REKINDLED || Completed

8

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Eight
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That moment stretched longer than it should have.

Asher wasn’t sure how or when she stopped breathing properly, but she was painfully aware of the way her fingers curled around the handle of her coffee cup, stiff and unmoving. She told herself it was just a song—just a guy with a guitar, a voice, and a way of looking at her that made something unsteady inside her crack open.

Yet she didn’t move.

Even as the last note faded and silence hovered in the air like a thick fog. Even as a slow wave of murmured approval rippled through the tiny café, punctuated by the sound of Harry sighing—deep and weighted, like the breath of someone who had just found something they’d lost a long time ago.

It was Oren who broke the spell.

He looked down, lips still slightly parted from the final lyric, before rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. He was grinning again—she could see it in the way his cheek dimpled, in the lopsided curve of his lips. But there was something beneath it, something flickering and unreadable, like he knew exactly what had happened in that moment.

Like he knew exactly what she had felt.

“Not bad, huh?” He finally said, casting a glance at Harry.

“Bloody brilliant, son,” Harry murmured, shaking his head as he picked up what was left of his shredded napkin. “Truly.”

Oren gave a small, almost sheepish nod of thanks before turning to Asher again. She wasn’t ready.

She hadn’t figured out how to arrange her face, how to pretend like she hadn’t just been ripped open by a song, by a look, by something she didn’t understand and didn’t want to acknowledge.

So she did what she always did.

She shut it down.

She lifted the cup to her lips, only to grimace when the coffee had turned bitter and lukewarm. Setting it down with a clink, she reached for her bag, forcing her voice to sound detached. “Well. That was…” she searched for the word, anything that wouldn’t betray her, “…unexpected.”

Oren arched a brow, amused. “Unexpected good, or unexpected bad?”

She stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Unexpected done,” she countered, brushing past him toward the exit.

A terrible attempt at deflection, but she needed air. Space. Distance from that song, from him.

But as she reached the door, his voice followed her.

“Asher.”

She hesitated.

Not enough to turn back, but enough for him to know she’d heard.

“…I’ll see you around?” He asked, and she could hear the smirk in his tone, as if he already knew the answer.

She didn’t give him one.

Instead, she pulled the door open, stepping out into the cold night air, hoping it would be enough to wash away the way his voice had just wrapped itself around her name.

***

Author: So I felt a lot writing this chapter. Also, finally... I got those two in a room together, phew... Now the story really begins.

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Love,
Kairos.