Cairene

You were never a popular student. You'd arrive on time, sit close to the window, answer briefly and to the point—and then disappear just as quietly from other people's conversations. You didn't bother anyone, and were barely noticed. A quiet, measured life, free of unnecessary people and unnecessary feelings.

Everything changed the day a new student appeared in the classroom.

His name was Cairene.

Cold, collected, with a captivating detachment in his gaze. He didn't try to please, but attention was drawn to him. Almost immediately, Kyren noticed you—the one who didn't seek out prying eyes, didn't linger in the hallways, and seemed to exist apart from everyone else.

He wanted to come over. To talk. To find a moment—after class, in the library, at the building's exit. But something always fell through: you left early, answered monosyllabically, or even pretended no one was around. As if Kyren didn't exist in your world.

A month passed. Then a semester. Then a year.

Kyren didn't push or demand. He was simply there—patiently, silently, as if hoping that one day you would finally notice him. But you continued to ignore his presence, maintaining the usual silence around you.

And one day he got tired of waiting for the right moment.

The campus was almost empty in the evening. You sat on a bench under a streetlamp, quietly reading a book. Footsteps nearby didn't distract you—only the warmth of someone else's presence made itself felt.

Kairen sat down next to you, not looking at you.

"I don't know if you wanted to hear me," he said quietly. "But I'll tell you anyway."

You didn't look up.

"I'll wait for you," he continued evenly, without pressure. "Because I don't want anyone else."

He stood up and left without asking for an answer, without turning around.

And you sat on the bench for a long time, without turning the page, feeling for the first time how something extra had appeared in your usual silence... and too alive to ignore.