Mara’s POV
There’s a kind of bravery no one talks about.
It’s not loud. Not dramatic. It doesn’t come with applause or a big turning point.
It’s the kind that happens when you let someone see the parts of you that still tremble.
Eli and I sat on the edge of the old bridge just a few blocks from the café. It was our first time outside that space, and something about the open air made it feel like a different chapter was beginning—even if we hadn’t said anything about it.
He was quiet, staring down at the river as the city lights reflected back the parts of us we hadn’t shared yet.
“You smile with your mouth,” I said. “But not with your eyes.”
He glanced at me, caught off guard.
“I do smile,” he replied.
“I know. But only when you’re protecting something.”
I thought he might deflect, or make a joke like he sometimes did when things got too close. But tonight was different. He just looked back at the water.
“My brother was the only one who ever made me laugh without thinking about it,” he said. “He’s still around… technically. But addiction turns people into ghosts while they’re still breathing.”
That was the first time I saw his real pain. Not the quiet, poetic kind. The raw kind. The kind that doesn’t clean up well in conversation.
He didn’t say more. He didn’t have to. I reached out and rested my hand on his.
“You?” he asked after a long pause.
I looked down at the barely-there scar on my wrist. Most people didn’t notice it.
“Two years ago,” I said. “I was… done. Everything was heavy. I didn’t want to die, exactly. I just didn’t want to keep living the way I was.”
His grip on my hand tightened—soft, not pitying. Just present.
“What stopped you?” he asked.
“A voicemail. From a friend who never knew they were saving me.”
We sat in silence again. But this time, it wasn’t filled with fear. It was filled with knowing.
“That night in the café,” I whispered, “when you gave me that earbud... you didn’t just save a moment. You pulled me back from a ledge I thought I’d already fallen off.”
His eyes met mine. And this time, he smiled with all of him.
“Then I guess that makes us even.”
And for the first time since this strange, quiet connection began...6Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2qXucZV4Bl
we stopped looking away.
We didn’t kiss.6Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd8ArQ6VsnU
We didn’t promise anything.6Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSPXr9S1HsJ
We just existed, fully, without masks.
Two scarred hearts, finally letting themselves be seen.
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