Aurora squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn't going to fall for it. Not again.
But why did it still hurt so much?
Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a notification from a social media app. A post. A picture. Ethan, with his arm draped around another girl.
Aurora felt her stomach churn and twist.
It was a sickening reminder of why she had to let him go. But seeing it was different than imagining it. It stung more than she had anticipated.
The next day, when she arrived at the library again, she wasn't expecting to see Lucas. But there he was, sitting in the same spot by the window, a book open in front of him.
Aurora's heart skipped a beat when their eyes met. She was startled by how good it felt to see him, how comforting it was. But at the same time, a little part of her felt guilty. What was she doing? Was she rushing into something new just because Ethan had hurt her?
As if sensing her hesitation, Lucas smiled up at her, his eyes soft.
"Didn't expect to see you here so soon," he said, his voice warm.
Aurora paused, her hand gripping the door handle. She could still feel the lingering weight of her doubts, the nagging voice in her head warning her not to repeat her past mistakes.
But she took a step forward anyway.
"I guess I just needed a distraction," she said, giving him a half-smile.
Lucas closed his book and stood, his expression thoughtful. "Well, if you're looking for a distraction, I think I can help with that."
Aurora sat down next to him, her hands trembling slightly as they opened a book on the table.
The familiar hum of the library surrounded them, but this time, Aurora didn't mind the quiet. Instead, she leaned into it, the weight of her thoughts temporarily fading away.
For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe again.
The next day, sharp morning air filled Aurora's lungs as she stepped onto the university campus. Her boots crunched softly against the gravel path leading to the central courtyard, where students milled about, absorbed in their own little worlds. Normally, she would have kept her head down, blending into the backdrop, but today felt... different.
The meeting with Lucas still lingered in her mind like a fragile dream she wasn't ready to wake from. She hadn't meant to talk to anyone. She hadn't planned to feel anything, not yet. But Lucas had disrupted those plans — with his easy smile, his careful words, and his eyes that seemed to understand too much.
Aurora adjusted the strap of her backpack, the weight a comforting anchor as her nerves threatened to pull her adrift. Her first class didn't start for another hour, but she found her steps veering instinctively toward the library.
Just for a moment, she told herself. Just to be somewhere quiet.
As she neared the stone steps leading up to the tall glass doors, her heart stumbled. There he was again.
Lucas sat perched on the edge of the lowest step, a battered copy of "Paper Suns by Eleanor Gray " resting on his lap. He was so focused, his brows furrowed slightly in concentration, that he didn't notice her at first.
For a fleeting second, Aurora considered turning around slipping away before he could see her. But something stopped her. Maybe it was the memory of how easy it had felt, talking to him. Maybe it was the loneliness she still carried like a second skin.
Taking a deep breath, she approached.
"Good morning," she said, her voice barely louder than the breeze.
Lucas looked up, startled. And then he smiled …that wide, unguarded smile that made something deep inside her ache.
"Hey," he said, standing quickly, as if her presence demanded more than a seated greeting. "I was hoping to run into you."
Aurora tilted her head. "Were you?"
Lucas flushed slightly, scratching the back of his neck. "Okay, maybe I was camping out here like a total weirdo."
She laughed, the sound surprising even herself. "Well, you're lucky. I was just wandering by."
"Fate," Lucas said, half-joking but with an earnestness that made her chest tighten.
"Maybe," she said softly.
He hesitated, shifting his weight. "Were you going inside?"
Aurora nodded. "Yeah. Just needed some quiet before class."
"Mind if I join you?"
Her smile was small, but genuine. "I'd like that."
They stepped into the familiar warmth of the library together, the heavy door closing behind them with a soft 'thud'. The scent of old paper and brewed coffee wrapped around them immediately, and Aurora felt some of her tension ease.
Lucas led the way to a secluded corner near the back , a small table tucked against a window overlooking the quad. It was the kind of place no one stumbled upon by accident.
Aurora tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she settled into the chair opposite Lucas. She could still feel a slight tremor in her fingers, the kind that came when something unexpected but beautiful happened.
"So," Lucas said, offering a small smile, "favorite Eleanor Gray book?"
Aurora laughed softly, the sound slipping out before she could stop it. "That's a dangerous question. I could talk for hours."
"I've got time," Lucas replied, resting his chin lightly on his hand, eyes never leaving hers.
Aurora smiled shyly, feeling a flutter in her chest. She toyed with the corner of her sleeve for a moment before answering.
"Probably Where the Wild Sorrows Bloom," she said. "It's heartbreaking, but... healing, too. It reminds me that pain doesn't have to be permanent. That you can carry it and still move forward."
Lucas nodded thoughtfully, as if committing her words to memory. "That's the one about the girl who loses everything but finds herself, right?"
"Exactly," Aurora said, warmth spreading through her chest at his understanding.
For a few precious minutes, they spoke easily—about books, about favorite characters, about moments that made them cry or laugh out loud in the middle of a silent library. With every word exchanged, Aurora felt a small knot inside her loosening, the heaviness she'd been carrying for too long beginning to lift.
But then—
A single vibration against the table.
Aurora glanced down.
Her phone lit up.
Ethan. Again.
Her heart lurched painfully against her ribs. Without thinking, she flipped the phone over, face down.
Lucas noticed the flicker of pain that crossed her face but said nothing.
Instead, he offered her a gentle out. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
Aurora gave him a grateful look. "Thanks."
She tried to pull herself back into the conversation, but her mind was already drifting. It drifted to one time six months ago when it was raining and Ethan had shown up at her window.
Aurora remembered the way he'd grinned up at her, soaked to the bone, holding a cheap bouquet of supermarket flowers.
"I'm an idiot," he'd said, laughing breathlessly. "But I'm your idiot."
At the time, it had felt like the most romantic thing in the world. She had run downstairs barefoot, thrown herself into his arms without thinking, forgiving him once again for the texts she wasn't supposed to see, the lipstick-stained hoodie he swore belonged to his cousin's girlfriend.
She remembered the way Ethan had kissed her like he was drowning, like she was air.
And she remembered the way she had believed him…every lie, every half-truth ,because loving him felt better than being alone.
But love shouldn't hurt like that.
Love shouldn't feel like bleeding quietly while smiling for the world.
It had taken her too long to realize that forgiveness without change was just enabling.
That staying wasn't loyalty,it was fear. Fear of starting over. Fear of being wrong about someone she had once trusted with her heart.
And now… now Ethan was just another ghost in her story.
Aurora blinked herself back into the present.
Lucas was watching her patiently, giving her space without pressing for answers.
"You okay?" he asked gently.
She forced a smile. "Yeah. Just... memories."
Lucas hesitated, then leaned forward a little. His voice was low, tentative. "You know... it's okay if you're not okay."
Something about the way he said it…so sincere, so careful, unraveled a little more of the wall she had built around herself.
"Thanks," she whispered, her throat tight.
They fell into a quieter conversation after that, the kind that didn't demand too much but offered comfort all the same. They talked about the best places to read on campus, funny library mishaps, professors who took themselves too seriously.
And all the while, Aurora could feel something shifting inside her.
Not love.
Not yet.
But hope.
A flicker of it. Small, but stubborn.
Across the library, hidden by a row of dusty encyclopedias, Ethan grinned.
He watched Aurora laugh..a soft, real laugh and something ugly twisted in his gut.
She had never laughed like that when she was with him. Not recently, anyway.
Pulling out his phone, he started to type.
"I'm sorry. Please answer me."
He stared at the words.
Deleted them.
Typed again.
"You're making a mistake."
Deleted.
Finally, he settled on silence, watching, waiting.