Chapter 6 Cracks in the wall

The next afternoon, they met at the same library table-quiet corner, two chairs, two coffees, and a growing silence that wasn't quite uncomfortable.

Malvin was already there when Brianna arrived, a notebook open in front of him. He was sketching something - not doodles, not aimless lines. Real shapes. Details. Lines with purpose.

She slid into her seat without a word but couldn't help glancing at the page.

"Didn't know you could draw," she said.

He didn't look up. "I don't."

She raised an eyebrow. "That looks like a real building."

"It's the science block. Third floor window, far right."

He paused. "I go there sometimes. It's quiet."

She didn't know what to say to that. He closed the notebook, like the moment had never happened, and pushed it aside.

Back to work.

They read, typed, exchanged opinions. The conversation stayed focused on the assignment - mostly. But every now and then, something else slipped in. A glance. A comment. A question neither of them had to ask out loud.

Halfway through, the power flickered.

The overhead lights dimmed, then cut out entirely. The library buzzed with confused voices, chairs scraping, books thudding shut.

Brianna blinked.

"Well," she muttered. "There goes productivity."

She looked over at Malvin, who was still as ever, a ghost of amusement on his face.

"You okay in the dark?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason." He leaned back. "Just seems like the kind of thing that makes people nervous."

"I'm not most people."

He looked at her for a long second.

"No," he said. "You're not."

It wasn't a compliment. It wasn't flirtation. It was just... truth.

But it landed differently.

The emergency lights kicked on, casting the library in a soft, moody orange. They were the only ones left in their row. Everything felt suddenly distant. Fuzzy. Intimate.

Brianna crossed her arms, unsure why her pulse was picking up.

"You're not what I expected either," she said quietly.

Malvin didn't ask what she meant.

Didn't press.

He just nodded slightly, like he understood more than he should.

They sat there in the half-dark, surrounded by silence and soft breathing and pages filled with unfinished sentences.

And for a moment, it felt like the world outside had paused. Like time - that cruel, unstoppable thing - had chosen to let them be still.

Just for now.

Brianna wasn't sure how long they sat like that.

There was something about the quiet hum of backup lights and the echo of distant voices that made it feel like they were somewhere else entirely - not a library, not on a campus, but suspended in a kind of in-between.

Malvin broke the silence first.

"You ever think about just... disappearing?" he asked softly, eyes fixed on the far wall.

The question caught her off guard.

"Like... running away?"

He shrugged. "Not running. Just... removing yourself. No drama. No explanation. Just gone."

She looked at him, searching for something in his expression - bitterness, pain, maybe a joke.

But his face was unreadable again.

"I used to," she said finally, surprising even herself.

He turned toward her now. "What stopped you?"

She hesitated. Then: "Nothing. I just... learned how to stay even when I didn't want to."

Malvin nodded slowly, like he understood more than her words. Like he'd done the same.

"I think people assume quiet means weak," he said. "But it's the opposite. You have to be strong to hold in that much noise."

She didn't say anything to that. Didn't need to.

Because in that moment, with the lights low and the world outside fading into silence, she realized something she hadn't wanted to admit:

She didn't feel alone when she was with him.

Not safe, exactly. But seen.

And somehow, that was worse. Because the moment someone really saw you, they had the power to hurt you.

She stood up, suddenly needing distance.

"I should go," she said, slipping her laptop into her bag.

Malvin didn't ask why. Didn't try to stop her.

But just before she turned to leave, he said, "Brianna."

She paused.

"You don't have to stay strong all the time."

She swallowed hard.

Then walked away-quickly, quietly, and with the weight of unspoken things heavy on her shoulders.