God's way

Part 4

The first time we went for a walk together, I remember how strange it felt. I kept glancing over at him, unsure of what to say or do. Tonight, things felt different, but not entirely. There was still a lingering awkwardness between us, like we were both waiting for the other to make a move, to set the tone. I couldn't quite tell if he was comfortable or just putting up a front, but I felt the same way—wanting to relax but still holding back, like we were testing the waters.

The streets were mostly empty, the only sounds coming from distant cars and the soft rustle of leaves in the cold night breeze. The streetlights cast long, eerie shadows, illuminating patches of the sidewalk but leaving everything else shrouded in darkness. I shoved my hands deeper into my coat pockets, stealing a quick glance at Sayjan. He was walking with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, his shoulders hunched slightly, like he was trying to shrink into himself.

"So..." I said, breaking the silence, "do you usually walk around here at night?"

He glanced over at me, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

"Not really," he admitted. "It's just... I don't know. I thought it might be nice tonight."

"Yeah, it is nice," I said, looking up at the sky. It was cloudy, the stars hidden behind a thick blanket of fog. "Quiet, at least."

He nodded, but didn't say anything, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. The silence stretched on, not entirely uncomfortable but not exactly easy either. I wanted to say something, to fill the gap, but I wasn't sure what.

"How's school going?" he finally asked, his voice a little hesitant.

"It's fine," I replied. "You know, the usual stress about exams and essays. Nothing too exciting."

He chuckled softly. "I feel that. My mom's been on my case about my grades lately. It's like she thinks I'm failing everything."

"Are you?" I teased, nudging him lightly with my shoulder. The touch was brief, but it felt like a tiny bridge between us, one that made me feel a bit more grounded.

"Maybe," he smirked, glancing at me, his expression hard to read. "Just a little behind."

We both fell silent again, but this time it didn't feel as awkward. We walked down the familiar street, passing the dimly lit shops and cafes, their windows dark and empty. I glanced over at him again, trying to gauge his mood. His face was set in a neutral expression, but there was something about the way he carried himself—like he was deep in thought.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me again after the last time." I said.

He hesitated before answering, his eyes darting away from mine. 

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me," he admitted. His voice was softer, a little vulnerable.

We reached the small park at the end of the street, and without speaking, we both headed towards the swings. I sat down first, wrapping my fingers around the cold chains. He followed suit, but instead of swinging, he just pushed off lightly with his feet, staring down at the ground.

"You come here a lot?" I asked, trying to break the tension.

"Sometimes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I need to clear my head."

I nodded, watching him. He looked different here, under the dim glow of the streetlight—smaller, almost. Like the weight he usually carried had finally started to show.

"I get it," I said quietly. "Sometimes I come here too, when I need to think."

He looked up at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "Yeah? What do you think about?"