It had been three days since that afternoon in the café.
Three days since Alex had looked at Kyle like he almost saw something — like he might finally be noticing what Kyle had been hiding all this time.
But nothing had changed.
No late-night confessions.
No apologies.
No new texts asking if he was okay.
Just silence.
And Kyle had learned to live with silence. It was safer than hope.
---
The architecture studio was cold, even in the afternoon. Sunlight streamed through the large glass windows, bouncing off drafting tables and unfinished models. Kyle sat at his usual spot, hunched over blueprints for their midterm project. Pencil in hand, music in his ears, he tried to focus.
But his eyes kept drifting. To the door. To the clock. To his phone.
Don't be stupid, he told himself. Don't wait.
Yet every time someone walked in, his heart jumped — hoping, praying.
Until finally, he saw him.
Alex Reyes, in a black hoodie and jeans, hair messy, backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder. He looked like he hadn't slept well. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on Kyle.
He smiled — the same smile that had ruined Kyle's entire life.
"Hey," Alex said, sliding into the chair beside him.
Kyle took off his earphones slowly. "You're not in this class."
"I know," Alex said, grinning. "I was just… bored."
Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Bored enough to hang out in an architecture studio?"
"Bored enough to want to see you."
Kyle's heart skipped.
Again.
And again.
He hated that it still did that.
"What's going on?" Kyle asked carefully, pretending to erase something from his blueprint.
Alex shrugged. "I don't know. I guess… everything's just weird right now."
He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "Chelsea texted me. She wants to meet."
Kyle stayed quiet. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to say anything.
"She said she wants closure," Alex went on, voice tired. "But I don't even know what that means."
"It means she's still not over you," Kyle murmured.
Alex turned to him. "Would that be a bad thing?"
Kyle swallowed, hard. "I don't know. Depends if you are."
There was a pause — just long enough to feel heavy.
Then Alex leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, face closer than it should be.
"You ever feel like… like maybe you made the wrong choice, but it's too late to fix it?"
Kyle met his gaze, frozen. "What do you mean?"
Alex didn't answer right away.
Instead, he said, "You've always been there. Ever since we were kids. I think I just never realized how much that meant."
Kyle's hands clenched the pencil tightly.
> Don't hope. Don't read into it. Don't fall again.
"I was just doing what friends do," Kyle said softly.
Alex looked at him — searching his eyes.
"But you're not just any friend."
Kyle blinked. "Alex…"
Before he could say more, their professor entered the room, loud and commanding. The spell was broken instantly.
Alex stood. "I should go. Don't want to get you in trouble."
Kyle watched as he walked away without another word.
And all he could think was:
> You say all the right things —
But why do they always come at the wrong time?
---
That night, Kyle lay in bed staring at the ceiling, his phone glowing beside him.
A new message lit up.
Alex: Are you awake?
Kyle hesitated… then typed back:
Kyle: Yeah.
Alex: Can I ask you something?
Kyle: Sure.
There was a long pause before the next message came.
Alex: Have you ever been in love with your best friend?
Kyle stared at the screen, breath caught in his throat.
He didn't know if he wanted to answer.
He didn't know if he could.
He typed. Deleted. Typed again.
Kyle: Yes. I still am.
Then he stared at it — unsent.
Instead, he replied:
Kyle: Why do you ask?
Alex was typing.
Then…
Alex: No reason. Goodnight.
And just like that, Kyle was left again — holding words he couldn't say.
---