Chapter 7:Quiet Beginnings
The coffee shop was nearly empty just the soft hum of a machine and the low murmur of rain tapping the windows. Elira stirred her drink absentmindedly, her thoughts half on the storm outside, half on the man sitting across from her.
Zion didn't speak right away. He was watching her again, not in the way Zayn used to intense, hungry, like he needed to solve her. Zion's gaze was quiet. Respectful. As if he was waiting for her to invite him in.
"You always do that," he said softly.
Elira blinked. "Do what?"
"Stare out the window like the rain has answers."
She smiled, the first real one in days. "Maybe it does. It's just… quieter than people."
Zion leaned back, his fingers wrapped around his cup. "Yeah. People can be too loud. Especially when they don't understand."
She looked at him then. Really looked. "But you understand, don't you?"
His jaw tightened, just a little. "I try. That's the difference."
A long pause stretched between them. Not awkward. Just... full.
She was surprised by how safe she felt with him. No expectations. No pressure to be "okay." He didn't flinch at her silence or rush to fix the pieces she was still gluing together.
"You're not like him," she said suddenly.
Zion raised a brow. "Zayn?"
She nodded.
He hesitated. "We may be twins, but we've always seen the world differently. He runs from pain. I walk through it."
That made something in her chest ache.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For walking with me."
Later that week, Zion texted her:
"You ever watched stars from a rooftop? You should. Meet me tonight. I'll bring snacks. You bring that look like you know all the answers."
Elira laughed softly as she read the message. She hadn't laughed like that in weeks.
The rooftop was quiet when she arrived, lit only by fairy lights Zion had strung across the edge.
"You weren't joking about snacks," she said, eyeing the blanket full of chips, juice, and marshmallows.
"Would I ever lie to you?" he teased.
She raised an eyebrow. "You're a boy."
He laughed. "Touché."
They lay back on the blanket, shoulders barely touching. For a while, they just listened to the wind.
Zion broke the silence. "Do you think people can start over?"
Elira turned her head to him. "Not from scratch. But maybe… from what's left."
He smiled like her answer meant something.
And then, very softly, he reached out and brushed his pinky against hers. Not a grab. Not a claim. Just... a quiet offering.
She didn't pull away.
By the time she got home, her heart was both calm and confused. Zion was nothing like she expected. And that terrified her more than anything.
She wasn't supposed to fall again.
But maybe just maybe she was allowed to heal.