thirtytwo
Aaliyah's POV
I shouldn't be here.
I know that.
I'm standing around the corner from my building, tucked behind the big stone column near the front steps, hood up, heart pounding so loud I swear it echoes.
Zaria insisted on walking me.
Caleb insisted on "surveillance."
But I made them stay back.
Because I need to see him.
Not talk.
Not forgive.
Just... see him.
I peek around the column.
And there he is.
Leo.
Sitting on the stone steps in front of the humanities building, hood up, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of his mouth.
Waiting.
For me.
My stomach drops.
My breath catches so hard it hurts.
Because he looks-
Destroyed.
His hair is a mess.
His hoodie is wrinkled.
He's wearing the same sweatpants from yesterday.
His eyes look tired-like he didn't sleep, like he couldn't.
And he keeps checking the walkway every thirty seconds.
Every time a girl passes, his head lifts-
hope flickers-
then fades when he realizes it's not me.
My throat burns.
Zaria was right.
He didn't come to push.
Didn't come to demand.
He came to wait.
My chest tightens painfully as I watch him stand abruptly, pacing a few steps, running a hand through his hair like he's trying not to fall apart.
Then he sits again.
Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
He looks like he's trying not to break.
And seeing him like this-
Hurts more than the misunderstanding did.
I grip the column to steady myself.
Part of me wants to run straight to him.
Throw my arms around him.
Tell him I believe him.
But the other part-the scared part that remembers the shock, the pain, the humiliation-keeps me frozen.
I take a breath.
Just one step closer.
He shifts-
And suddenly-
He looks up.
Directly at me.
My whole body freezes.
His eyes widen just slightly.
Not surprised.
Not relieved.
Just soft.
Soft in a way that makes my knees go weak.
His lips part like he's afraid to breathe too loud and scare me away.
He doesn't move.
Not an inch.
He doesn't get up.
Doesn't call my name.
Doesn't chase me.
He just looks at me-
like I'm something he's scared to reach for
and terrified to lose again.
My heart cracks.
He looks exhausted.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Just... wrecked.
And holy god-
the way he looks at me...
like he misses me
like he's hurting
like he would do anything for one chance
one conversation
one breath
one touch-
I feel my eyes sting.
He sees the tears forming.
His mouth opens, just barely-
"Aaliyah..."
My breath catches.
Not now.
Not yet.
I can't.
I can't talk to him yet.
I shake my head softly.
His shoulders fall.
Not in defeat-
but in understanding.
He nods.
Slow.
Respectful.
Painful.
Like he's telling me:
I turn away, wiping my eyes quickly before anyone sees.
My chest aches.
My throat aches.
Everything aches.
Behind me, I hear him inhale sharply-
a tiny, broken sound he tries to swallow.
And my heart fractures in a new place I didn't know existed.
I don't look back.
Because if I do, I'll run to him.
I'm not ready.
But god...
I'm getting there.