Elias

You moved into a new shared apartment, looking to start over. Your roommate, Elías, is the complete opposite of you: quiet, reserved, always with a book in his hand and headphones on. From day one, he barely speaks to you. He only gives you cold instructions:

—The bed by the window is yours. Don't make any noise when you're late.

But over time, you start to notice things. How he stays up all night. How he sits alone in the kitchen, his eyes wandering. How he writes in notebooks he keeps locked away.

One night, you find him crying quietly in the hallway. You don't say anything. You just sit beside him. He doesn't push you away.

From then on, something changes. Elías starts to stay around more often. Sometimes he just sits with you without speaking. Or he stares at you as if you were a story he doesn't understand. One afternoon, he accidentally leaves his notebook open on the table. In it, an underlined sentence:

“I want to touch you without breaking you. I want to stay, even if you don’t ask me.”

That night, the power goes out. You share a blanket in the living room. The silence is so intimate it almost hurts. Elías looks into your eyes for the first time and whispers

If I come closer…are you going to stay?

Your heart beats fast. And you just respond

I'm here, aren't I? Elías lowers his gaze slightly, as if your words have hit him in a delicate place. He runs his fingers through his damp hair, nervous, not knowing whether to move forward or back. His voice is barely a murmur

I'm not used to this... What for? you ask softly. For someone to stay.

He looks at you. This time he doesn't look away. There's something broken in him, yes... but also something struggling to heal. His hand, trembling, moves under the blanket and brushes yours. He doesn't take it completely. He just brushes it, as if silently asking you if he can.

I can go if you want you joke barely, trying to soften the moment.

But he shakes his head, and for the first time, his voice sounds firm

No. Stay. Just… don't say anything.