Weeks passed, and it became routine.
Not something either of them had planned, but something that naturally unfolded—like raindrops trailing down the same windowpane, destined to touch for just a second before sliding away again.
Riven would text Eli during breaks in class. Eli would send photos of random sketches or sleepy selfies with captions like "Still alive. Barely." They weren't a couple. They weren't even sure what they were.
But there was something between them. A rhythm. A space only the two of them understood.
It was on a quiet Thursday afternoon when Eli received a voice message instead of the usual text.
He was in the art studio, wiping oil paint from his fingers, when his phone buzzed. The second he saw Riven's name, something in his chest fluttered.
He put the phone to his ear.
> "Hey," Riven's voice came through, a little breathless. "I don't really know why I'm recording this instead of typing, but… I just needed to hear your voice somehow. Or maybe I needed you to hear mine."
Eli paused.
> "Today sucked. Like... really sucked. I failed a practical exam. My professor told me I was too distracted. And he's right. I am. I just—"
There was a pause. A soft sigh.
"I think I miss you. Is that weird? We haven't even seen each other in days but it's like... everything feels off when you're not around."
Eli's fingers tightened slightly on the phone.
> "Anyway... ignore me. Just needed to say something to someone who won't tell me to 'man up.' I'll see you soon?"
The message ended.
Eli didn't respond right away. His heart felt heavy and warm at the same time. He had never been someone people relied on. Never been anyone's "safe place."
Until now.
So he sent one thing back.
> "You can always talk to me. I'll listen—even to the silence."
Not long after, Riven replied with a single red heart.
---
That Saturday, Riven showed up at Eli's door without warning.
He looked exhausted—hair slightly messy, wearing a hoodie and jeans that didn't look like his usual well-put-together style. He was holding two cups of iced coffee and a bag of bread.
"Didn't know what kind you liked, so I just got both," he said, holding them up like peace offerings.
Eli blinked in surprise. "You came all the way here… for bread?"
Riven shrugged, a small smile playing at his lips. "I came for you. The bread is just insurance."
Eli stepped aside, letting him in. His dorm was small, filled with canvases leaning against walls, half-used tubes of paint, and the scent of coffee and varnish lingering in the air.
"Sorry, it's messy," Eli muttered.
"I like it," Riven said, walking in slowly. "It feels like you."
They sat cross-legged on the floor, sharing the bread and sipping coffee in comfortable silence. The kind that felt like a shared secret.
"So," Eli asked after a moment. "You really okay?"
Riven shrugged. "Define okay."
Eli looked at him, and Riven looked away.
"I'm trying," Riven said, voice quiet. "But it's hard. Everything feels like pressure. My parents, med school, even my friends. I feel like I'm always performing. Always pretending to be the guy who has it together."
"You don't have to pretend here," Eli whispered.
Riven looked up. Their eyes met.
"I know," he said. "That's why I came."
The words hung in the air, gentle but powerful.
And then, slowly, Eli reached over and touched Riven's hand. Just lightly. Just enough.
Riven didn't pull away.
---
They spent the rest of the afternoon listening to music from Eli's old speaker, the kind of soft, melancholic songs that made you think of people you missed or memories you never wanted to lose. At some point, Riven lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling while Eli sat nearby, sketching him without asking this time.
"You always do that," Riven murmured, breaking the quiet.
"Do what?"
"Look at me like I'm something you're scared to lose."
Eli's pencil slowed. He didn't look up. "Maybe I am."
Riven turned his head, staring at him. "You don't even know me that well."
"I know you more than you think," Eli said softly. "I know you get quiet when you're thinking too much. I know you play with your sleeve when you're nervous. I know your laugh changes when you're tired."
He finally looked up, his eyes sincere.
"And I know you feel like you have to be strong for everyone… but you don't have to be that with me."
Riven's throat tightened.
No one had ever said that to him before. Not like that.
Not without expecting something in return.
"I hate that you see through me so easily," he said.
Eli smiled faintly. "I think that's why you came back."
There was a long silence, not awkward—but heavy with everything left unsaid.
Then Riven sat up. He leaned forward slowly, like the moment was something fragile that could break if he moved too fast.
"Eli…"
Eli held his breath.
Riven stopped just inches from him. "I want to kiss you."
Eli's heart thundered in his chest.
"Then do it," he whispered.
And Riven did.
It was soft. Gentle. Almost hesitant. Like they were both afraid it would disappear the moment their lips touched. But it didn't. It lingered.
Long enough to feel real.
Long enough to feel like home.
When they pulled apart, neither said anything. They didn't have to.
But inside both of them, something changed.
Something opened.
Something terrifying… and beautiful.
---
Later that night, after Riven had left, Eli sat by the window, watching the city lights blink like fireflies in the distance. He touched his lips and smiled to himself.
It wasn't love yet.
But it was close.
And for now, that was enough.
He picked up his sketchpad, turned to a blank page, and began to draw again.
This time, it wasn't just a portrait.
It was a feeling.
A memory.
A moment.
Riven's eyes.
The way he looked when he said, "I came for you."
Because for someone like Eli—who had grown used to being left behind—that meant everything.
And he knew…
This wouldn't be easy.
This wouldn't be perfect.
But it was real.
And for two people who were never meant to find each other—
They were already falling.
---