Side Story (2) - Chapter 8 Final Chapter
Sable sat in her room, staring at the open suitcase on her bed, the clothes neatly folded inside looking out of place against her usual style. Her typical wardrobe—loose sweaters, dark colors, and beanies—lay scattered across the chair nearby, contrasting sharply with the more polished outfit she had chosen for the trip to her aunt's. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was preparing to play a role that wasn't her.
She tugged at the hem of the cardigan she'd tried on earlier, feeling the unfamiliar fabric between her fingers. It was softer, more refined—completely different from the oversized hoodies and casual jeans she preferred. Even her hair, which usually fell in untamed waves or was tucked under a beanie, was tied back in a neat ponytail. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and almost didn't recognize the person looking back.
Her thoughts drifted back to the conversation she'd had with her dad earlier. He had mentioned the gathering with his usual, gentle optimism, saying it might be nice to see everyone again. But she knew better. She had seen the unease in his eyes, the way he hesitated before mentioning his sister's name. Sable knew how those family gatherings made him feel—how they made him feel less, like he had something to prove. And even though he always tried to hide it, she could sense the weight he carried, a weight that he never wanted to burden her with.
She looked down at the cardigan, frowning as she ran a hand over the neatly folded clothes in her suitcase. The outfit she planned to wear felt like a disguise, a way to blend in for her dad's sake, to avoid the comments and side glances that she knew would come from her aunt and the other relatives. It felt wrong, but she'd do it anyway, just like she always did. For him.
A soft knock on the door broke her thoughts. Her dad peeked in, a small, tired smile on his face. "You all packed, kiddo?"
Sable nodded, trying to muster a smile of her own. "Yeah, just finishing up."
Her dad's gaze softened as he stepped into the room, taking in the sight of the open suitcase and the different clothes. He didn't say anything, but she could tell he noticed the change. He lingered by the door for a moment, then sighed. "You know, you don't have to dress up for them, right? You should just be yourself."
Sable's chest tightened at his words, and she looked away, feeling the familiar sting of conflicting emotions. She wanted to believe him, but she also knew how much he valued peace—how much he didn't want to cause waves, even if it meant sacrificing a bit of himself. Just like she was willing to sacrifice a bit of herself for him.
"Yeah, I know," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "But... it's just easier this way."
Her dad's expression faltered for a moment, a flash of sadness crossing his face before he quickly replaced it with another gentle smile. He ruffled her hair, making the carefully tied ponytail shift slightly. "Well, just remember... I'm proud of you, no matter what you wear."
Sable swallowed the lump in her throat, managing a nod. "Thanks, Dad."
He gave her one last reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping out of the room, leaving Sable alone with her thoughts again. She sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the suitcase, the pressure in her chest growing heavier. Her dad's words meant the world to her, but the truth was... she wasn't doing this just for him. She was doing it because a part of her still felt the need to prove something—to show that she could fit in, even if it went against everything she usually stood for.
She glanced back at her reflection, taking in the neat ponytail, the softer outfit she'd chosen for tomorrow. For a moment, she thought of Raxian, the way he had been during their encounter on the balcony—quiet, not pushing for answers, just sharing the space with her. She wondered what he would think if he saw her like this. Would he understand, or would he see it as another puzzle he couldn't quite solve about her?
She shook her head, brushing the thought aside. It didn't matter. Tomorrow, she would put on the mask, play the part, and get through the family gathering like she always did. But tonight... tonight, she allowed herself to be vulnerable, if only for a moment, before slipping back into the role she'd grown so used to playing.
With a sigh, she reached for the loose sweater draped over the chair, pulling it over her head and feeling the familiar warmth of the fabric. It felt like slipping back into herself, even if it was just for a little while longer. As she turned off the light and crawled into bed, she found herself wishing that this version of her could last just a bit longer.
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Sable zipped up her coat, the chill of the winter morning biting through the air, even as the sun peeked through the clouds. Her hair, tied neatly in a ponytail, brushed lightly against her back as she stepped outside. The streets were quieter than usual, the usual bustle of the city still waking up as she wandered aimlessly, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the weekend ahead.
She didn't have to leave until noon, and part of her wished the time would stretch longer, giving her a few more hours of freedom before she had to put on that facade again. She had already dressed up in her chosen attire, but her coat—her old, reliable coat—brought a small comfort, like a piece of herself she could still carry.
Her feet carried her to a familiar part of town, almost without thinking. When she realized where she was, a small smirk tugged at her lips. The park bench. Their park bench, as she had started to think of it. The very spot where she'd encountered Raxian before, where their conversation had veered unexpectedly into uncharted territory.
Sable sat down, the cold metal of the bench seeping through the fabric of her coat. She leaned back, crossing her arms, her breath fogging in the morning air. Her thoughts wandered back to their balcony encounter, to the words she had thrown at him—half a challenge, half a quiet hope. Or maybe you don't realize when people actually want to be found.
