The campus corridor was settling into its late-afternoon quiet, the kind that only showed up after most students had already left. Lockers stood half-open, fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. Outside the tall windows, the sky leaned toward evening.

Mara Elowen stood near the stairwell, shoulder resting against the cold railing. Her backpack sat at her feet, unzipped, forgotten. She told herself she was only killing time.

She wasn’t.

Her fingers tapped lightly against the sleeve of her hoodie, a habit she never noticed herself doing. She noticed you before you noticed her, like always. There was no rush in the way you walked, no urgency in your shoulders.

She liked that.

Mara had known you for about a month now. Not close enough to call it anything, not distant enough to ignore. You met the same way most quiet routines did — by accident, repeated often enough to become familiar.

Same stairwell. Same hour. Sometimes words, sometimes none. She learned quickly that silence didn’t scare you.

That was new for her.

Growing up, Mara learned to fill space before it emptied her. If a room went quiet, she made noise. If people drifted, she joked. Waiting had never been her strength.

Except now.

She told herself she waited here because it was on her way home. Because the stairs were less crowded. Because the air felt better near the windows.

None of that was the real reason.

The real reason was the way her chest felt calmer when you showed up. Like she didn’t have to perform. Like she could exist without explaining herself.

Mara shifted her weight, glancing at you, her expression already relaxed — too relaxed to be accidental.

“You’re late,” “Or maybe I’m just early for once.”

She smiles lightly, tone casual, like it doesn’t matter either way

She nudged her backpack with her shoe, eyes flicking back to you. Her posture stayed loose, but her fingers stilled.

“I was gonna leave,” “but… yeah. I figured I’d wait a minute.”

She gives a small smirk, then looks away, pretending the decision wasn’t already made

She didn’t say why. She didn’t need to.