Unwritten Rules

Sight Of Them

Mike's POV

As the day wore on, the decision was made to stay overnight on the summit. Joshua and Kierra set about fixing up the tent, their laughter mingling with the evening breeze. I found myself on the periphery, observing their easy camaraderie, a feeling of isolation creeping over me. I wanted to be a part of their moment, but instead, I felt like a spectator.

Then, driven by an impulse to connect, I stepped in to help with the tent. To my surprise, Kierra welcomed my assistance. The brief moment of teamwork felt like a small victory, a chance to bridge the gap that had been widening between us.

Later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the landscape, I saw Kierra sitting alone on the edge of a cliff, her gaze lost in the expanse of the evening sky. The scene was tranquil, yet there was a heaviness in the air that seemed to draw me to her.

I approached slowly, careful not to intrude. "You good, Kierra?" My voice was soft, meant to offer comfort rather than demand a response.

She turned to me, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Yeah, just... thinking," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. There was a pause, and then she continued, "I've been a bit off today, haven't I? I'm sorry if I've seemed distant."

Understanding dawned in my eyes, and I felt my own heart soften. "It's okay, Kierra. I noticed. Is there something wrong?"

She hesitated, her gaze drifting back to the horizon. "I... I think I've been confused, about... things." Her admission hung in the air, fragile and honest. I remained silent, my presence a silent encouragement for her to continue.

"Being here, with you," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "it made me realize... I value our friendship a lot. And I value our professional relationship even more. But... maybe there's more to it, and I don't know how to navigate that. I'm confused with my own feelings."

Her words struck a deep chord within me. The vulnerability in her voice mirrored my own internal struggle. "Kierra, I appreciate your honesty. And... I've been feeling the same way," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

A genuine smile began to spread across her face, a smile that seemed to lift a weight from her shoulders. It was a relief to see her expression lighten, even as the complexity of our emotions remained. She began to stand, but I gently reached out and took her hand, my touch tender and reassuring.

"Let's get to know each other in the meantime," I suggested, hoping to offer a path forward, one that would allow us to explore the depths of our feelings and find a way to navigate the uncertainty together.

As we sat there, hand in hand, the night enveloping us in its quiet embrace, I felt a flicker of hope. It wasn't a resolution, but it was a beginning—a chance to understand each other more deeply and to face the complexities of our feelings together.

The evening was serene, the sky a tapestry of stars, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided a comforting backdrop. Getting to know Kierra had been unexpectedly comforting, her presence a soothing balm to my restless thoughts. Our conversations flowed easily, offering a rare respite from the confusion that had been plaguing me.

After we'd settled into our sleeping bags, exhaustion from the hike had quickly taken over, and soon, the soft sounds of our breathing filled the night. But just as I began to drift off, the sudden buzz of my phone cut through the quiet. The light from the screen illuminated my face as I checked the notification—Maricar was calling.

I slipped out of my sleeping bag and crept outside, careful not to disturb the others. The cool night air was refreshing, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside me. I walked a short distance away from the tent before answering the call.