The sky over Nerton that evening looked like a sheet of soaked gray parchment.
Clouds rolled across the heavens like tangled threads in Aerish's mind, and the rain whispered down like secrets she could never bring herself to speak.
It was 5:12 PM when Aerish arrived at the bus stop.
The rain had yet to cease.
In her hand, she held a black umbrella not fully opened. It was less a shield from the rain than a quiet gesture of defense against the world itself.
The bus stop stood at the end of a quiet street, flanked by two small shops dimming their lights for the day.
She sat on the long, rusted iron bench, alone.
Beside her, a shallow puddle reflected the glow of a streetlamp, distorting her silent face as if the world itself was sketching her loneliness anew.
---
To Aerish, the world's mood was always a mirror.
And today, that mirror was bleak.
The gray sky, the damp air, the scent of rain-kissed earth clung to her skin like longing with no home to return to.
She exhaled slowly.
Then opened her notebook.
That worn journal had been her companion for years. Its cover was frayed at the edges, the color faded into a bruised shade of gray.
Inside were no agendas. No plans.
Only the scattered pieces of her soul messy, unfiltered, but honest. Painfully honest.
With chilled fingers, she flipped through pages already filled with ink. Then, she began to write on a fresh one.
Letter by letter, dark blue ink bloomed on the page:
"You once sat here. At this stop.
Headphones on, eyes closedas if the world couldn't touch you.
But I saw you.
Even when you didn't know I was beside you."
---
Then, footsteps shattered the stillness.
The sound of shoes meeting wet asphalt drew her gaze.
She didn't turn her head but her heart knew. Instantly.
Kael.
She could recognize his walk from afar steady, a little hurried, but never frantic.
The kind of walk that carried light unknowingly.
Kael stood just meters away. His hair was damp.
His jacket, creased by the rain.
A book in his hand perhaps one from the university library.
Aerish lowered her gaze.
She didn't want to be seen.
Or maybe... she was more afraid of hoping that he might look.
The space between them was painfully short in distance… and infinitely wide in meaning.
Kael glanced at his phone, unaware. Unknowing.
Still, Aerish stole a glance.
Just a brief, hidden look.
She watched him the way someone inside a dark house looks out a window—seeing the light, but never letting themselves be seen.
---
They had sat together here before.
Back when classes were still hectic, and Kael had taken a seat next to her by chance.
He once asked her about the bus route.
Aerish had simply answered, "Yes. Route 5."
That was it.
But that night, she had filled an entire page about his voice how he said "thank you" with a small, almost shy smile.
How the world felt suspended for a moment... all because of five words.
"Kael, if time were a bus stop,
I would want to wait forever at yours…"
But time never waits.
And Kael never knew.
---
The bus arrived. But Aerish didn't board.
Kael stepped on. The door opened with a soft sigh then closed again.
She watched his back disappear behind a fogged-up window.
And as the bus pulled away, something inside her collapsed quietly, like a wall long cracked finally giving way.
She reached into her bag.
Pulled out a pale yellow slip of paper.
The edges were slightly crumpled. She smoothed it, then began to write.
The ink looked darker than usual.
Maybe it was the rain.
Maybe it was her heart.
"If I had one more day with you,
I'd choose to say nothing at all.
Just sit beside you...
like today."
Aerish slipped the note inside a poetry book she planned to return to the library.
A worn copy of Letters to the Lost.
Maybe, someday, Kael would borrow it.
Maybe, he'd find the note.
And maybe… he'd finally know.
But love spoken in silence lives only in maybes.
---
That Night Aerish's Apartment
"Kael again?" Liora's voice floated from the kitchen, carrying the scent of steeped tea.
Aerish gave a small nod.
"I sat near him," she said quietly. "But like always… he didn't notice."
Liora sat beside her, handing her a warm cup.
"Why don't you just talk to him?"
Aerish watched the steam rise, curling like ghosts above the cup.
"Because… if he knows, I'm afraid he'll pull away."
Liora didn't reply.
She knew her friend wasn't afraid to love.
