Eyes That Cannot Lie | Winrina

A Stupid Letter

The next day arrived with a pale morning sun peeking through the clouds, casting a soft glow over the campus. The crisp scent of fall filled the air as Karina made her way toward the usual spot where Winter liked to sit between classes—a quiet bench near the oak tree. She had the letter tucked securely in her jacket pocket, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of the folded paper as she walked.

Her stomach churned with uncertainty. Would Winter even show up? And if she did, how would she react to the letter?

Karina had barely slept, her mind running in circles, replaying every word she had written. But there was no going back now. Today, she would either begin the process of mending things, or Winter would shut her out for good.

Reaching the oak tree, Karina's heart skipped a beat when she spotted Winter sitting there, earbuds in, her gaze distant as she absentmindedly flipped through a notebook. Karina paused for a moment, gathering herself. She couldn't mess this up. She took a deep breath and approached quietly, keeping a few steps of distance so she wouldn't startle her.

Winter didn't look up, lost in her own world. Karina hesitated, then gently placed the folded letter on the bench beside Winter. She lingered for a second, but when Winter didn't react, she turned to leave. Before she could take a step, Winter's voice broke the silence.

"Karina."

The sound of her name from Winter's mouth made Karina freeze. Slowly, she turned around. Winter had pulled one of her earbuds out, her sharp eyes fixed on the letter lying next to her.

"What is this?" Winter asked, her tone flat, unreadable.

Karina swallowed, feeling her nerves spike. "It's... it's just something I needed to say. About everything that happened."

Winter glanced down at the letter again, her expression cold, but she didn't push it away. Karina's pulse quickened.

"I didn't know if you'd want to talk to me directly," Karina added, trying to keep her voice steady. "So I thought maybe it'd be easier to—"

"You think a stupid letter's going to fix this?" Winter interrupted, her voice suddenly harsh. Her eyes flashed with the same anger from the day before, the bitterness still lingering beneath the surface. "You think some words on paper are going to make me forget what you did?"

Karina flinched at the words but stood her ground. "No, I don't expect you to forget, or forgive me right away," she said softly. "But I just... I wanted to explain. I've been thinking about it all night, and I realize now how badly I messed up. I didn't handle things right. I know that."

Winter's jaw tightened, but she didn't say anything, her gaze flicking from Karina to the letter again. For a moment, Karina thought she might tear it up and walk away, but instead, Winter sighed and shoved the notebook into her bag.

"Fine," Winter said, standing up abruptly. "I'll read it later. But don't expect anything from me, Karina. I'm only doing this because we have to get this stupid project done."

Karina nodded, feeling a flicker of hope, though Winter's words still cut deep. "That's all I'm asking. Just... read it, okay? And after that, if you still don't want to talk, I'll leave you alone."

Winter didn't respond. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and started walking away, her expression as closed off as ever. But she didn't throw the letter away, and that was something. Karina watched her go, resisting the urge to call after her again.

She could only hope that the letter would reach Winter in a way her words hadn't.

——

Later that afternoon, Winter sat in her room, the letter Karina had left burning a hole in her pocket. She had shoved it there without thinking, but now that she was alone, it was impossible to ignore. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at it, her emotions tangled and raw.