The hallway was quiet, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, almost suffocating. I could hear our footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor as Ciara and I walked side by side, the tension between us palpable.
We were headed to my room, a place that had become both a sanctuary and a prison in the past few days. The silence between us was thick, filled with everything we weren't saying but should have.
The air was cool, the castle's stone walls holding onto the chill of the night. I could feel the weight of Ciara's presence beside me, so close and yet it felt like there was an ocean between us.
She hadn't said much since we left the infirmary, her usual confidence replaced by a strange hesitance that made me uneasy. I wasn't used to seeing her like this uncertain, almost vulnerable.
As we walked, I found myself stealing glances at her, trying to read her expression, but she kept her gaze fixed ahead, her jaw clenched as if she was struggling with something.
Her silence was making my heart race, the knot in my stomach tightening with every step. I wasn't angry at her, not really, but the way she had disappeared without a word, leaving me alone with my thoughts and doubts it hurt more than I wanted to admit.
But what hurt more was the look in her eyes when I found her in the infirmary, that flash of something like panic when she thought I might have been hurt.
It was gone in an instant, replaced by her usual tough exterior, but I had seen it. It was enough to make me doubt everything I thought I knew about her.
We reached the door to my room, and I hesitated, my hand on the handle. I could feel her eyes on me now, the weight of her gaze burning into my back. I took a deep breath, steeling myself before pushing the door open and stepping inside.
The room was just as I had left it simple, almost sparse, but it felt smaller now, with Ciara standing there in the doorway, her presence filling the space.
I turned to face her, suddenly feeling more nervous than I had in a long time. She was still standing by the door, her hands shoved into the pockets of her pants, her eyes downcast.
I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was trying to hold herself together, but the cracks were starting to show.
She finally looked up at me, her eyes meeting mine, and I saw the conflict there the war she was waging with herself, trying to decide whether to speak or stay silent. "Aeliana," she started, her voice low, almost hesitant, "I—" She broke off, swallowing hard, and I saw the muscles in her jaw tighten as she clenched her teeth.
The awkwardness between us was almost unbearable, the silence stretching on as she struggled to find the words. "I just—" she tried again, but the words seemed to get stuck in her throat. Finally, she just sighed, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of whatever she was carrying was too much.
I wanted to say something to make it easier, to tell her that it was okay, that I wasn't as angry as she probably thought I was, but I couldn't find the right words either.
The relief I felt at seeing her again, knowing she was here, that she hadn't completely walked away it was overwhelming, but it was tangled up with so many other emotions that I didn't know how to unravel them.
"I'm sorry," she finally blurted out, the words sounding almost forced, like they were dragging out of her against her will.
Her eyes darted away, focusing on a spot on the floor instead of looking at me. "For... for everything. I didn't mean to just leave like that. I was... I was angry, and I didn't know what to do, so I just... I left."
The tension in the room seemed to crackle like static electricity, the air between us charged with everything that had gone unsaid.
She wasn't used to this apologizing, admitting she was wrong. It wasn't in her nature, and I could see how much it was costing her to even try.
"I'm not mad," I said softly, trying to ease some of the tension, though I wasn't sure if my words would help or make things worse.
"I mean, I was... hurt, confused, but I'm not mad." I took a step closer to her, closing the distance between us, and she looked up at me, her eyes filled with something I couldn't quite name. "I just... I just didn't understand why you left like that."
Ciara's gaze flickered, something like guilt passing over her features before she quickly masked it. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know how to deal with everything. With you."
The confession hung in the air between us, and I felt my heart skip a beat. She was opening up, even if just a little, and it was more than I ever expected from her.
I wanted to reach out, to touch her, to reassure her that it was okay, that we could figure it out together, but I hesitated, unsure if she would welcome the gesture or pull away.
We stood there in silence, both of us searching for the right words, the right way to bridge the gap that had formed between us.
But the silence wasn't as oppressive as it had been before. It was different now, more reflective, like we were both trying to navigate our way through unfamiliar territory.
Then, as if the thought had just occurred to her, Ciara looked at me, her expression serious. "Aeliana, did you... did you kiss Nathaniel?"
The question caught me off guard, and I blinked at her, trying to process what she was asking. "What? No!" I answered, the surprise evident in my voice. "Why would you even think that?"
She didn't answer right away, her gaze dropping to the floor again, her shoulders slumping slightly as if a weight had been lifted off them. "I don't know," she muttered, almost to herself. "I just... I needed to know."
I frowned, the knot in my stomach tightening again. "Why?" I pressed, needing to understand where this was coming from. "Why does it matter to you?"
Ciara didn't meet my eyes, her jaw clenching as if she was struggling with something. "It just does," she finally said, but there was no anger in her voice, just a quiet, raw honesty that made my heart ache.
I didn't push her for more, sensing that she wasn't ready to give it, but her words left me feeling even more confused, even more uncertain about where we stood. But despite the awkwardness, despite the discomfort, there was a strange sense of relief settling in my chest. She was here, with me, and that was more than I had dared hope for.
The argument that had driven us apart had been painful, but now, standing here with her, I could see that it had also brought us closer.
We had been forced to confront the emotions we had been avoiding, forced to face the reality of what was between us. And even though it was scary, even though it made me feel more vulnerable than I ever had before, it was also... freeing.
I took a deep breath, letting the tension drain from my shoulders as I looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the worry etched into her features, the way she was still holding onto her defenses even as they crumbled around her.
I realized then that this was just as hard for her as it was for me, maybe even harder. She wasn't used to this to caring, to feeling, to being vulnerable. And yet, here she was, trying to find a way to make things right between us.
"Let's be friends," I said, the words coming out before I could really think about them. It felt like a lie, a flimsy attempt to put up a barrier between us, to keep things from getting too complicated.
But it was all I could manage right now. The truth was too terrifying to face head-on.
Ciara looked at me, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, I thought she might reject the offer, might laugh it off or brush it aside. But then she nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement, and I felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment.
"Friends," she echoed, the word hanging in the air between us like a fragile thread.
But as we stood there, the tension slowly easing, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were both lying not just to each other, but to ourselves.
Because even as I said the words, I knew that friendship wasn't what I wanted, wasn't what I felt. But it was safer, easier, and for now, that would have to be enough.
We lingered there in my room, the silence stretching out again, but this time it was different. It wasn't filled with tension or awkwardness. It was filled with the understanding that, despite everything, despite the hurt and the confusion, we were still here, still standing side by side, trying to figure out what came next.
I didn't know what the future held for us, didn't know if we would ever get past the walls we had both built around ourselves. But as I looked at Ciara, saw the way she was trying really trying I knew that I was willing to find out.