Chapter 3: Late Nights and Loud Silences

She didn’t expect the project to actually start that fast.

But Kieran Vale wasn’t the type to delay anything.

By the end of the week, she already had a message from him.

Kieran: Library. 6 PM. Don’t be late.

No “hi.” No “please.” No explanation.

Just a command.

She stared at her phone for a full five seconds before locking it.

“Bossy,” she muttered.

Still… she went.

The library was quieter than usual that night. Warm lights. Soft pages turning. The kind of silence that didn’t feel empty—just careful.

She spotted him immediately.

Of course he was already there.

Back straight. Laptop open. Notes perfectly arranged like everything in his life had a system.

She walked over and dropped her bag on the table a little harder than necessary.

“I’m not late,” she said.

He glanced at the time on his laptop.

“You are,” he replied.

She frowned. “It’s 6:01.”

“Late.”

She rolled her eyes and sat across from him. “You’re annoying.”

He didn’t react. Just slid a printed outline toward her.

“I already drafted the structure,” he said.

She blinked. “You… already started?”

“Yes.”

“Without me?”

He finally looked at her.

“You were busy,” he said simply.

That made her pause.

“I wasn’t busy.”

“You didn’t respond for two days.”

She opened her mouth—then closed it again.

Because she had seen the message.

She just ignored it.

Not because she didn’t care.

But because she didn’t expect him to actually wait.

“…Fine,” she muttered. “Let’s see it.”

She pulled the paper closer.

And froze.

It was perfect.

Clean structure. Strong arguments. Balanced workload. Even space for her input already marked in small notes.

It was so good it annoyed her.

“You act like you don’t need anyone,” she said quietly.

He didn’t look up from his laptop. “I don’t.”

That answer should’ve been arrogant.

But somehow… it sounded tired.

She studied him for a moment.

For the first time, she noticed the small things.

The faint dark circles under his eyes. The way his shoulders stayed tense even when he was sitting still. The way he never fully relaxed.

“Do you ever rest?” she asked before she could stop herself.

His typing slowed.

A pause.

Then—

“That’s not relevant,” he said.

She leaned back. “That sounds like a no.”

He didn’t answer.

Silence returned between them.

But it didn’t feel the same as before.

It felt heavier.

Minutes passed as they worked.

At some point, she stopped competing with him and just… matched his pace.

Strangely, it wasn’t uncomfortable anymore.

It was… easy.

Too easy.

“Here,” she said suddenly, pointing at his draft. “This part is too rigid. It sounds robotic.”

He glanced at where she pointed.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Another pause.

Then he slid the laptop slightly toward her.

“Fix it.”

She blinked. “Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t trust your own work?”

“I trust results,” he said. “Not ego.”

That line hit differently than she expected.

She typed for a moment, adjusting a paragraph, softening the tone.

When she finished, she turned the screen back to him.

He read it.

Longer than she expected.

Then—

“…Better,” he said quietly.

Just one word.

But it didn’t sound cold this time.

It sounded… honest.

She tried to hide her small smile. “Of course it is.”

He finally looked at her again.

And for a moment, he didn’t look like the untouchable top student everyone talked about.

Just a guy sitting in a quiet library.

Working beside her.

“Same time tomorrow,” he said.

She raised a brow. “That’s not a request, huh?”

“No.”

She sighed. “You really don’t like asking nicely.”

A faint pause.

Then—

“I don’t need to,” he said.

But this time, his eyes didn’t feel as distant.

And she didn’t hate the idea of coming back tomorrow.

Not even a little.

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