It had been a week since that day in the library, and though Ocean had tried to forget about it, tried to push Skyler's words out of his mind, they lingered like an echo. Every time he caught sight of Skyler in the halls, his heart gave a small, involuntary lurch, and it bothered him. He wasn't supposed to care. He wasn't supposed to want anything from Skyler—or anyone else for that matter.
But the thing about Skyler was, he didn't give up.
He didn't push either. He didn't crowd Ocean or demand more than Ocean was willing to give. Instead, he was just... there. Always nearby, always offering a smile or a simple "hey" when they crossed paths. He never lingered too long, never asked for anything, and it was maddening in the strangest way.
Because a part of Ocean—no matter how much he denied it—was starting to look for him.
It was a rainy Thursday afternoon when Ocean found himself once again seated in the back of the library, his usual hiding place when he needed space to breathe. The soft patter of rain against the windows should have been soothing, but today, it only added to the weight pressing down on him. His notebook sat unopened in his lap, his pen still tucked behind his ear. Words didn't come easily to him on days like this—days when his mind felt clouded with thoughts he couldn't shake.
He didn't hear Skyler approach, but he felt him.
That warmth, that unspoken presence, as if the air itself shifted whenever Skyler was near. Ocean's eyes flicked up, and there he was, standing in front of him like he had been there all along. His hands were shoved into his jacket pockets, hair slightly damp from the rain outside. He looked relaxed, casual, yet there was something in his gaze—a quiet determination.
"Mind if I sit?" Skyler asked, already pulling out the chair across from Ocean.
Ocean hesitated, but only for a moment, before giving a curt nod. "You're going to anyway," he muttered under his breath, though there was no real bite to his words.
Skyler grinned, the easy kind of smile that seemed to disarm people without even trying. "You're starting to get used to me, aren't you?"
Ocean didn't respond, but his silence spoke louder than words. He wasn't sure what this was between them—this strange, undefined thing that had started with a simple touch and grown into something more, something fragile and unspoken.
Skyler leaned back in his chair, glancing out the rain-streaked window for a moment before turning his attention back to Ocean. "I've been thinking," he said, his voice soft but deliberate, "about what you said last week. About not wanting anything from anyone."
Ocean tensed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I didn't say that for you to think about it."
"I know," Skyler replied easily. "But I did anyway. And I think... it's okay if you don't want anything. But that doesn't mean you can't have something."
Ocean frowned, not understanding. "What does that even mean?"
Skyler's gaze softened, and for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something more genuine, something deeper. "It means that sometimes, people give us things without us asking. Support. Friendship. Maybe more. You don't have to ask for it, and you don't have to give anything back. But you can still let it happen."
The words struck Ocean like a tidal wave, crashing into the barriers he had spent years building. He wanted to dismiss them, brush them off like every other well-meaning attempt people had made to get close to him. But with Skyler, it was different. Skyler wasn't trying to fix him, wasn't trying to change him. He was simply offering something—something light, something that didn't feel like a promise.
Ocean looked away, staring down at his hands. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I think I do," Skyler said, his voice gentle but firm. "You've been through something. Something that made you feel like you can't trust anyone, like promises are just lies waiting to be broken."
Ocean's heart clenched at the truth in Skyler's words, but he stayed silent, unwilling to let Skyler in any further. He didn't need pity. He didn't need understanding. What he needed was distance, to keep people far enough away that they couldn't hurt him again.
But Skyler didn't give him distance. Instead, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. "I'm not asking you to trust me, Ocean. I'm just asking you to let me be here."
Ocean swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wasn't sure why Skyler was doing this—why he cared so much, why he kept coming back when Ocean had given him every reason to stay away. But something about the way Skyler spoke, the way he didn't push too hard, made it difficult to pull away.
"I don't need anyone," Ocean said finally, his voice strained.
"I know," Skyler whispered, his eyes holding Ocean's with a steady, quiet intensity. "But maybe someone needs you."
The words settled between them like the calm after a storm, heavy but filled with an odd sense of peace. Ocean didn't know how to respond to that, didn't know how to process the strange, conflicting emotions swirling inside him. All he knew was that for the first time in a long time, someone was offering him something without expecting anything in return.
It was terrifying.
And maybe, just maybe, that's why it felt like the most real thing in his life.
Ocean stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor, but he didn't leave. Instead, he stood there, staring down at Skyler, his fists clenched at his sides. "I don't do promises, Skyler. So don't make me any."
Skyler's gaze didn't waver, his expression calm and understanding. "I'm not making any promises. Just choices."
For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension between them palpable. Then, slowly, Ocean released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. He didn't trust Skyler—he didn't trust anyone. But maybe, for once, that didn't matter.
Without another word, Ocean turned and walked away, leaving Skyler sitting there, watching him go. But as he stepped out of the library and into the rain-soaked world beyond, something was different. The weight on his chest wasn't gone, but it was lighter. And for the first time in a long time, he wondered what it would be like to let someone stay.
TBC. 🩵