Aerish had just grown too used to hiding her hurt.
"Sometimes, it's not rejection we fear," Aerish added, her voice hoarse, "but losing the possibility."
---
Silence hung between them.
Rain still fell outside the window.
The world kept turning, but in that small apartment, time stood still.
Only the ticking clock and Aerish's heartbeat filled the space.
She coughed—soft, but long.
Liora glanced over, concern flickering in her eyes.
"You still haven't gone to the doctor?"
Aerish shook her head. "Just a cold. The air's been damp."
But Liora saw more than a seasonal flu.
She saw the dark circles beneath her friend's eyes.
The way her body grew thinner.
The way she sometimes held her chest when she coughed.
Still, she didn't press.
"If you're tired…" Liora started.
But Aerish interrupted with a faint smile.
"My exhaustion isn't from my body.
It's from hoping… in silence."
---
On the desk, her notebook lay open.
A soft breeze from the window flipped the pages.
On one, a line of ink remained still fresh, still trembling:
"I don't want to be remembered as the quiet one.
I want to be remembered as someone who once loved… selflessly.
Who existed, even if never truly seen."
---
The Next Morning
The sky had not changed.
That dull gray still loomed above, reluctant to make way for light.
Rain fell in a softer drizzle, but enough to seep into one's bones.
Aerish walked slowly along the slick sidewalks of Nerton.
Her black umbrella open this time but even it couldn't shield her from the chill within.
She arrived at Linden & Pages, a quiet little bookstore nestled at the end of the block.
Its large windows overflowed with classics, and the scent of old wood gave it a kind of peace the world outside had long forgotten.
Inside, soft classical music drifted from an old radio in the corner.
"Morning, Aerish," came a warm voice Mr. Merrin, the elderly owner, his silver hair glowing under the amber lights.
Aerish nodded gently. "Morning, Mr. Merrin."
She moved to the poetry corner, adjusting tilted spines with a pianist's grace.
Mr. Merrin approached, holding a cup of coffee.
"The poem you left last week… I read it three times," he said quietly.
"The last line about love not wanting to be found—it hurt. But it was beautiful."
Aerish gave a small smile.
"Sometimes… poetry is the only place where I can be honest."
Mr. Merrin looked at her kindly. "Does the person you write about… know?"
She shook her head.
"And maybe… he never has to."
---
Time drifted gently in the bookstore.
Aerish sat behind the counter, jotting down new inventory.
Now and then, her eyes wandered to the fogged-up window.
Then Kael walked in.
Wearing a thick cream-colored jacket, hair damp with morning mist, carrying a bag and a single book.
Her heartbeat sped up but her face remained still.
Kael walked to the counter, smiling as usual.
Warm. Unaware.
"Hey. Returning this," he said, handing over Letters to the Lost the book with her hidden note.
But…
The note was gone.
Aerish's breath caught. Her eyes searched the cover, then flicked to Kael's face.
Did he find it?
Kael said nothing.
He stood quietly, waiting for the return to be processed.
No change in expression.
No hint that he had seen something not printed on the page.
She swallowed.
"It's a good book," Kael said casually.
"Sad… but honest."
Aerish nodded slowly.
"Sometimes… the sad ones are the truest."
---
That Evening
Back in her small room, Aerish wrote again.
The light of dusk scattered softly across her walls.
Rain still tapped against the window.
She filled a new page:
"Today, you came.
Returned the book holding my heart.
But you didn't see it.
Or maybe you did… and chose silence.
And I don't know what hurts more:
Your unawareness…
Or your decision to remain unaware."
---
In the corner of her wooden closet sat a small box.
Inside dozens of folded notes.
Each one about Kael.
Arranged like poems awaiting the right season.
At the bottom, an envelope she had never sent:
To Kael…
Maybe by the time you read this, I'll be no one.
But once I was someone who loved you in the deepest silence.
Never brave enough.
But always there.
Aerish closed the envelope.
She looked out at the night sky.
And for the first time, she asked herself:
How long can love survive… when never spoken aloud?