She doubted he'd really taken them to heart. Raxian wasn't exactly known for reading between the lines. But as she glanced out toward the path where he had appeared last time, she felt a small flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he would show up again. It was ridiculous, she knew—counting on chance encounters like this. But she didn't mind the waiting. It felt like a game, a quiet challenge to fate, and Sable had always thrived on challenges.
The thought of pulling out her phone, of sending him a message, crossed her mind more than once. It would be easy—just a few taps, a short text to break the silence. But she dismissed the idea almost as soon as it came. It wasn't her style to make things so straightforward. If he had truly heard her, if he had understood her words that night, then maybe his steps would lead him back here without needing the push.
She shifted slightly on the bench, tucking her hands into her pockets to stave off the cold. Her gaze lingered on the path, a mix of curiosity and anticipation playing in her chest. Would he show up? Would he even remember this place? Sable didn't know how long she'd wait, but she was willing to find out. It was a small, quiet hope—a challenge she had set for herself, and for him, too.
And if he didn't show, well... she'd be disappointed, but not surprised. It wasn't in Raxian's nature to pick up on subtle hints, after all. But if he did... maybe it would mean that he was more than just the brash, stubborn guy she'd come to know. Maybe he was starting to change, too.
For now, all she could do was wait, the quiet of the park settling around her as she kept her eyes on the distance, waiting to see if fate would bring them together once more.
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Raxian woke up to a quiet morning, the winter light seeping through his curtains, casting pale shadows across his room. He lay there for a while, listening to the distant hum of life outside, his thoughts drifting aimlessly. There wasn't much on his plate today—no games planned, no friends pestering him to hang out, no family obligations tugging at his time. For the first time in days, he found himself alone with his thoughts, and they led him down a familiar path.
He thought back to recent weeks, to the faces that had popped up in his life, each leaving their mark. Raze with his easygoing nature and unwavering loyalty. Fayne, who had surprised him with her warmth and care, despite the distance that had grown between them. And then, there was Sable.
He found himself lingering on her, on their encounters—the way she had looked at him that night on the balcony, a mix of curiosity and something deeper in her eyes. She had spoken to him with a tone that was hard to decipher, but one thing she had said stood out, replaying in his mind like a stubborn echo: "Or maybe you don't realize when people actually want to be found."
Raxian turned the words over in his head, letting them settle into the quiet of the room. He wasn't usually one to dissect conversations, especially when they seemed too abstract. But with Sable, it felt different. He knew there was a meaning buried under her words, something he hadn't fully grasped. He could sense that there was a weight she was carrying, something she wasn't willing to share so easily.
But why had she said that to him? And what exactly did she mean by wanting to be found? Was it her way of reaching out, a subtle call for help that he was supposed to answer? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that maybe, just maybe, she had been leaving a door open for him. A chance for him to reach out, to show that he could be there for her in the same way she had been for him when he needed it most.
A frown tugged at his brow as he considered his next move. Reaching out with a simple text wouldn't be enough—not for Sable. She wasn't someone who responded well to half-measures. If he was going to be there for her, it had to be real. She had guided him out of his own darkness, helped him find his footing when he felt lost. Now, maybe it was his turn to do the same.
But how was he supposed to find her? Where would he even start looking?
He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, his mind racing through possibilities. The thought of messaging her crossed his mind, but he dismissed it quickly. No, this wasn't something that could be done over a screen. If she wanted to be found, he had to put in the effort—he had to show up.
Then, as if the thought had always been there, he recalled the park bench. The place where they had crossed paths, where she had sat alone, her expression distant and thoughtful. It had been a coincidence then, but maybe it didn't have to be this time. He could try his luck, take a chance—because if there was one thing he had learned from Sable, it was that some things were worth pursuing, even if they seemed uncertain.
With that thought, he stood up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever might come next. He didn't know if she would be there, didn't know if he'd find her at all, but he knew he had to try. He wasn't sure what he would say, or if he even had the right words for her. But he knew that this time, he wouldn't let her feel alone.
Because if she had helped him find his way, then maybe he could help her find hers too—even if it was just by sitting beside her, sharing a quiet moment under the winter sky.
And so, he stepped out into the cold morning, the chill biting at his cheeks as he made his way toward the park, each step a silent promise that he was ready to try, no matter how it turned out.
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Raxian approached the park bench, his footsteps crunching softly against the thin layer of snow that blanketed the ground. He had half-expected the space to be empty—just another quiet spot in the city, much like his mind had been for the past few days, drifting between thoughts of everything and nothing at once. But there she was, leaning slightly forward with her elbows resting on her knees, her gaze fixed on the far-off cityscape, lost in her thoughts.
Sable's hair, usually flowing free or tied up in a loose ponytail, seemed out of place today, perfectly styled and neat—more in line with the version of herself she showed in school, not the Sable he had come to know outside of it. The sight of her in that more polished state was jarring, especially against the backdrop of the quiet park. It made Raxian realize that she wasn't just different on the outside; something had shifted within her as well.
