© 2025 Kaela Seraphine. All Rights Reserved
Some people fall in love with noise. You fell in love with silence. More specifically—her silence.
You first noticed Lara Raj in the campus library—curled into a beanbag, oversized cardigan swallowing her frame, a leather journal open on her lap. Her pen moved slowly, like each word was a prayer she was afraid to say out loud.
She didn’t look up when you walked by. She didn’t need to.
Her stillness was magnetic.
You passed her every Tuesday at 3PM. Like clockwork. You started changing your route just to “accidentally” bump into her—until one day, she beat you to it.
“You always walk too loud,” she said, eyes still on her notebook.
You froze.
She looked up then, and her gaze hit different—like moonlight in a locked room.
“I was hoping you’d say hi,” she added quietly. “Eventually.”
You blinked. “I… I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Her lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. “Then I guess I’ll go first.”
She extended a hand, soft and ink-stained. “Lara.”
You took it. “I’m—uh—me.”
“Me, huh?” she said, amused. “Mysterious. I like it.”