The school rooftop had become an unspoken safe place for Ara and Chenle. It was quiet, away from the chaos of the hallways, the noise of their friends, and most importantly, the weight of everything they weren't ready to say out loud.
Tonight was one of those nights.
Ara sat cross-legged on the ground, flipping absentmindedly through her notebook. Chenle sat beside her, leaning back against the railing, gazing at the city lights.
"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?" Chenle's voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the meaning behind his words.
Ara exhaled, closing her notebook. "I can't stop."
She didn't need to explain. He already knew.
Ever since Ara had realized Renjun was her disowned older brother, the truth had been sitting heavily on her chest. The way her parents had erased him from their lives, the fact that Renjun had no idea she was his sister... she didn't even know if he knew... haunted her.
And she had no clue how to fix it.
Chenle nudged her knee with his own. "You don't have to figure it out all at once, you know."
Ara bit her lip. "What if he hates me for not telling him sooner?"
Chenle sighed. "You're not responsible for what your parents did. And if Renjun really is your brother... I don't think he'll hate you."
Ara turned to look at him. "How can you be so sure?"
Chenle offered a small smile. "Because if I found out I had a sister who actually cared about me? I'd be pretty grateful."
His words made something in her chest tighten.
"Besides," he added, voice gentler now, "you're not alone in this."
Ara swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Chenle didn't say anything else, but he didn't need to. The warmth in his gaze, the quiet reassurance in his presence, it was enough.
Later that night, it was Ara's turn to notice something was off.
They were walking back toward the school gates when she saw the way Chenle's fingers twitched at his side, how he kept fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.
It wasn't the usual Chenle she knew, the one who was always quick to joke, always effortlessly confident. This was different.
"You okay?" she asked, tilting her head.
Chenle hesitated before sighing. "I've just been... overthinking. A lot."
Ara raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you overthink?"
Chenle let out a short laugh, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Since always."
Ara remained quiet, giving him space to speak at his own pace.
Chenle took a deep breath. "I'm just... getting anxious a lot lately."
Ara's steps slowed. "Chenle..."
"I just can't stop overthinking things," he admitted, his voice steady but soft. "I thought if I ignored it, if I acted normal, it wouldn't matter. But lately... it's been harder to pretend."
Ara frowned. "You don't have to pretend around me."
Chenle glanced at her, something unreadable in his eyes. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Ara nudged him lightly. "You've been here for me, so let me do the same for you."
Chenle stared at her for a moment before exhaling, a small, genuine smile forming on his lips.
"You're a good person, Ara."
Ara rolled her eyes playfully, but her heart skipped a beat. "Don't say stuff like that out of nowhere."
"What? I'm being serious."
"Yeah, and it's weird."
Chenle laughed, and it was real.
They walked in silence for a while, the night air calm around them. Somewhere behind the city lights, the faint sounds of students leaving school reached them, but it felt distant, almost like it belonged to another world.
Ara glanced at him again, noticing the small ways he fidgeted, the slight tension in his shoulders, the way he occasionally bit his lip.
"You know," she said softly, "you don't have to carry everything alone."
Chenle shook his head, but there was a small smile on his face. "Yeah, well... I guess I'm learning that now."
Ara's hand brushed against his as they walked, almost by accident. Neither pulled away. It felt natural, comforting, grounding.
"You make it easier," Chenle said quietly, more to himself than to her.
Ara looked up at him. "I try."
"And you do," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
They continued walking side by side, the city stretching around them. There were still so many things unsaid... about Renjun, about their fears, about the future... but for once, that weight felt lighter.
Something between them had shifted, quietly but unmistakably. It was heavier than friendship, warmer than simple companionship.
Neither of them said it out loud, but they both knew.
This was something real.
And for the first time in a long time, that was enough.