He slowed his steps as he neared, unsure of how to announce his presence. But Sable must have heard him, her head turning slightly as he came into view. She didn't say anything at first, just watched him approach with a faint, almost unreadable expression—like she wasn't entirely surprised but still a little uncertain about what he was doing there.
Raxian's steps slowed as he drew closer, hesitating as he tried to figure out what to say. He'd seen Sable like this only a few times before, back when she put on that more reserved, composed demeanor at school. But seeing it here, away from the usual context, made it feel different. It was as if she had put up a barrier, even more so than usual, and he wasn't sure whether he should push past it or respect the distance.
He cleared his throat, the sound loud in the quiet of the winter air, but Sable's gaze remained on the horizon. "You've got a knack for finding the most random spots to hang out," he said, trying to keep his tone light, as if to ease the weight of whatever was hanging between them. "Or maybe I'm just better at finding you than I thought."
Sable's lips twitched slightly, almost forming a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She turned her gaze back to the cityscape, her breath escaping in a soft, misty cloud. "Or maybe," she replied, her voice quieter than he was used to, "I just wanted to be found."
Raxian's chest tightened at her words, and he felt the sting of their last encounter on the balcony echoing in his mind. She had been trying to tell him something then, and he had only half-understood. Now, sitting beside her, he felt like he was closer to grasping it, even if he wasn't sure what to do with that knowledge. He sank down onto the bench beside her, leaving a small space between them, trying not to break the delicate atmosphere with too many words.
They sat together in silence for a while, the cold settling into Raxian's bones, but he didn't mind. There was something almost peaceful about it, the way the city's distant hum mingled with the quietness of the park. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, taking in the way she hugged her coat closer around herself, her shoulders tense, her usual air of confidence replaced by something more fragile.
She drew in a shaky breath, her fingers toying with the hem of her coat. For a moment, it seemed like she might keep whatever she was feeling locked away, but then she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know why I'm saying this to you," she began, her tone wavering, "but... there's this thing with my dad. And my aunt. It's stupid, really, but it just gets to me."
Raxian's brow furrowed as he listened, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "What do you mean?" he asked softly, trying to keep his voice steady, not wanting to break the fragile honesty she was offering.
She let out a short, humorless laugh, her breath misting in the air as she shook her head. "My dad's sister—she's always got something to say. About how I should act, how he should be living his life. How... how he's never really measured up, you know?" Her voice tightened, and she hesitated before continuing, as if trying to find the right words. "And I know my dad's fine with who he is, but I can see how it gets to him. And it gets to me too. So, I try to fit in, just for a while, to make things easier for him. Even if it means... not being myself."
Raxian's heart twisted at the vulnerability in her words. He wasn't used to seeing her like this—exposed, raw, her usual defenses crumbling. He shifted a little closer, his arm brushing against hers, offering a quiet solidarity. "That sounds tough," he said, his voice softer than he intended. "But... you shouldn't have to change for them, Sable. You're already enough as you are. Your dad knows that."
Sable turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze. A tear had gathered in the corner of her eye, catching the light before she quickly blinked it away, as if embarrassed by the display of emotion. But Raxian saw it, the sight striking something deep within him. He didn't know what to do, but he knew he couldn't just sit there and let her hurt alone.
She swallowed, her voice barely holding steady as she continued. "I don't mind doing it for my dad. He's made so many sacrifices for me, and... I just want him to be happy, you know? Even if it means pretending to be someone I'm not for a while. But it's like... I'm losing a part of myself each time."
Raxian nodded slowly, taking in her words, feeling the weight of them settle in his chest. He thought back to all the times Sable had been there for him, her blunt honesty cutting through his own confusion, guiding him back when he felt lost. He had never thought he'd be in a position to return the favor, but now, more than ever, he wanted to be that person for her. "You don't have to carry that alone," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I mean, you were there for me when I was at my lowest. Let me be that for you too, okay? I might not be good with... this kind of stuff, but I'll try."
For a moment, Sable just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she let out a breath, a small, genuine smile tugging at her lips—one that held a hint of gratitude. "Thanks, Raxian," she murmured, her voice softer than he'd ever heard it. "I'm... not used to letting people in, but... I think I'm glad you found me."
Raxian's breath caught at the raw sincerity in her voice. He managed a small smile in return, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the winter chill. "Yeah... I'm glad I found you too."
They sat there together, the city lights flickering in the distance, and for the first time, Raxian understood what it meant to be truly present for someone else. It wasn't about having the right words or offering a perfect solution. Sometimes, it was enough just to show up—to be there, even when the rest of the world felt cold and distant.
And as Sable leaned back against the bench, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly, he realized that maybe, for both of them, this moment was exactly what they needed.