The air inside the asylum was heavy, weighed down by years of memories that clung to the walls like fog. The scent of antiseptic masked something deeper—an undercurrent of pain, loss, and loneliness. The kind that lingered even in the quiet moments when all the patients were tucked away in their rooms.
Evelyn never imagined she'd end up here. She had always been the strong one, the one others leaned on. But everyone has a breaking point. The cracks in her soul had spread too wide, and now she was here, in a place where time seemed to stand still. She'd been here for a few days now, but the surreal atmosphere made it feel like an eternity.
Her hands gripped the edges of the scratchy blanket draped over her knees, as she sat in the corner of the common room. The asylum was quiet, eerily so, except for the occasional distant murmur or the sharp sound of metal clinking from another part of the building. She often found herself isolated, surrounded by people but utterly alone.
Until him.
It was just a glance at first. A moment when her gaze wandered across the room, and she saw him—Colby. He sat with his back hunched over, elbows on his knees, and fingers knotted together. There was something magnetic about him, a kind of quiet intensity in the way he observed the room without ever meeting anyone's eyes. His dark hair fell in messy strands over his forehead, and his jaw was set in a way that suggested he carried the weight of his own battles.
Evelyn couldn't stop herself from staring.
Their eyes met.
It was brief, just a fraction of a second, but something passed between them—a flicker of understanding. She quickly looked away, her heart stammering in her chest. What was that? she thought. A connection? Or just the loneliness of this place playing tricks on her?
Colby stood up and left the room without a word, his figure disappearing down one of the shadowy hallways. Evelyn's gaze lingered on the door, her thoughts still swirling around that fleeting moment.
The next few days passed in a blur, but she saw him often now. Colby always seemed to be somewhere just at the edge of her vision, sitting quietly, keeping to himself. She noticed the little things—how he clenched his jaw when he was frustrated, how his eyes darkened when the nurses gave him his medication. She could see his struggle, could almost feel it as if it mirrored her own.
It was on a dreary afternoon, the kind where the sky outside matched the cold, sterile walls of the asylum, when they spoke for the first time.
Evelyn was in the garden, one of the few places that offered any semblance of freedom. The air was crisp, and the muted sunlight cast a soft glow on the wilting flowers. She was pacing slowly along the pathway when she heard footsteps behind her.
"I thought I'd find you out here."
The voice was low, deep, and sent a shiver down her spine. She turned, and there he was—Colby, standing a few feet away, his hands tucked into the pockets of his grey asylum-issued hoodie. His dark eyes held her gaze, unwavering, as if he'd been waiting for this moment just as much as she had.
Evelyn swallowed, her voice coming out softer than she intended. "You were looking for me?"
He gave a small shrug, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's hard not to notice you."
Her heart skipped a beat. There was something about the way he said it, the quiet intensity in his voice that made her feel like he saw through all the layers she kept hidden.
She crossed her arms, more to steady herself than out of any sense of defense. "I've noticed you too."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Colby's lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. He took a step closer, the space between them shrinking. "I figured," he said softly, his gaze flickering over her face, lingering on her eyes. "You've got this look. Like... like you get it."
"Get what?" she asked, though she felt like she already knew the answer.
"Everything," he replied simply. "This place, the way it makes you feel... trapped, even when you're outside."
Evelyn nodded, her throat tightening. She had never felt more understood than in that moment. She lowered her gaze to the ground, feeling the weight of his words settle over her. "It's like we don't belong anywhere. Not here, not out there..."
Colby stepped even closer, his voice softening, growing more intimate. "Maybe we belong with each other."
Her breath caught. The world seemed to narrow until it was just the two of them, standing in the fading light, surrounded by the quiet hum of the asylum's distant noises. She looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. There was something about him, something raw and real, and she could feel herself drawn to it.
Without thinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his hand. The contact was electric, sending a jolt through her entire body. Colby looked down at their hands, then back up at her, and she saw the same need reflected in his eyes—the need for connection, for someone to understand, to feel.
They stood like that for a long moment, just the faintest touch between them, but it was enough. In that brief contact, Evelyn felt something stir deep inside her, something that had been dormant for far too long.
"You're not alone," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Neither of them said anything after that, but they didn't need to. The silence between them spoke volumes, and when Colby finally turned to leave, Evelyn felt a strange warmth spread through her chest—a warmth she hadn't felt in years.
As he disappeared into the shadows of the asylum once more, she knew this was just the beginning. Something had changed between them, something that would only grow stronger in the days to come.
