The stairwell felt wrong without her.
Ethan noticed it immediately.
The silence wasn't soft anymore.
It didn't wrap around him like comfort. It pressed against him—heavy, suffocating, empty.
He sat on the step longer than he should have that night.
Staring at the place where she used to sit.
Waiting.
Even though he knew she wouldn't come back.
Not after what he said.
Not after how easily the words slipped out.
She's no one.
Ethan clenched his jaw, running a hand through his hair.
"Idiot," he muttered again.
He stayed until the arena lights started shutting down. Until the quiet became too loud. Until even the air felt different.
And still…
She didn't come back.
---
The next day was worse.
Because now, there was no excuse.
No "maybe."
No misunderstanding.
Just…absence.
Ethan found himself looking for her without meaning to.
In the hallways.
Near the practice rooms.
Even outside the building.
It didn't make sense.
She wasn't part of his world.
She didn't belong here.
And yet…
He couldn't stop checking.
---
"You look like you lost something."
Ethan didn't look up. "I didn't."
His bandmate leaned against the wall beside him, arms crossed. "You sure? Because you've been distracted all day."
"I'm always distracted."
"Not like this."
Silence.
Then—
"It's the girl, isn't it?"
Ethan's head snapped up, eyes sharp. "Drop it."
"I knew it," the guy smirked slightly. "You're hiding a girl."
"I said drop it."
But this time…
There was no real anger behind it.
Just frustration.
And that was new.
---
By evening, Ethan stopped pretending.
He didn't argue with himself.
Didn't try to convince himself it didn't matter.
He just…went back.
To the stairwell.
To her.
Or at least…
To where she used to be.
---
The door creaked open.
Empty.
His chest tightened, but he stepped in anyway.
Walked down the steps slowly.
Sat in his usual spot.
Waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Nothing.
Ethan let out a slow breath, leaning his head back against the wall.
"You really messed that up," he murmured to himself.
He pulled out his phone, staring at the blank screen.
He didn't have her number.
Didn't have a way to reach her.
Didn't even know where to find her.
All he had…
Was this place.
And now, even that felt like it was slipping away.
---
He was about to leave.
Really.
He had already stood up, already taken a step toward the door—
When it opened.
His heart stopped.
Lia stepped in.
Quiet.
Careful.
Like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to be there anymore.
And for a moment…
They just stared at each other.
---
"You came," Ethan said.
The words were soft.
Almost disbelieving.
Lia nodded slightly. "Yeah."
She didn't smile this time.
Didn't look as relaxed.
Didn't sit immediately.
Everything about her felt…different.
Distant.
And Ethan hated it.
---
"I didn't think you would," he admitted.
She looked at him, her expression calm but guarded. "I wasn't sure if I should."
The words hit harder than they should have.
Ethan swallowed. "…but you did."
"Yeah."
A pause.
Then she walked down the steps slowly, sitting in her usual place—but leaving a little more space between them than before.
Ethan noticed.
Of course he did.
---
Silence settled between them again.
But now…
It wasn't easy.
It wasn't soft.
It was careful.
Measured.
Like both of them were trying not to step on something broken.
---
"I'm sorry."
The words came out suddenly.
Before he could stop them.
Before he could rethink them.
Lia blinked, surprised.
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. "For yesterday. I shouldn't have said that."
She looked down at her notebook. "It's fine."
"No, it's not," he said quickly.
Her fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the page.
"You're not 'no one,'" he added, his voice quieter now.
She didn't respond immediately.
And that silence made his chest feel tight again.
---
"Then what am I?" she asked softly.
The question caught him off guard.
Ethan froze.
Because he didn't have an answer.
Not a simple one.
Not one he was ready to say out loud.
What was she?
A friend?
More than that.
Something important?
Definitely.
Something he didn't want to lose?
…yes.
But saying any of that felt too big. Too real. Too dangerous.
So he hesitated.
And that hesitation…
Said everything.
---
Lia nodded slowly, like she understood.
"You don't have to answer," she said gently.
"I do," he replied.
But his voice wasn't steady.
And that was the problem.
---
"I just…" he started, frustrated.
"I didn't want them to know about you."
She looked at him again. "Why?"
"Because…"
He paused.
Struggled.
Then said the only thing he could manage—
"Because this is…different."
The word hung between them.
Unclear.
Unfinished.
But real.
---
Lia studied him for a moment.
"Different how?"
Ethan exhaled slowly.
"…I don't come here for the quiet anymore."
Her heart skipped slightly.
He looked at her now.
Fully.
No mask.
No distance.
"I come because you're here."
Silence.
Heavy.
But not painful this time.
Just…honest.
---
Lia's fingers loosened slightly on her notebook.
"You didn't have to say that," she whispered.
"I know."
"But you did."
"…yeah."
---
The distance between them didn't disappear.
Not completely.
But something shifted.
Something small.
Fragile.
Hopeful.
---
"I'm still a little mad at you," she admitted softly.
Ethan nodded. "That's fair."
"But…" she hesitated. "…I came back anyway."
Something in his chest eased at that.
Just a little.
"Yeah," he said quietly.
"I noticed."
---
They didn't fix everything that night.
The tension didn't vanish.
The hurt didn't completely fade.
But they stayed.
They sat in the same place.
Talked a little.
Fell into a quieter version of what they had before.
Not the same.
But not broken either.
---
And as Ethan leaned back against the wall, listening to the soft sound of her turning pages…
He realized something.
He wasn't good at this.
At feelings.
At apologies.
At keeping people.
But for the first time in a long time…
He wanted to try.
And maybe…
That was enough. 💕