Outside, the sky had turned a dull shade of gray. Rain threatened, but hadn’t begun yet. The air carried that quiet tension—the kind that comes before something breaks.
Furthermore, she liked that feeling.
Because it matched something inside her.
A few students moved in and out of the library, their footsteps soft against the polished floor. Occasional whispers floated and faded. No one noticed her. No one ever really did.
"But WHY?"
Likewise, she adjusted her posture slightly, pulling the book closer, as if it could shield her from something unseen. Her hair fell forward, hiding part of her face. Not deliberately. It just… happened. Like most things in her life—unspoken, unnoticed.
Words had never been her strength.
Not because she didn’t have them.
But because, at some point, they stopped mattering.
So she learned silence instead.
And silence, unlike people, never misunderstood her.
A low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance.
This time, she looked up.
Just for a second.
Raindrops began tapping softly against the glass window beside her. Slow at first… then faster. The world outside blurred slightly as the rain settled in, turning everything into motion and haze.
She watched it for a moment, then looked back down.
Outside on the corridor a sudden noise arose indicating something to begin with, louder than usual.
And she stiffened slightly, her fingers pausing on the page.
Voices. Multiple.
She didn’t look up immediately. She never did.
“Bro, I told you it was going to rain,” one of them said, half-laughing.
“And I told you we’d make it,” another replied.
Footsteps approached. Not quiet. Not careful. Different.
They didn’t belong here. People like that—loud, effortless, surrounded—existed in a world far from hers.
A chair scraped somewhere behind.
More laughter.
Then—
Silence.
Not the usual kind.
This was… different.
Uncertain.
Like something had paused.
Her fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the page.
And for reasons she didn’t understand, she looked up.
Not fully. Just enough.
