Some words can only be written when the body is on the edge of collapse.
And some loves survive… only when they are never spoken.
_____________
The sky had yet to recover from its grayness.
Much like Aerish Elowen's chest, which continued folding itself into silence. This morning, Elmsworth Literary Academy offered no more warmth than usual. A thin fog clung to the front yard, and the old trees dropped damp leaves like breaths held too long.
Inside the classical literature classroom, Professor Ivor Thorne recited Shelley's lines with deep, rhythmic cadence:
"Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought."
Aerish sat in the middle row. Her hand moved slowly, taking notes. But her gaze wasn't focused. Her ears heard, but her body quietly rebelled. Her temperature wasn't high, but cold sweat clung to her skin. Her breathing was beginning to falter.
Her right hand trembled slightly as she tried to write. She masked it by tapping her pen twice on the desk—a small habit she did every time the tightness returned.
"Would the earth remain the same, if my feelings rose to the surface?"
"Why does my pen still move, even when my body can't?"
She looked out the window. The rain hadn't fallen yet. But the sky had already gathered it inside the clouds.
In front of her, Kael sat facing away. Calm. Focused. Taking notes. Occasionally lifting his head to listen. Meanwhile, Aerish stared at his back as if reading a sentence too long to finish.
"You looked at her yesterday... just as I looked at you. I'm not angry. It's just... my heart hurts a little."
Class ended as the clock struck ten. Students rose. Voices filled the room. Movement.
But Aerish stayed seated. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk—holding herself steady.
Liora Valeen approached from the left, carrying her notebook and a worried expression she no longer tried to hide.
"Rish..." she said softly. "You look pale again."
Aerish nodded, offered a faint smile. "Just tired."
"Do you want to go to the clinic?" Liora sat beside her. "You almost collapsed when you looked up. I saw it."
"I'm fine," Aerish replied, though her voice was as thin as falling petals.
Liora stared at her. "You need to stop holding everything in, even your pain."
Silence.
Then Liora added, even softer, "Even your feelings for him."
Aerish froze. Her hand halted over her book.
"Just tell him, Rish. Before everything becomes too late. The world is too wide to revolve around just one axis."
"But Kael is my axis," Aerish thought. "And if I move away from him, I fear I'll never know where my steps should go."
But she only smiled and said, "I'm more comfortable at the edge of the orbit."
Liora sighed. "You're the most stubborn girl I know."
That afternoon, they sat in the campus cafeteria. Aerish chose the corner table near the window. Liora bought two coffees and a slice of bread. At another table, Kael sat alone, reading while eating a chicken sandwich and sipping black tea. Sunlight fell on his hair, making it appear brighter than usual.
Aerish didn't eat. She pinched off a piece of bread, then left it untouched.
She watched Kael quietly. Searching for signs that maybe... just maybe... he felt something. But there was nothing. Just a calm expression. A focused gaze. And a small smile when another student greeted him.
"Do you really not remember me?"
"Am I just a story written in the wrong season?"
Liora noticed Aerish's gaze. She frowned and sighed. "You know, sometimes I want to shake him and shout, 'Hey! Someone's been loving you in silence for years!' But I know... that's not your style."
Aerish didn't reply.
She just kept watching Kael, like someone staring at a book never finished.
That evening, Aerish returned to her family's library.
Her steps were slow, but her heart was full. She could still feel Kael's voice echoing as he read the day before. And the words he'd whispered: "Who are you really...?"
"I'm a silent writer. A blank page too afraid for you to read."
She opened the same book. Page 37 was empty. Kael had taken the poem.
But at the corner of the page... was unfamiliar handwriting.
Not hers.
Kael's.
"To the one who writes with rain: Your words feel like memories I've never had— and yet I miss them."
Aerish clutched the book tightly. Her eyes welled up.
She sat slowly. Stared at the page. Long and quiet.
"Is this a beginning, or just the echo of an ending?"
Her hand trembled as she reached for her pen.
She didn't write a reply.
Not yet.
She only bowed her head and whispered to the dusk.
May these words be enough.
May my voiceless love be enough.
---
Later that night, Aerish stepped into the dim room of the library again. Tall windows caught the fading light, and the tapping of rain on glass sang like a slow symphony of pain.
The poetry shelf welcomed her again. The book Kael borrowed yesterday had been returned. Her hands trembled as she pulled it free—its cover still warm with possibility.
On page 37, below her poem, a new note appeared. Small. Faint. Not hers.
"There's something about these words... They feel familiar. Like something I forgot, or once dreamed."
Aerish stared at the words for a long time. Her breath caught. She traced the ink with tear-blurred eyes. Her fingers gripped the book too tightly, turning pale.
She closed it gently.
And as she stepped back to the table, her chest throbbed. Her breath grew heavy. Her vision dimmed. Suddenly everything blurred. Light. Shelves. Rain.
She touched her temple. Cold sweat gathered on her forehead, and her body nearly collapsed.
"—Aerish!"
The voice came fast, and someone caught her just before she fell.
Liora Valeen.
She guided Aerish to a bench in the corner. "You're shaking... You're so pale!"
"I'm just... tired," Aerish whispered, trying to compose herself.
"You said that yesterday. And last week." Liora's voice was quiet but firm. "Do you think I don't know you're hiding something?"
Aerish looked toward the window. The rain hadn't stopped. Inside her chest, a question she couldn't voice kept echoing:
Would the earth still be the same if my feelings rose to the surface...?
Liora drew a long breath. Sitting beside her, she said softly but sharply, "You know, the world doesn't revolve around Kael, Aerish. You have a choice. You can be the center of your own world."
Aerish offered a faint smile. "I know. But I also know... my feelings aren't something I can stop just because logic says I should."
Liora shook her head. "You looked at him yesterday, Aerish. And he looked at someone else. I'm not saying it's wrong. I just... don't want you to hurt yourself for a love that doesn't know where to belong."
Aerish didn't reply.
She only bowed her head, and in the quiet beneath her voice, her soul whispered:
"You looked at her yesterday... While I was looking at you. I'm not angry... Just... a little hurt."
---
That night, Aerish returned home.
Her room was silent. Only the ticking of the old clock and the rain outside kept her company.
She lit a candle, sat at her small desk, and opened her journal.
"Does this world only spin around you...? Or is it only me who makes you my axis?"
"Why does my pen keep moving when my body can't? Should I keep writing you, even without a voice?"
"If one day I vanish before my voice reaches you, Please... still read me in silence."
Her hand was weak, but she kept writing.
Because this love didn't want to be spoken. It only wanted to live—once—in letters that might never be read.
---
The next morning, in the campus cafeteria, Aerish sat in her usual corner.
The room buzzed with life, but she remained quiet. Before her, a cup of bitter tea left untouched.
Across the room, Kael sat with a few friends, including Sera. They laughed softly, and Kael opened a poetry book between bites of breakfast.
Aerish glanced up, then looked down again.
Liora sat across from her, watching.
"You know," she whispered, "if he knew even half of what you've written for him, maybe your world wouldn't feel this silent."
Aerish smiled gently. "Maybe. But isn't a poem still beautiful... even if it's never read?"
---
And when Kael opened page 16 of the book he borrowed yesterday— he found one word that held him still:
"Found."
Unaware that someone nearby was quietly getting lost.
_________________
And when Kael opened page sixteen of the book he borrowed yesterday,
he found a single word:
"Found."
Unaware, someone near him was quietly fading.