah."
The drive started quietly.
Music hummed low through the speakers, the city lights streaking past the windows. Aria rested her elbow against the door, watching the road reflect across the windshield. There was something intimate about silence shared willingly.
"Long day?" Liam asked.
She smiled faintly. "Emotionally exhausting."
He glanced at her. "Yeah. I figured."
They drove without destination for a while, just letting the city breathe around them. Eventually, Liam pulled into a quiet overlook, the skyline stretching out below like a field of scattered stars.
He turned the engine off.
The sudden stillness felt loud.
Aria exhaled. "This is nice."
"I thought you might like it," he said.
They stayed in their seats at first, facing forward. The air between them felt charged, dense with words neither had spoken yet.
Liam turned slightly toward her. "Can I ask you something?"
She met his gaze. "Okay."
"Are you okay with this?" he asked softly. "With… us. The looks. The tension. The questions people aren't asking out loud."
She thought about Chloe. About whispers. About how visible everything felt lately.
"I don't know if I'm okay with everything," she admitted. "But I'm okay with you."
Something shifted in his expression something warm and dangerous all at once.
He reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away.
She didn't.
His fingers brushed her cheek, knuckles grazing her jaw in a touch so light it made her breath hitch. He leaned in just enough that she could feel his warmth, his presence filling the small space between them.
Their first kiss was soft.
Careful.
Lips barely touching, like they were testing something fragile. Aria closed her eyes, melting into the familiarity of it, into the comfort of being chosen in that moment.
When he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against hers.
"Tell me if I should stop," he murmured.
She shook her head.
So he kissed her again this time slower, deeper. His hand slid to the back of her neck, thumb brushing along her skin as if memorizing her. Aria responded instinctively, her lips parting, her hand curling into the fabric of his jacket.
The kiss lingered, unhurried but charged, like something that had been waiting too long.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing differently.
Liam laughed softly under his breath. "Yeah," he said. "That was… yeah."
She smiled, cheeks warm. "You're not subtle."
"Never claimed to be."
He kissed her again, harder this time not rough, but intentional. The kind of kiss that spoke of want instead of curiosity. Aria leaned into him, the seatbelt pressing against her side, the window cool beneath her fingers.
The world outside the car disappeared.
There was only the warmth of his mouth, the way his hand slid from her neck to her waist, holding her there like he meant it. She kissed him back just as fiercely, months of confusion and restraint pouring into the moment.
When they pulled apart again, the silence felt heavier thick with everything they weren't saying.
"I should take you home," Liam said finally, voice low.
She nodded, though part of her wished he wouldn't.
The drive back was quieter, but not awkward. Aria watched the city lights again, her reflection faint in the glass lips swollen, eyes bright, heart racing.
When they reached her apartment, Liam parked and turned toward her.
"I don't want to rush you," he said. "Or this."
She reached out, fingers brushing his hand. "I know."
He leaned in and kissed her once more soft again, grounding. Then one last time, deeper, slower, like a promise held between breaths.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested against hers.
"Good night, Aria."
"Drive safe," she whispered.
She stepped out of the car, watching him leave before she turned toward her building. Inside her apartment, the silence greeted her, but it felt different tonight. Lighter. Fuller.
She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the night the way he'd looked at her, the way he'd kissed her like she mattered.
Across the city, Chloe sat on her bed, phone in her hands.
She stared at Aria's name.
Then locked the screen.
She missed her.
But some things were harder to say than to feel.
And the night carried all of it unspoken longing, soft regret, and the quiet certainty that nothing between them was simple anymore.