Mid morning. Sunlight spills through the windows as the class sits in silence.
The teacher keeps talking. Luke isn't listening. He just stares out the window—until something appears in his side vision.
A thread. Gold.
It's coming from Lily—one of their classmates, sitting two seats behind him. The thread stretches across the room, pulsing gently, connecting her to a boy too busy flirting with someone else.
Luke squints. Watches. The gold thread doesn't fade—it intensifies.
"She's obsessed," he murmurs. "Yet he doesn't even know."
Cael, leaning back in his chair beside Luke, nudges him.
"You seeing someone's emotions again?" Cael asks, grinning. "Must be nice seeing who's in love with who."
Luke shrugs. "Not really."
Cael chuckles and leans back further, unfazed.
Luke doesn't laugh back. Because the boy at the end of that thread? He never looks back.
And Lily? She never stops hoping.
Every time the boy leans a little closer to someone else, her eyes flinch—barely, but enough. She doesn't say a word. Just keeps her hands folded neatly on her desk, shoulders stiff with practiced calm.
Luke's seen that kind of stillness before. It's not peace. It's waiting. Waiting for a glance. A smile. Anything.
But it never comes.
The gold thread tugs from her chest like it's trying to pull the boy toward her, like love alone could be enough to close the gap. But she's the only one fighting, and he doesn't even know there's a war.
Luke watches her. The way her eyes follow someone who never looks back. The way her fingers stay still, like moving might make it real. He knows that feeling. That kind of love doesn't burn. It just... lingers. Makes promises it can't keep.
His gaze lingers a little longer. Then, he turns back around, but he can't shake it.
During break, he finds himself walking past her desk. She's alone. Still watching the boy from afar. Luke pauses.
"You know he's not going to notice you, right?" he says quietly.
She blinks, startled. "What?"
Luke gestures subtly at the thread only he can see.
"He's kind of an idiot, you know." he says, low. "Doesn't even see what's right in front of him."
She blinks. "How did you..?"
Luke shrugs, like it's nothing. "Just… saw how you looked at him."
She stares at him now—eyes sharp, cheeks going pink. "You spying on me or something?"
"Nah," Luke says. "Just observant."
She narrows her eyes. "You're weird."
"Been told."
Then suddenly she leans back in her chair and yells,"Lukeeee!"
Luke flinches. "What now?"
She grins behind her hands. "Nothing. Just had to scream a little."
He starts walking off. Tosses a glance back. "Don't worry. I didn't see anything."
She peeks through her fingers. "You better not say anything either."
"Wasn't planning to."
Hallway. After class.
Luke trails behind Cael, watching the back of his head. Still no thread. Still hoping.
Cael turns around mid-step, walking backwards now. "Wanna grab coffee?"
Luke lifts a brow. "Your treat?"
Cael snorts. "Bold of you to assume I have money."
"You asked me."
"You're the one who always says yes."
Luke shrugs. "Poor life choices. What else is new?"
They round a corner. Someone brushes past. Cael doesn't stop walking.
"I know you'd miss me if I stopped asking."
Luke scoffs. "You're too confident"
"Of course I am."
They step into the café. Bells chime. Smells like cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee.
Cael immediately cuts to the counter. "You want the usual?"
Luke pretends to think. "Double-shot, one sugar, no judgment."
Cael orders. Pays. Luke raises a brow.
"You actually paid?"
"I'm feeling generous."
"You're setting me up for something."
Cael hands over the drink. "Just proving a point."
"What point?"
"That you can never say no to me."
Luke sips, eyes narrowing. "Keep saying it like it means something."
Cael leans in, smile crooked. "Maybe it does."
Cael grins and walks toward a table in the corner. Luke follows, still suspicious.
They sit. Elbows on the table. Cup between them like a peace offering.
Cael leans back. "You really wouldn't miss me if I stopped showing up?"
Luke doesn't look at him. "Don't test me."
"You sit next to me every day."
"That's proximity, not preference."
"Uh-huh. And you let me steal your food."
"I tolerate you. That's different."
Cael's smile fades just a little. "Sure."
A beat. Quiet.
Luke stirs his coffee, eyes on the swirl. "Why do you keep saying that?"
"Saying what?"
"That I can't say no to you. You're way too confident Cael"
Cael leans forward again, resting his chin in his hand. "Because you do. Even when you pretend you won't."
Luke scoffs. "You're not that charming."
"Oh really Luke?"
Luke takes another sip to avoid answering.
Cael watches him for a second, then kicks his shoe under the table. Light, familiar.
Luke glances up.
"You look like you can actually push me through a cliff?" Cael says.
"What?"
"If I was being a dick. You'd shove me. Dramatically. Like in a drama."
Luke snorts. "If I did, I'd pretend it was an accident."
"Wow, Just Wow."
Luke grins. "Exactly."
They both go quiet for a moment. The café hums around them—soft music, low chatter, clinking mugs.
Cael picks up his cup. "Still worth it, by the way."
"What is?"
"Buying yours. If it means you keep walking with me."
Luke blinks. "You're not that deep."
Cael shrugs, smiling into his drink. "You're not that shallow."
Luke doesn't reply. Just watches him for a second too long.
Then looks away.
And says nothing.
Sunset. Streets.
Luke walks home.
Then he sees it.
A red thread, snaking out from a small house. Tangled. Violent. Alive.
He stops.
Shouting from inside. A woman's voice, shrill. A man, louder. Something shatters.
The threads wrap around them like barbed wire.
"Hate. Pure, old, familiar."
He wants to walk away.
But he can't.
Just stands there, paralyzed.
The door swings open.
A kid steps outside. Five, maybe six. Barefoot, still. Arms crossed like a shield.
No thread.
Luke's breath hitches.
Nothing. No fear. No sadness. Not even anger.
Just blank.
Like it's normal.
Luke swallows hard. His hands feel cold. Useless.
He wants to say something. Do something. He doesn't move.
The kid looks around, then sits on the front step like it's a routine. Like this is just another Tuesday.
The house behind him keeps yelling.
Luke turns away.
Gets on his bike.
Starts pedaling—too fast, like distance could shake the image out of his skull.
But it sticks.
The silence. The stillness. The absence of feeling in someone so small.
Like he shut down so quietly, the world didn't even blink.
He rides harder.
Later that night. Luke's room.
He lies in bed, eyes open.
The dark presses in—quiet, too quiet. He shifts, turns. Nothing helps.
The ceiling stares back.
He reaches for his phone. Checks it. Nothing from Cael.
He flips it over. Face down.
Silence again.
He glances at the photo on the wall—him and Cael at the beach, grinning, sunburnt, young.
No thread in the picture.
Of course not.
He looks a little longer anyway.
Then rolls over. Pulls the blanket up.
And waits for morning.
| "I see what people feel. But no one sees what I do."