REKINDLED || Completed

39

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Thirty Nine
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Angelic.

That was the only word that came to mind as Oren watched her that night.

Maybe it was a little cringe-worthy, but it was the truth.

The glow of the streetlights cast soft shadows on her skin, making her eyes gleam. It accentuated every delicate feature—the natural dusting of freckles across her cheeks, the way her thin lips parted slightly as she gazed back at him. He fought the instinct to reach out and tuck the stray strands of dark hair away from her face.

And then he realized he had been staring for too long.

Oren shook his head, feeling the heat creep up his neck.

Maybe it was a whim. Maybe it was something else entirely. But before he could think, he reached for her hand as they started walking.

For the first few moments, her fingers remained motionless in his grasp. Then, slowly, they curled over his.

His mind blurred into a wonderful haze.

He had never looked at anyone like this before with an admiration so effortless, so uncontrollable.

And yet, it felt normal.

It had happened more times than he cared to count. Even when he cringed at how utterly sappy it made him, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

Asher was God’s creation.

He had eyes for beauty.

Surely, she was meant to be admired.

"How do you feel about your presentation?" He finally forced himself back to reality.

She shrugged. "I feel like it should happen right now so I can be done with school already."

He chuckled. "That bad, huh? Come on, four years and no good memories?"

She arched a brow. "I swear, I don’t have one."

His smile faltered slightly.

"You’ve built relationships to be grateful for, haven’t you?" he pressed gently. "Think about the good things that happened because you studied there, just one."

She fell quiet, as if considering his words, before giving another small shrug.

Oren rolled his eyes.

"What are you really doing in Canada, if I may ask?" she asked suddenly.

The question nearly stunned him.

He exhaled, his voice dropping slightly. "I felt like a major part of my life would happen here…"

She blinked, her gaze flickering across his face.

"Like a chapter I ripped out years ago," he continued, "would be rewritten by God Himself here."

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then stopped.

"Sure," she murmured instead.

A silence settled between them, comfortable yet weighted.

Neither of them rushed to fill it.

Minutes passed before Asher’s quiet voice broke the stillness.

"We’re here."

Oren lifted his gaze, taking in the quiet street. His eyes landed on the lone building across the road.

"Thank you…" she said softly, drawing his attention back to her.

“…For walking me."

"Of course." He grinned.

Her gaze flicked downward to their hands.

He released her instantly, warmth rushing to his face.

"Sorry."

She didn’t say anything.

She just looked at him.

So intently that it almost scared him.

"I won’t say good luck on your presentation," he admitted, his voice quieter now, "but… I am wishing you success."

A ghost of a smile curved her lips.

"Thank you."

"So… lat—"

He barely got the words out before she hugged him.

For a moment, time slowed.

The stars above could have stayed frozen in place. The moon’s glow bathed them in something soft, something that felt dangerously close to a dream.

She smelled of apples.

Light, faint yet entirely distinct.

His hands rose to deepen the hug—

But then she pulled away.

Sharply.

Like his touch burned.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, shaking her head before darting across the street.

And then she was gone.

Leaving him in the quiet, confused.

---

Oren had to stop by Everest’s place to grab his guitar before heading home.

It was late, but that didn’t bother him. He was used to it.

The house was dimly lit when he stepped inside. The only sound came from the low buzz of the fridge and the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards beneath his feet.

Then he saw Everest, sitting on the couch, staring at his phone—forehead pinched in deep concentration.

"Everest," Oren called.

His friend barely reacted, lifting his gaze for only a second.

"Oh," Everest muttered. "Hey."

As Oren approached, Everest exhaled and tucked his phone away.

"What's wrong?" Oren asked, studying his face.

"Nothing," Everest said too quickly. Then under his breath—"Damn it."

He cleared his throat. "Nothing you should be worried about. Did you get Asher home safe?"

Oren held his gaze for a beat before shrugging. "Yeah. She’s safe. Why are you still up?"

Everest snorted. "I’ve stayed up nights all my life. This is normal."

"You stayed up when you were back there, too," Oren pointed out. "Or when you were worried about something."

Everest sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Ren… I just can’t right now. Can we—can we talk about this later?"

Oren studied him for a moment before offering a small, knowing smile.

He clapped a hand over Everest’s tensed shoulder. "Whatever it is… you’ll be fine."

Everest let out a short breath, something softer in his eyes now.

"Thanks, blood."

***